Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“If ya had to kiss someone in this room, who would it be?” Riseki asks, with a grin far too devious for the youngest member of their volleyball team.

“Yer only asking ‘cause ya know I won’t choose either of ya kouhais!” Ginjima whines and slides down in his chair. Atsumu can barely see him anymore with all the half-finished cups scattered across the table blocking the view.

“Just answer the question and be happy ya didn’t choose a dare,” Fujinami, the other kouhai in question, says with a mischievous smirk of his own. Atsumu makes a mental note to not let his guard down too much around the first-years. They seem to be getting far too comfortable around their senpais – maybe it was a mistake to invite the two of them to his and Osamu’s birthday party.

“C’mon, on with the answer,” Akagi goads and drags Ginjima back up. Ginjima buries his red face in his hands as the first-years and Akagi—already guessing he'd pick another second-year—egg him on. Atsumu would join the others in teasing his classmate, if he didn’t sympathize with his current predicament so much.

Ginjima slams his palms against the table and straightens up. “Ya know what, anyone in this room would be lucky to get a kiss from me,” he says, suddenly invigorated. “So, I guess the honor would go to Suna.”

Ginjima tries to act nonchalant, but he’s betrayed by his face flushing an even deeper red. Akagi gives him a reassuring pat on the back while the first-years whoop and Aramaki gives a wolf whistle. The recipient of Ginjima’s hypothetical kiss looks as impassive as ever, but Atsumu has spent enough time with Suna to guess that if the lighting in the room was any brighter, he’d see the tips of his ears turned slightly pink. Atsumu glances to his side to scope out his twin’s reaction, but he too seems indifferent enough about Ginjima’s answer.

“Okay, enough. Enough!” Ginjima groans and hurries to spin the bottle in the middle of the table again. After a few rounds of spinning, the neck of the bottle stops to point at Atsumu.

“Alrighty, Atsumu, truth or dare?” Ginjima looks almost manic as he asks the question, eager to make sure he’s not alone in his suffering.

Atsumu likes to make a big show of not being a coward, which is why he usually goes for a dare. Earlier tonight, Atsumu already had to mix some of the chili dip for their chips with the cup of strawberry soda he had only drank half of, and down the concoction in one gulp. Atsumu has yet to taste a food or a drink he couldn’t stomach, so the chili-strawberry soda had posed no issues for him. Osamu, however, had winced. Both the twins love food, but where Atsumu will eat anything, Osamu wants to eat and cook only the best food possible. He had insisted on making the dips himself instead of using a store-bought dip mix, and seeing the product of his labor be disgraced in such a horrific way must have killed his soul a little.

Atsumu wouldn’t mind another dare like that, but unfortunately the nature of the game has changed since the last time the bottle landed on him, a turn of events Atsumu doesn’t much care for. Aside from Ginjima’s kiss question, Kosaku was dared to send a flirty text to a cute girl in his class (he was left on read), Akagi was asked whether he likes butts or boobs more (it’s close but he prefers butts), and Hanada had to send a text to his older sister for tips on getting a girlfriend (some people are a lost cause but Hanada might have a chance if he lowers his standards).

What Atsumu wants to do is smack Ginjima on the head with the plastic bottle and declare the game over, but that would make all the dares he’s endured in an effort to prove he’s not a coward a waste. But there is no way he is risking making a fool of himself in front of someone not participating in their game. The truth questions aren’t much better than the dares, but at least his answer would only be heard by those in this room. Sighing, Atsumu chooses the lesser of two evils.

“Truth,” he grunts, having deemed it the safer option.

“Oh? A truth? But I thought Miya Atsumu wasn’t a coward,” Ginjima teases.

“Shut yer trap, I’m no coward! I’ve already proven on countless occasions that yer dares ain’t shit, but I’m not afraid of yer stupid questions either,” Atsumu scoffs.

“That’s pretty big talk. We gotta come up with a juicy question then,” Akagi grins.

“Oo, I know! We should ask him if—“

“Who do you have a crush on?” Suna asks, leaning forward with curiosity in his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, that’s such a lame question!” Riseki complains, the little demon he apparently is—who would have thought with how uneasy he gets on court?

“You say that, but Atsumu never talks about that stuff. Have you ever heard him so much as refer to someone as cute? And whenever someone else talks about liking someone or thinking someone is hot, Atsumu gets all quiet.”

“Hmm, Suna has a point,” Ginjima muses.

“Of course I do. So, it’s time to spill the beans now.” Suna’s smirk is teasing, but Atsumu can sense that he is genuinely interested in the answer as well.

Atsumu is very pleased with the question—Ginjima doesn’t want to kiss anyone in this room, but he had to pick an answer. But with the way Atsumu’s question is framed, he can answer simply, and honestly.

“I don’t have a crush.”

Boos echo around the table.

“The point’s not to lie, dumbass. That’s why it’s called truth,” Osamu quips.

“I know, ya scrub, which is why I’m not lying!” Atsumu snaps.

“No need to be shy, Atsumu! Yer secret’s safe with us,” Fujinami coos, and Atsumu swears he’s going to make his kouhais’ lives hell when he’s the team captain next year.

“Seriously guys, I don’t like anyone like that!” Atsumu insists, but his teammates seem to be having none of it. Kosaku slams his hand against the table, chanting “Answer!” in rhythm with the love song—because of course it’s a love song—playing in the background and the others quickly pick up. Atsumu crosses his arms and leans back defiantly, but the chanting only intensifies.

“Weren’t ya just boasting about not being afraid of our questions?” Akagi drawls.

Atsumu looks at the half-eaten cake on the kitchen counter and thinks he should have wished for better luck in party games instead of on the volleyball court.

“Fine,” Atsumu eventually relents, working his jaw. “I guess… Aocchan is… kinda cute,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. Based on the interactions Atsumu’s had with the girl, she seems nice enough, and she undoubtedly is what people would call cute. Other boys in his class seem to like her too, so it’s a believable enough answer.

Ginjima’s face lights up at the confession. “I knew it! I totally called it!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. Sure, Ginjima knew it when it’s not even true. It’s funny how Osamu was all about answering questions honestly, but the others didn’t accept his answer until he lied about it. Atsumu shoots a glare at his brother to find that he’s already squinting back at him suspiciously.

“Wait, who’s Aocchan?” Agaki asks, eager to get in on the gossip.

“Aochi Katsuko, she’s in our class,” Ginjima supplies. “Pretty tall, brown curly hair, uses glasses.”

“Oh, I know her! She is pretty, isn’t she, and her hair is gorgeous,” Kosaku grins, nudging Atsumu. “Honestly dude, you should go for it. I think ya might have a chance.”

“I agree,” Ginjima nods sagely. “She definitely has at least a small crush on ya.”

“Though only god knows why,” Suna jabs. Atsumu turns to glare at him in mock incredulity and to make it known that there are many reasons to have a crush on him, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he notices the phone in Suna’s hand. Atsumu mentally beats himself for not checking whether Suna had his phone out before answering the question, because Atsumu confessing to having a crush for the first time ever is something Suna would absolutely want to have on video.

“Sunarin!” Atsumu tries to grab Suna’s phone, but the bastard is holding it out of his reach. “Ya better not have recorded that! Gimme the phone so I can delete the video.”

“Nuh-uh. You don’t even have any proof that I took a video.”

“That smug look on yer ugly face is proof enough!” Atsumu gets up and starts making his way around the table to pry the phone out of Suna’s hands, but Osamu steps in his way and pushes him back toward his seat with a look of annoyance. Of course he would take Suna’s side, that traitor.

“The hell, Samu?” Atsumu tries to get around his twin again, but Osamu stands firm.

“Calm down, ya scrub. No one cares about yer silly little crush anyway.”

“It’s illegal to film someone without their permission, ya know! Lemme delete the video, and I won’t rat on ya.”

“What video?” Suna asks, feigning innocence. His face has relaxed back to its usual indifference, but a hint of self-satisfaction still lingers.

“To be fair, I didn’t see him taking no video,” Ginjima shrugs.

Atsumu stares daggers at him. “I hate all of ya,” he groans and slumps back down into his chair like a petulant child. He continues the game, putting way more force into spinning the bottle than necessary.

Safe to say, Atsumu does not enjoy the rest of their game of truth or dare. The bottle doesn’t even land on Suna or his treacherous twin, so Atsumu can’t get his revenge on them. He only has patience for a few more rounds before declaring that it’s late and the party’s over. Osamu has no objections, so their guests slowly trickle out, leaving Atsumu and Osamu to clean up.

Atsumu had turned down the music and switched the party playlist to his chill one for late nights, but he doesn’t feel much calmer. He is aggressively crumpling empty bags of chips when he feels Osamu’s eyes on him.

“What, ya scrub? Spit it out or let me sulk in peace.”

“Ya know Rin’s not gonna send the video to anyone, right? He just likes having blackmail material over ya.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu mumbles, chucking the bags into the trashcan. He just wants to forget the whole ordeal.

“Why’d ya lie, anyway?” Osamu asks casually enough, but the tone he’s using lets Atsumu know that Osamu isn’t dropping the subject until Atsumu gives him a satisfactory answer. Atsumu tries to wriggle his way out of answering anyway.

“Whaddya mean?” He nonchalantly wets a dishrag under the sink and starts to wipe the table, all the while firmly avoiding eye contact with his brother.

“Ya know what I mean, ya scrub. Yer a shit liar.”

“Am not! I’m—“

“Yes, ya are. I dunno how everyone else bought it, but it’s plain as day that ya don’t have a crush on Aochi.”

Atsumu hates his brother’s perceptiveness. He would much rather just let this matter be, but Osamu can be just as stubborn as Atsumu, and this is clearly one of those times when his twin will not let it go. Usually that wouldn’t stop Atsumu from battling it out a little longer, but he’s tired, and the game left him in a bad mood.

“Yeah, okay. I lied. I don’t have a crush on Aochi,” Atsumu sighs.

Osamu is a piece of shit on a good day, and an insufferable asshole on the others, but there are also rare moments when Atsumu doesn’t regret not eating his twin in the womb. Sometimes Osamu just gets Atsumu, and talking to him about anything that might be troubling Atsumu is just so easy. Maybe it would do Atsumu good to talk about the discomfort their game stirred up in him. But before he a chance do that, Osamu opens his dumb mouth again.

“I knew it. So, who do ya actually have a crush on that yer trying to cover for?” he grins teasingly.

Atsumu throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t have a crush! I was telling the truth when I said that, but everyone started calling me a liar anyway.”

“Don’t start that again.”

Atsumu flings the wet rag at Osamu, though he catches it with infuriating ease. “You just said I’m a shitty liar! Shouldn’t ya be able to tell if I was lying now?” Atsumu hisses.

“Oh, c’mon, everyone likes someone.” Osamu throws the dishrag back at Atsumu, who also snags it from the air before it reaches his face.

“Well I don’t, ya shithead.” Atsumu hurls the rag at Osamu again, harder this time, then shoves past him and storms upstairs. “Ya can clean up the rest on yer own, I’m going to bed!”

“Get yer sorry ass back down here! I ain’t cleaning all this on my own!” Atsumu hears Osamu stomping after him, so he ducks into the bathroom and locks the door.

“Goddammit, Tsumu, open the door!”

“I can’t hear ya!” Atsumu sing-songs and starts brushing his teeth while Osamu bangs on the door. If his brother refuses to listen to him when he tells him the truth, then Atsumu too can just pretend Osamu doesn’t exist.

The pounding on the door stops, and there’s a beat of silence, before Osamu speaks again.

“Fine, I’ll let ya off the hook this time and finish cleaning on my own,” he grits through his teeth. And then, in a softer voice, “But ya know ya can tell me anything, right?”

Atsumu does know that, but he’s not sure what it is he wants to tell his twin. He already said he doesn’t have a crush, but that doesn’t feel like the whole truth. And Osamu didn’t believe him anyway.

Atsumu stays quiet for a while, but he can still feel Osamu’s presence just outside the bathroom. Finally, he relents.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles.

He listens to Osamu’s footsteps retreating downstairs before finishing his nightly routine and going to bed. He’s still reading his manga when Osamu comes in and settles into the bottom bunk, but neither of them says anything.

Atsumu foolishly thought that his torment would be over after their birthday party, but now that his so-called friends have gotten a confession out of him, they keep pestering him to confess his feelings to Aochi. Atsumu keeps telling them to shut up and mind their own businesses, but to no avail. The last time he checked, all his friends were single too, so perhaps they should worry about their own love lives instead of badgering Atsumu, but for some reason all their worlds now revolve around Atsumu’s crush. A crush that doesn’t even exist.

Atsumu tried to explain that his crush isn’t even that big, and while he thinks Aochi is cute, he doesn’t actually want to date her. This only resulted in accusations of Atsumu being a coward again—as if Atsumu has any reason to be afraid of asking someone out. Then Atsumu reasoned that he doesn’t have time to date with school and volleyball practice. This, in turn, resulted in teasing that while volleyball is the love of Atsumu’s life, he can’t marry it, so he needs to settle for another bride. Atsumu doesn’t see a problem with never marrying anyone, but when he told as much, it was disregarded as yet another excuse.

Atsumu should’ve picked someone way out of his league to avoid this torture. Not that it would have been an easy feat—who wouldn’t want to date him? He has received a few confessions in high school, and if they didn’t make him so damn uncomfortable, he’d complain that not enough confessions have been sent his way.

After a few weeks since the truth or dare incident, his friends seem to finally be letting it go. Atsumu is eating lunch with his fellow second-year teammates, and the subject of Atsumu’s love life has not come up once—to Atsumu’s immense relief. Although, it’s almost suspicious how completely they’ve dropped the topic. But Atsumu isn’t about to point it out in case they have actually forgotten, and his inquiry reignites their teasing.

They’re in the middle of arguing which V.League team has the coolest looking jersey—Atsumu is an avid defender of the Jackals’ black and gold design—when he hears his name being called behind him. The voice is so faint in the loud chatter of the school canteen that Atsumu’s not sure if he heard it or just imagined it.

When he turns around, he finds Aochi standing there, smiling sheepishly at him.

“Oh, hey, Aocchan! What can I do for ya?” Atsumu hears his teammates snickering behind him.

“I was wondering if I could talk to ya for a second?” Aochi seems nervous, but her words are determined.

“Umm, yeah, okay. I mean, sure. Let’s get away from these idiots.” Atsumu shoots a glare at his friends, who are now wiggling their eyebrows at him.

Atsumu follows Aochi around the corner to where the vending machines are. The chatter from the canteen is still audible, but no one will be able to overhear them.

“So… what’s up?” Atsumu says, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s aiming for a casual tone, but he’s not sure he likes where this is going.

Aochi hesitates, then takes a deep breath. “Well, I wanted to ask ya for yer number and see if we could hang out sometime. I’m not asking ya on a date or anything, but I really like ya, and I’d love to spend time with ya outside of class. And what could happen after that—“ Aochi pauses and a blush spreads across her cheeks. “Well, ya never know,” she rushes to finish with a soft chuckle.

The silence stretches between them, and Atsumu can see Aochi getting increasingly more discomfited. He himself has been about as uncomfortable as one can get ever since Aochi said the words ‘I really like ya.’

“Oh,” Atsumu blurts, just to give himself some time to think. Shit. Suddenly he does wish that more people had confessed to him, just to have more practice at politely rejecting them. The last time he had to reject someone was during the peak of his asshole phase when he had no interest in sparing anyone’s feelings. Atsumu doesn’t deny that he’s still an asshole, but he is significantly less keen on breaking someone’s heart, so he would rather not utilize the same rejection tactics he used to.

“Umm, I think yer really cool too, and I wouldn’t mind hanging out with ya, but I gotta say that I don’t really like you like that.” He puts on a smile that he hopes is reassuring but probably looks constipated.

“Oh.” It’s Aochi’s turn to be at a loss for words. She looks genuinely taken aback by Atsumu’s response.

“That’s fine then, I totally get it.” She lets out another awkward laugh. “I just thought… He said that…” She falters, then shakes her head and gives Atsumu a small smile. “Never mind—I must have misunderstood. I’ll letcha get back to yer friends.”

She bows before rushing off and leaving Atsumu frowning after her. At least she didn’t look too upset about the rejection, but why was she so confused about it? He thinks back to her words, mulling them over for a few seconds, before realizing what must have happened.

He stomps his way back to his teammates, and Atsumu wants to punch the smug looks off their faces.

“Well, well, well. How’d it—"

“Who the hell was it?” Atsumu snaps, slamming his hands against the table. “Who fucking told her that I like her?”

“Stop yelling, ya idiot. Not everyone should have to listen to yer grating voice,” Osamu sighs.

Atsumu scowls at him but sits down anyway. Some of the other students in the canteen are looking at them curiously, but most of them are probably used to his shenanigans by this point and quickly resume their own conversations after Atsumu lowers his voice to a volume only slightly louder than a normal speaking voice.

“I know ya told her, so who was it? Or was it everyone, ya snitches?” he hisses. He turns his glower towards Suna. “I know ya have it on video. It should’ve been easy enough to show it to her.”

“I told you, there’s no video, and even if there was, I wouldn’t have showed it to anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“Does it even matter?” Ginjima steps in. “Shouldn’t ya just be happy to have a hot date?”

“And what makes ya think I said yes, huh?”

“Wait, you turned her down? Why the hell d’ya do that?” Kosaku gapes.

“Like I told ya, I don’t have time to date, and I don’t like her that much anyway.” Atsumu starts packing up what he has left of his lunch, movements clipped and sharp.

“Seriously? Ya should’ve said yes to her!”

“No, ya should’ve used those brains of yers before sticking yer noses somewhere they don’t belong!”

Atsumu gets up and gathers his belongings. He shoots Osamu a dirty look, hoping it communicates how pissed he is at his twin for not shutting this down despite knowing the truth about Atsumu’s ‘crush’ on Aochi.

The bastard only shrugs. “I did tell them that it was a bad idea.”

“Well, fuck all of ya. Have a great lunch.”

Atsumu storms off toward the history classroom, where his next class will be. He slumps down to the floor in the corner and starts angrily munching on his remaining chicken.

He really hopes things won’t get awkward with Aochi. He wasn’t lying when he said he thinks she’s cool. Atsumu does like her, just not like that, and in all honesty, he doesn’t know why that’s the case. She’s beautiful, but maybe she just isn’t Atsumu’s type—not that he has any idea what his type is. She’s one of the smartest students in their class, but maybe she takes school a bit too seriously for his taste. Atsumu likes to put effort into his studies too, but he never really stresses over them. Though, on the other hand, he can also respect Aochi’s determination to stay at the top of their class. Atsumu remembers her saying that she’s not the biggest volleyball fan, which of course caught his attention and not in a good way. However, she is part of Inarizaki’s swimming team and shares Atsumu’s passion for sports in that sense.

Atsumu really can’t pinpoint any reason why he doesn’t like her. But don’t people always talk about finding ‘the one’? Perhaps Aochi just isn’t the one for him. Then, who is?

Sighing, he moves on to his dessert pudding. He crumples the foil lid and tosses it into the trashcan on the other side of the room.

His friends and classmates are all about dating and kissing and sex these days. It’s not the first time Atsumu realizes this—it’s already been a few years of his friends bringing up topics that Atsumu has no interest in—but the contrast between Atsumu’s and his friends’ experiences has become more evident lately. Atsumu just wants to play volleyball and hang out with his friends like they used to. It makes him feel childish sometimes, but he truly does not understand what’s so great about relationships.

Atsumu supposes he’s lucky that none of his friends have been able to score a date yet. He doesn’t even want to think about how much worse it would be if all of them were in relationships.

Atsumu has also been a little selfish in this regard. His twin has an unmistakable crush on Suna, and it’s just as obvious that Suna returns his feelings, but it seems like Osamu would need a little nudge to get his shit together and make a move. And where Osamu is afraid to make a move, Atsumu is afraid to tell him to make a move, because he can’t shake the feeling that things will shift irreversibly after someone in his friend group starts dating. So, he’s selfishly trying to hold onto this phase when they’re all still single and there are no relationships to overshadow their friendships.

Atsumu finishes his pudding and checks the time. There are still a few minutes before the next class starts—a few more minutes to reflect on the tragedy that is being a teenager, that is. He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. Why did life have to stop being nice and simple?

Sometimes, Atsumu just wants someone to flip a switch in his brain to make him feel what everyone else is feeling. Maybe it would be less bittersweet to see his friends move onto the next stage of their lives if he wasn’t the only one left behind. But it’s probably just taking Atsumu a little longer than his friends to enter that next phase—the one where romance and everything that comes with it feels exciting. His time will come too, but for now, all he can do is wait for that time to come.

The bell rings, marking the end of the lunch break. Atsumu tucks his empty bento box into his bag and throws away the rest of his trash.

When Ginjima walks in, Atsumu makes a point not to look at him.

Atsumu has turned ignoring his twin during volleyball practice into an artform. It is harder than it might sound, because he can’t completely disregard Osamu—a certain amount of communication is required to make sure their playing isn’t negatively affected. The trick is to deliver all necessary lines of conversation with such impersonality that technically he isn’t talking to Osamu—he could be talking to any of his teammates, or to a wall, for all he cares. He’s not communicating with Samu, his less handsome twin, but Miya Osamu, his less skilled teammate.

With all the fights that have left them not speaking to each other for a day, Atsumu has had plenty of practice at selectively ignoring his brother. This comes in especially handy today, because this time he has all six of his second-year teammates to ignore instead of just Osamu. He’s also more pissed at them than he usually is at Osamu, which makes it harder to act aloof around them—Atsumu would rather smack some sense into them. He would rather not have to be in the assholes’ presence at all, but he needs a better reason to skip volleyball practice than that. Besides, while every second he has to spend with his shithead friends darkens his mood, every second spent playing volleyball makes him feel better, so it cancels out.

Aochi doesn’t seem too affected by Atsumu’s rejection based on the few times their eyes locked during the second half of their school day. She looked away after offering a sheepish smile every time it happened, but she seemed more embarrassed than hurt. And it’s a relief—Atsumu had been bracing for a cold shoulder and bitter gossiping, but he’s sure that with a little time, they can go back to being friendly classmates again. But just because no irreparable damage was done doesn’t mean Atsumu has forgiven his teammates for pulling Aochi into this.

He’s currently explaining to Ginjima as impassively as possible that he’d like to experiment with sending him tosses a bit farther away from the net. He’s looking anywhere but into Ginjima’s eyes, and he puts all his acting skills into sounding like he couldn’t care less about setting to him. He has a small moment of astonishment when he realizes that he’s acting like Suna right now. Is his carefully put together demeanor just what Suna is naturally like? Maybe he’ll ask Suna for tips on how to act so detached—when they’re on speaking terms again, that is.

Continuing with their set-and-spike drills, Atsumu follows through on his promise and sets the ball slightly farther from the net. Ginjima manages a decent hit, though his spike lacks a bit of his usual power.

“I’m doing the same thing next round,” Atsumu deadpans. He a ball that has rolled to his side of the court, taking advantage of the moment when Ginjima doesn’t see his face to mouth “fuckhead”.

Next up is Suna, who nails his spike as always. Atsumu pointedly doesn’t shout a ‘Nice kill!’ like he does for the first- and third-year hitters, who Atsumu showers with unusually many compliments, just to make sure the silent treatment he’s giving his fellow second-years is more evident.

They go through the line of spikers a few times, before Coach Kurosu calls off practice for the day. Atsumu decides to practice his serves for a few more minutes to make sure the others have left by the time he makes it to the locker room.

He picks up a ball, counts six steps from the end line, and is just about to toss the ball into the air when he’s stopped in his tracks by a soft voice calling his name.

Atsumu turns around to face Kita and suppresses the instinct to give him an army salute. “Yes, Kita-san?”

“Are ya planning on practicing some serves?” The answer to Kita’s question should be obvious, but Atsumu would never point something like that out to Kita.

“Yes, but I promise I’m not gonna overwork myself and I’ll clean up the gym after I’m finished,” Atsumu assures.

“Hmm. I wanted to ask if I could join ya and practice my serve receives a little.”

“Y-yes, of course!” Atsumu blurts. Kita practically never stays after coach announces training over for the day—if he wants to squeeze in some personal practice, he comes to the gym before practice starts. Some of the others are also ogling at the rare occurrence, but they quickly resume their cool-down routines when Kita gives them the slightest raise of his eyebrows.

Kita takes his position on the opposite side of the net, and what Atsumu thought would be a relaxing serve practice to kill time and blow off some steam has suddenly become a nerve-racking test of skill. Crowds at games never make Atsumu nervous, but something about Kita’s quiet gaze makes it more difficult to bear than the thousands of eyes spectating their games.

Gulping, Atsumu tosses the ball in the air and hits it toward the left side line, but it doesn’t land as close to the line as he hoped, and Kita receives it with relative ease. Kita’s face stays as neutral as ever when he looks back at Atsumu, but Atsumu can sense the underlying message behind the expression—you can do better than that, and you would have, had I not been here.

Kita crouches back into position, while Atsumu grabs another ball and once again takes six steps from the end line. This time he aims for the back right corner of the opposite side, putting more force and confidence into his serve. Kita starts to move toward the trajectory of the serve but doesn’t manage to connect with the ball before it slams into the court. Atsumu pumps his fist in celebration, whereas Kita’s expression remains the same.

Atsumu switches to jump floaters, managing to catch Kita off guard with a few of them. Kita’s receives are infuriatingly good, though, so he’s able to bump most of Atsumu’s serves, if not always cleanly.

Atsumu is surprised that Kita still hasn’t called their extra practice off. Suddenly nervous that this is a test to see whether he’ll overstay on the court if he’s not told to leave, Atsumu declares that this will be his final serve. The rest of their team has already finished cooling down, so the coast should be clear.

Atsumu takes four steps from the end line and sends the ball floating Kita’s way. His final serve is an especially nasty one—looking like it’s going straight to Kita, but taking a turn right before Kita can get his hands under it. By the time Kita has reacted to the change in the ball’s trajectory, it has already hit the floor.

Kita stands up with an expression that—call Atsumu delusional—looks almost proud. The corners of his mouth are upturned into one sixteenth of a smile and there’s more warmth in his brown eyes than usual.

“Nice serve,” he says before starting to pick up the balls scattered across the gym floor.

A grin spreads across Atsumu’s face. It’s not like Kita never offers compliments—he’s not afraid to point out flaws and similarly doesn’t shy away from praising good plays—but his compliments are usually directed at the team in general. Getting a compliment directed only at him, especially when they’re the only ones in the gym, feels more special, somehow.

Atsumu shakes himself out of his bubble and starts taking the net apart. They clean up the gym in companionable silence disturbed only by Atsumu’s happy whistling.

It’s only after they finish cleaning up and start doing their stretches when Atsumu finds out why Kita stayed to practice with him.

“Is everything okay between ya and the other second-years?”

Atsumu frowns while reaching out for his toes to stretch out his hamstrings. He’s not surprised Kita noticed the tension between them—Kita never misses things like that. However, he is often in the middle of some petty squabble with Osamu, and Kita rarely calls them out on it as long as it doesn’t affect their playing.

“Oh. We just had a little disagreement, is all,” Atsumu says stiffly and switches to stretching his other leg.

“Hmm,” Kita muses, lying down on his back to stretch his glutes and gazing at the ceiling pensively.

Atsumu swallows nervously. Kita has a special skill of turning silence into a torture device—long gone is the comfortable silence of their serve-and-receive drills.

Now that Kita brought up the topic, Atsumu realizes that he hadn’t spared a single thought to the Aochi situation. He had been prepared to use his alleged friends’ faces as imaginary targets for his serves, but with Kita’s grounding—albeit fear-inducing—presence on the opposite side of the net, Atsumu’s mind never wandered to the events of the afternoon. Now that he’s back to thinking about it, the frustration about the situation also makes its way back.

“I don’t mean to intrude, but ya seemed more troubled today than ya usually do after a fight with Osamu,” Kita finally says. He gets up to stretch his arms and looks at Atsumu softly. “And it looked like it wasn’t just Osamu this time, but quite a few of yer friends. So, I just wanted to make sure ya have someone to talk to if ya need it.”

Atsumu finds himself having to fight back tears. Atsumu is reminded of the time he was sick, and Kita sent him home with a care package. It’s easy to forget how caring their captain can be due to his usual bluntness.

Atsumu blinks a few times to make the tears go away and joins Kita in stretching out his arms, thinking about what to say. Atsumu might be angry at his friends, but he doesn’t want to rat on them. He knows he can talk to Kita confidentially, though, so he settles for a vague explanation of the situation.

“They did something behind my back to supposedly help me, but I don’t even want the thing they tried to help me get. And I’d been telling them—repeatedly—that I don’t want it, but they wouldn’t fucking listen to me!” He takes a deep breath. “And it’s not just about me—they pulled one of my classmates into it too. I’m just glad the whole thing didn’t become a mess, 'cause it damn well coulda."

“Well, it definitely sounds like they overstepped, then. They shouldn’t have acted behind yer back, especially if they had reason to believe that’s not what ya want. Why’d they refuse to listen to ya, though?”

“They thought I was lying. That I did want it, and I was just being a coward about it.” Finished with his stretches, Atsumu plops down to lie on the floor.

“But ya genuinely don’t want it?” Kita says, tilting his head a little.

Atsumu averts his eyes to stare at the ceiling. His heart is suddenly thumping in his chest, even though the rush of practice had already faded.

“I… don’t think so.”

There’s a beat of silence. Kita seems to sense Atsumu’s unwillingness to talk about this subject and doesn’t press it further.

“In any case, they shoulda respected yer wishes regarding the matter. But I also think that, ultimately, they had yer best interests in mind,” Kita says.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure they did,” Atsumu mumbles.

“So, I hope ya stop ignoring them. They can’t apologize if ya don’t give ‘em a chance to talk to ya,” Kita says, switching back to his sterner captain voice. “C’mon, we should lock up and head home.”

Atsumu immediately springs back on his feet. “Aye, let’s go.”

He follows Kita to the locker room and starts changing into his tracksuit. He feels a bit better after his talk with Kita, but he’s not looking forward to going home and back to ignoring Osamu. It’d be much easier if he could just sulk the rest of the day in peace and not have to face his twin until tomorrow.

As Atsumu is zipping up his jacket, he notices Kita studying him. “My offer wasn’t valid for just today, by the way. If ya wanna talk to someone outside yer friend circle, I’m still gonna be here for a few more months.”

Atsumu nods absentmindedly and flings his bag over his shoulder, before making his way outside, Kita following after him. He might actually take Kita up on his offer, if he had any idea what to say. He’s not sure what exactly is bothering him—or maybe it’s that there are so many things bothering him that he doesn’t know where to start.

The night air is crisp, and it’s already dark. Atsumu’s lost in thought, staring at his school’s name on Kita’s back while the captain locks the gym door.

“When did ya have yer first crush?” Atsumu blurts out as Kita turns around. His face turns red in mortification. “Oh, I didn’t mean to ask that. Forget I said anything,” Atsumu rambles, but Kita doesn’t seem annoyed or offended—just curious.

“My first crush, huh?” he muses, looking up at the clear night sky and thinking about it for a moment. “I think I had just started middle school. I thought this one kid a year above me was the coolest person I’d ever known, but their family moved abroad during the summer break, so I never got a chance to talk to ‘em.”

His eyes meet Atsumu’s again. “Ya don’t gotta answer if yer not comfortable, but what made ya ask?”

Atsumu fidgets with his sleeves, watching his breath swirl in the cold evening air. “I was just wondering what’s too late to have yer first crush, is all.”

“I doubt there’s a time too early or too late for that. We’re all different, ain’t we? The right time is whatever time’s right for ya.”

“Hmmm, yeah. I guess,” Atsumu sighs. “Well, anyway. I’ll letcha go home now.”

“Okay, but one more thing, Atsumu. Yer thinking about giving Osamu the silent treatment tonight, aintcha? Please don’t do that. He looked like he actually felt bad about whatever it is that he and the others did, so ya should hear him out.”

Atsumu freezes. How does he know that?

“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll listen to what the scrub has to say,” Atsumu mutters. “I promise,” he adds when Kita keeps looking at him expectantly.

“Alright. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night, Atsumu.”

“G’night, Kita-san!”

Atsumu spends his walk back home wondering if Kita will somehow know if he breaks his promise. There’s no way he’s waving a white flag to his brother this soon after his betrayal. There have been no fights between the twins that a good night’s sleep didn’t resolve, and this one isn’t going to be an exception. Atsumu will hear Osamu out—he’ll just do it in the morning instead of tonight. Things will be back to normal by tomorrow’s practice, so there’s no way for Kita to know that Atsumu did spend the night moping. Right?

Chapter Text

The air is cold as Atsumu waits for his train at the Shin-Osaka station. The sun has risen, but traces of pink and orange still color the horizon.

Atsumu is doing little hops in place—half to keep himself warm, half to keep his nerves at bay. This is the first time Atsumu’s taking such a long trip on his own.

“Are ya sure ya have yer phone charger?” Atsumu’s mom had insisted on accompanying him on the first leg of his journey, but he’s meant to get on the Tokaido shinkansen that will take him to Tokyo alone.

“Yeah, yeah. Ya made me double check I have everything I need like five times.”

“And yet yer still gonna be missing something, I just know it,” she sighs. “If ya notice anything is missing, just give us a call and I’ll bring it to ya, okay? It’s not that long a drive.”

“Ma, that’s ridiculous. It’s a seven-hour drive. If I’m missing something, I’ll buy it or just make do without it. But I ain’t missing anything.”

“You’ll miss us, though, right? We’re sure as hell gonna miss ya! I can’t believe we’re gonna have only one of ya headaches under our roof for a whole week. My instincts are probably gonna kick in at some point and I’m gonna go look for ya in the forest to see if yer setting up camp there again.”

“Ma!” Atsumu rolls his eyes. “I haven’t done that since I was nine.”

“Funny, I could’ve sworn I remember ya doing that after yer 11th birthday, too.”

“Fine,” Atsumu murmurs. “But it’s still been over six years!”

“I know, I know,” his mom chuckles.

When they were younger and Osamu said something especially mean to Atsumu, Atsumu would stuff a backpack full of water and snacks, grab a blanket and a pillow from their porch, and build a shelter for himself in a forest patch near their house. The idea was to stay there until Osamu came to beg for Atsumu to return, apologizing and saying he couldn’t live without Atsumu.

Atsumu remembers sitting in his makeshift tent with his arms crossed, ready to play it cool when Osamu came groveling to him.

Osamu never came before nightfall, though, which is when their mom came to convince Atsumu to come back home, knowing that Atsumu would absolutely have spent the night in the woods out of stubbornness had she not dragged him out. Atsumu never found out how long he could’ve stayed away from Osamu before his twin needed him to come back.

He’s going away for a week now—would Osamu have come for him if he had stayed in that forest for a week?

“Do ya think Samu’s gonna miss me?” Atsumu’s not quite sure what impels him to ask the question.

His mom gives him a soft smile. “Of course he will! I mean, he’d never admit it, but he’ll miss ya lots.”

An announcement echoes around the station, letting Atsumu know that his train will arrive in one minute.

“Alright, dear, have a great camp! Please text us when ya get there and call us in the evening to let us know how yer first day went.”

“Will do, ma. Love ya.”

“Love ya, and remember that yer dad and I are so proud of ya! See ya on Sunday!”

Atsumu steps on the train, waving goodbye to his mom one last time before the doors close behind him. He settles into a window seat, a waft of cold air leaking through from the outside as he puts his headphones on.

His teachers gave him assignments he has to complete to make up for the classes he’s going to miss while he’s in Tokyo. He wants to get some work done on the train, so that he can put more focus into volleyball at the camp. He decides to start with his favorite subject, English—it’s easy to practice with all the movies, series, and music in English, and it’ll be useful if he ever plays with teammates who don’t speak Japanese, or when he’s traveling for international tournaments.

Bobbing his head to the music he put on, Atsumu takes out his English textbooks. The homework appears to be a bunch of participial phrase exercises and a reading comprehension assignment. He isn’t in the mood to read the long text right now, so he leaves it for later. He sets to work translating participial phrases into Japanese instead, but his mind keeps wandering.

His friends apologized to him the day after the Aochi incident. Well, everyone except Osamu, who didn’t apologize, but he did admit that he should have been more insistent on telling the others not to talk to Aochi on Atsumu’s behalf.

However, another quarrel soon befell Atsumu and his twin when Atsumu received an invitation to the youth camp, and Osamu didn’t. At first, Atsumu had been angry about Osamu not being invited, but Osamu said that it made sense. Then, he had been angry about Osamu not being angry about not being invited. Osamu has put just as much work into volleyball as Atsumu, so why wasn’t he frustrated that his hard work wasn’t being recognized?

According to Osamu, he was frustrated, just not about not being invited. He was frustrated about not being more frustrated. To be honest, Atsumu didn’t quite get what the hell Osamu was going on about, but his twin said that it was actually quite simple why Atsumu was invited and he wasn’t—Atsumu just loves volleyball a smidge more than he does.

Sighing, Atsumu leans back in his seat and looks at the scenery flashing by. The sun has completely risen now, though some clouds have appeared to dim its shine.

Atsumu does love volleyball. He lives and breathes the sport. It holds all his best memories, and it’s all he sees in his future. And the better he gets at it, the more fun playing becomes, which is exactly why he’s going to the youth camp—to improve his abilities and play with and against other talented players. Really, he couldn’t be more excited to go. Except that’s not quite true.

The thing is, while Atsumu loves volleyball, so far, there hasn’t been volleyball without Osamu. All those memories about volleyball have Osamu in them. He goes to practice with Atsumu every day and he’s by his side during every match. He’s the one Atsumu wants to keep playing volleyball with forever.

Where there’s been volleyball, there’s been Osamu. The other half of the Miya twins, in the position opposite to Atsumu’s, ready to spike the balls Atsumu sends his way. Loving the sport just as much as Atsumu.

But not this time.

There is no world in which Atsumu would’ve preferred to go to the camp without Osamu, but since he won’t be there, Atsumu can admit that it might do him good to spend some time on the court without his brother. After all, there are no guarantees that they’ll get into the same team right after high school. It’s possible they have to play in different teams for a few years before that can happen.

It’s not like Atsumu needs his brother on the court, anyway. With his sets, even a random group of six players could outshine everyone else. Atsumu would be happy to kick his brother’s ass as his opponent for a few years before standing on the same side of the net again.

But it’s not just about playing volleyball without Osamu. Atsumu has never spent more than one night under a different roof than his twin. He’ll have to learn how to live without Osamu, too, and while Atsumu might not need his brother on the court, he’s not so sure if the same applies to life off the court.

The train stops and Atsumu is jolted from his thoughts. He realizes that he hasn’t gotten any work done, spinning his pen instead of writing down answers. He decides that he needs some extra motivation, so he unwraps a chocolate bar and flips back to the exercises.

Unfortunately for him, a family of tourists got on the train at the latest stop, and the children are yelling in a language Atsumu doesn’t recognize. He glowers at them, hoping the parents notice his murderous glare and bring their kids into line, but they seem engrossed in making travel plans. After a few more noisy moments, Atsumu admits defeat—he’ll just have to suck it up. He grumbles something about stupid children to himself, turns up his music, and gets back to work.

Atsumu has to transfer trains twice in Tokyo and, contrary to what Osamu insisted in the morning, he manages to catch the right one both times. He takes a photo of the Ajinomoto training center while flipping off the camera, and sends it to Osamu.

To: the spare one
> [image]
> take that you scrub 凸(・`ω´・)
> didn’t get lost or nothing
> made it in time too

From: the spare one
> That’s too bad
> There’s the return trip too though so I still have my hopes up

To: the spare one
> i hope you fall into a ditch on your way home now that i’m not there to hold your hand and no one finds you

From: the spare one
> Oh no need to worry about that, Rin’s coming over tonight

To: the spare one
> aww so is suna gonna hold your hand instead? (*¯ ³¯*)

There’s no immediate reply from Osamu, so Atsumu makes his way inside to the training center. The lobby is cozy, with potted plants and couches that look blissfully soft to Atsumu after sitting on the trains’ uncomfortable seats the whole morning.

From: the spare one
> No??
> Anyway, we gotta make the most of the house being habitable now that you’re away

To: the spare one
> oh? and what exactly are you gonna do with suna to make most of the privacy?

There’s another pause on Osamu’s side, and Atsumu rolls his eyes. Osamu rarely blushes, but Atsumu can picture him deleting and retyping his reply, pretending he has no idea what Atsumu’s talking about.

Atsumu’s looking at the signs to find where the volleyball gym is, when his phone finally chimes again.

From: the spare one
> Talk shit about you obviously

To: the spare one
> aww i’m glad to hear you’re thinking about me ❤

There’s no reply, and Atsumu guesses that this time there won’t be one. Pocketing his phone, Atsumu heads off to the direction the signs point him.

The volleyball gym is easy enough to find. Atsumu checks the time—12:49. The scheduled meeting time isn’t until half past one, and it looks like Atsumu is the first to arrive. He wanted to reserve some extra time for his travels—not because he doubted his ability to make the connections, obviously, but just in case someone else screwed up and delayed one of his trains. Besides, they won’t have time to eat until dinner, and Atsumu wanted to be able to enjoy the lunch his mom packed for him in peace before practice starts.

Atsumu settles into one of the benches in the corridor and unpacks his bento box, the familiar smell of his mom’s cooking definitely not making him homesick. As he eats, he wonders about who else got invited to the camp. He has some guesses, of course, based on the articles he’s read in Monthly Volleyball as well as the observations he’s made himself during national tournaments. But plenty of great players get eliminated in their prefectural qualifiers and never receive the attention nationals bring, so Atsumu’s expecting to see a lot of new faces too.

How will he get along with everyone, he wonders.

Atsumu didn’t used to concern himself with whether others liked him or not. He had volleyball, and he had Osamu—the former of which didn’t care is he was a piece of shit, and the latter was just as much of a piece of shit as Atsumu. He knew he’d always have them, so what else would he need?

Volleyball and Osamu remain the two most important things in his life, but somehow, it doesn’t feel quite enough anymore.

Atsumu has never felt like he needed more friends, but the fight following Aochi’s confession made him realize that he truly doesn’t have any friends outside the volleyball club. Kita hadn’t been wrong when he assumed Atsumu didn’t have any other friends to turn to when he was angry with his teammates.

Atsumu also can’t help but wonder how many of even his teammates would be his friends if not for Osamu. He knows they are his friends now, but they were Osamu’s friends first. Atsumu started as an unfortunate by-product, who eventually grew on them.

Atsumu didn’t used to concern himself with whether others liked him or not, but maybe he should now. Their graduation is only a year away, and after that, Atsumu and his friends will go their separate ways. Atsumu will have new teammates, but will he have new friends?

A few minutes past one, when Atsumu has just finished his lunch, other boys start trickling into the corridor. Atsumu faintly remembers playing against some of them at nationals, but he doesn’t know any of their names. There’s a short white-haired kid who Atsumu’s never seen before and who looks ready to pick a fight every time someone looks at him.

Atsumu does know the next boy stepping into the corridor. Komori Motoya perfectly bumped Atsumu’s serve at this year’s Interhigh finals, and his team scored the winning point off that receive. Shortly after, with a silver medal around his neck and the tournament’s best setter award in his hand, Atsumu watched Komori receive the best libero award along with his gold medal. But even if Atsumu hadn’t encountered him at a tournament, it'd be hard not to know Komori Motoya, what with Monthly Volleyball listing him as the nation’s top libero and all.

Atsumu is surprised to see Komori alone, though. Komori is undoubtedly a brilliant player, but he’s not the most interesting member of the Itachiyama Institute volleyball team. The one who scored the winning point against Inarizaki was Sakusa Kiyoomi, one of the top three high school aces in Japan, and a huge pain in Atsumu’s ass during the final match. Naturally, Atsumu had a great time playing against him.

There’s no way Sakusa wasn’t invited to this camp, but Atsumu would have expected him to arrive together with Komori, seeing that at the Interhigh, Sakusa was never far from his cousin. Atsumu hopes nothing is keeping Sakusa from attending the camp—he’s one of the players Atsumu was the most excited to play with.

A few more minutes pass before the doors to the gym open, and a man with brown spiky hair and glasses steps out.

“You all must be here for the youth camp,” he smiles at the boys in the corridor.

“Welcome! It’s great to meet you. I’m Hitaki Kotaro, coach of the All Japan Boys’ Youth team. We won’t start for another fifteen minutes, so I’ll stay here to welcome the players who aren’t here yet, but you can go ahead and get changed. You’ll find the locker rooms straight across the doorway. You can leave your belongings in the locker room too—you’ll be directed into your rooms later.”

There’s a chorus of “Yes, sir,” and “Thank you” as the camp attendees start making their way into the gym.

It’s a similar setting to the gyms where the national tournaments are held, with three courts side to side but obviously no stands for spectators. Atsumu follows the others into the locker room and changes into his volleyball gear.

The locker room is getting crowded, so once Atsumu’s finished changing, he makes sure his phone is on silent—in case Osamu starts missing him and spams him with messages and calls—before putting it in his bag and stepping into the gym to wait.

Atsumu soon finds out he was correct about Sakusa being invited. The Itachiyama ace enters the gym, donning a mask and a borderline disgusted expression, as usual, followed by another black-haired kid who Atsumu has never seen before. The latter is gaping at his surroundings like he’s never seen electric lights before.

Sakusa walks past Atsumu toward the locker room with single-minded determination, not sparing so much as a glance at Atsumu. Atsumu squints his eyes at him, though he can’t say he’s surprised—Sakusa hadn’t said a word to him even when they were shaking hands after the Interhigh finals. All Atsumu got out of him was a curt nod.

The other black-haired boy almost walks into Atsumu while gawking at the ceiling.

Once everyone has changed, they are called to gather in front of the coaches. Hitaki introduces himself again along with Hibarida Fuki, the men’s Olympic team coach, who says a few inspiring words to kick off the camp. Hibarida’s speech is fortunately short, though the players are also asked to introduce themselves before they start practicing.

Atsumu tries to be respectful and pay attention to everyone’s names, but he’s buzzing with excitement to play, especially with all his pent-up energy after traveling the whole day. He ends up forgetting most of the names he hadn’t already heard, with the exception of the white-haired shortie—Hoshiumi Kourai, whose intense aura is impossible to ignore—and the black-haired boy who almost bumped into him—Kageyama Tobio, also a setter.

Finally, they start warming up.

“We’re going to start off with a couple of practice games, just to scope out how everyone’s doing and how well you work together,” Hibarida explains as they’re doing some warm-up exercises.

“During the week, we’ll focus more on different drills to hone specific skills. Don’t worry, though. We know you are all excited to play, so we’ll squeeze in some matches every day, too.”

After a few more warm-up drills, first without a volleyball and then passing a ball in pairs, they’re split into two teams. They seem to have invited the exact number of players of each position to create two teams—two setters, two liberos, four middle blockers, and six wing spikers.

Of his teammates for the first match, Atsumu only remembers the names of Hoshiumi, Mochida and Nagakawa, though as the games goes on and the ones who paid more attention during introductions call out names, Atsumu gradually learns the rest, too—Fujiki, Hamano, and Oguchi.

Naturally, it takes some time for everyone to sync up, though Atsumu’s sets are as easy to hit as ever. Observing how his hitters spike his sets, and listening to their requests, he quickly gets the hang of what kind of sets to give everyone.

Hoshiumi, despite his height, or the lack thereof, proves to be an excellent player with accurate spikes and clever blocks. Not that Atsumu is surprised—Hoshiumi wouldn’t be at this camp if he didn’t have the skills to make up for his small size.

On the other side of the net, Komori’s digs are as infuriatingly good as Atsumu remembers, and Kageyama’s sets look on point, if a little bland. It’s undeniable that the other setter has talent to put the ball wherever he wants it, but he seems really self-conscious about it, like he has to think really hard about every set.

Halfway through the game, Kageyama also sets the ball into thin air, as if he was expecting one of his hitters to have already jumped, ready to spike. He apologizes, saying it was force of habit. Perhaps Osamu’s comment about them only inviting slightly crazy people wasn’t completely off the mark.

And when it comes to Sakusa, the spin on his spikes is nasty as per usual. Something seems off about him, though—it feels like he’s not putting his all into the game.

The first game is a close one, with Atsumu’s team narrowly losing the third set. Atsumu wrinkles his nose when the ball hits their side of the court for the last time. Whether it’s a real match or just a practice game, Atsumu hates losing, but he figures it’s better not to make a scene. He’ll have enough chances to win a match during the week.

“Great game, everyone!” Hibarida praises. “We have time for another one before dinner. For that, let’s have Sakusa and Kondo switch places with Hoshiumi and Hamano. Take a little breather, and we’ll continue in five minutes.”

Atsumu grabs his water bottle from the sidelines and scans the crowd for a head of black curls and a murderous glare. He finds Sakusa hovering behind Komori, who is talking animatedly with Oguchi, the other libero.

Atsumu makes his way toward them. “Heyy, Sakusa-kun!”

Sakusa scowls at him for a second, then, looking away, “Hello, Miya.”

“Aww, Sakusa Kiyoomi remembers me, I’m so honored!”

Sakusa furrows his brows in perplexity. “We all literally just introduced ourselves.”

“Yeah, yeah, but who can learn so many names in such a short time?”

Sakusa doesn’t say anything, so Atsumu adds, “Besides, there’s no way ya don’t remember me from the Interhigh.”

“You seem very sure of yourself. But yes, your brash personality and unfortunately loud voice broadcasting that personality to everyone are hard to forget.” Then Sakusa walks away, Atsumu blinking after him.

“Excuse me?” Atsumu spouts.

“Sorry about him,” Komori chuckles behind Atsumu apologetically. “He’s not great with people he’s just met.”

“I can see that,” Atsumu snorts, but he’s not upset. He's invigorated, actually. He’s not one to back down from a challenge, and he was just presented with one.

Ya don't wanna talk to me? That's fine. I'm gonna get ya to talk to me, just ya wait.

The coaches ask everyone to get back on the court. The second game begins with Atsumu’s serve. He goes for a jump serve, which Komori receives perfectly. Atsumu grimaces, the play giving him flashbacks to the Interhigh finals.

Oguchi also receives the opposing team’s attack nicely, though, and the ball comes to Atsumu in a beautiful arc. He sees Sakusa making an approach on his left side and sends the ball his way. He’s been too excited to set to Sakusa to not use the first possibility to do so.

Sakusa slams the ball into the court, though not before giving it a quick once-over in the air.

“Hey, I saw that!” Atsumu says as Sakusa lands.

Sakusa turns to him with a raised eyebrow, probably trying to will Atsumu out of existence.

“Ya hesitated before hitting my set, didn’tcha?” Atsumu points at him accusingly.

Sakusa sighs. “I always want to make sure the set is okay when playing with a new setter. But it looks like there wasn’t need for that this time.”

“Hell no, there wasn’t. Only scrubs can’t hit my sets,” Atsumu huffs.

Sakusa just blinks at him and walks into position again. “Server up, Miya.”

Atsumu squints at him, but jogs to retrieve a ball and takes six steps from the end line.

Indeed, Sakusa doesn’t hesitate the next time Atsumu sends him the ball. Atsumu grins, but unlike with his other teammates, he doesn’t bother going in for a high five or a fist bump after Sakusa makes the kill. Even at nationals, Sakusa steered clear of his team’s celebrations. He didn’t celebrate his own points at all, actually, and their championship win he celebrated with a mere fist pump—other players are more excited over a clean receive.

The second game goes into a third set, too. Atsumu’s team is at match point, and both Sakusa and Mochida are in the air, ready to spike. Atsumu dumps the ball over the net instead, but Hoshiumi manages to get the ball up, and Atsumu’s team loses the rally.

Atsumu can feel Sakusa staring at him, unimpressed, as if Atsumu didn’t beat himself enough after every single failed setter dump.

The next time the ball comes to him, he sets it up for Sakusa, who ends the match.

What a luxury, Atsumu thinks when they are given permission to start their cool-down routines without having to clean up first.

Atsumu sees that Sakusa has tucked himself into a corner, with Komori strategically placed between him and the rest of the players like a human barrier. Atsumu almost walks up to Sakusa to ask what he thought about today’s games anyway, but he thinks better of it. He knows he can be a bit pushy sometimes, and he has a feeling that Sakusa might still be a bit overwhelmed by all the strangers he has to spend a week with. Atsumu needs a better strategy if he’s going to get Sakusa to speak to him.

So, he settles to stretch next to Fujiki instead, preening when the middle blocker compliments his sets.

After everyone has finished their stretches and changed back into their tracksuits, the players are assigned to their rooms. Atsumu’s roommate for the week will be Satou Wataru, a wing spiker from Toyama whom Atsumu didn’t get a chance to play with yet. They drop their stuff into their room and head to dinner together.

Satou seems nice, though Atsumu learns more things about Satou’s girlfriend than Satou himself. Atsumu tries to keep the conversation within his area of expertise, but his attempts are futile since Satou’s girlfriend also play volleyball. When he asks about Satou’s team, he gets a detailed explanation of his school’s girls’ team instead.

It's taking all of Atsumu's willpower not to snap at Satou to shut up about this girlfriend of his already, but he manages to rein his annoyance in. Atsumu wants to try being less offensive now that Osamu isn't there to soften the blows.

Satou is halfway through a story of how the girls’ team tragically lost the prefectural finals after their ace twisted her ankle, when Atsumu zones out and notices Sakusa going up to Kageyama. So you are able to speak to others, Atsumu thinks, though by the looks of it, whatever’s going on between Sakusa and Kageyama is more an interrogation than a conversation. The interaction doesn’t last long, either, before Sakusa walks away, Komori trailing after him.

Atsumu realizes that Satou has asked him something, but Atsumu has no idea what, so he gives a hesitant nod as an answer. Fortunately, Satou seems satisfied with the reaction, launching into another monologue, this time about his girlfriend’s amazing serves.

Possibly the longest dinner of Atsumu’s life finally comes to an end. After bathing, Satou announces that he’s going to one of the lobbies to call his girlfriend. Atsumu suspects that it will take him at least an hour, so he has plenty of time to make his calls too.

He collapses on his bed and chooses his mom’s contact first.

His mom picks up on the second ring. “Hello, dear! Hold on, let me get yer dad here too. Haru! Atsumu’s calling.”

Atsumu gives an abridged rundown of the day’s events, not mentioning his interactions with Sakusa but complaining at length about Satou’s obsession with his girlfriend.

“Oh, they must’ve just started dating. During that honeymoon phase, it can feel like yer partner’s the only person in the world,” his dad chuckles, but there’s fondness in his voice, which makes Atsumu think he’s probably looking at his mom when he says it.

“Indeed. Yer complaining about it now, but I bet yer gonna be like that too when ya start dating,” his mom teases.

“Uh, no I won’t!”

“See, I think yer gonna be exactly like that if yer single-minded focus on volleyball is anything to go by,” his dad says.

“You’ve always been fully dedicated to everything and everyone you love. When ya find the right girl, she’s gonna sweep ya right off yer feet, too.” Atsumu can hear the wink in his mom’s voice.

Atsumu stays silent for a moment. What if I never find the right girl? Atsumu wants to ask, but he knows his parents would interpret the question in the wrong way and assure him that there’s someone for everyone. That’s not what Atsumu is worried about.

So instead, he starts telling his parents about what they’re going to do at the camp tomorrow. They laugh at Atsumu’s sudden change of topic, but let it slide. After a few more minutes of chatting, Atsumu’s parents make him promise to call them tomorrow night too, before wishing him good night and ending the call.

Atsumu moves onto the next contact.

“Miss me already?”

It shouldn’t be possible for someone to make you want to throw your arms around them to both throttle and hug them. Then again, Osamu’s always been a freak of nature, so it’s not surprising that he can elicit such contradictory emotions.

“Yer the one who had to invite Sunarin over ‘cause ya couldn’t handle being home without me. He’s not still there, is he?”

“I wouldn’t have answered yer sorry ass if he was.” There’s rustling on Osamu’s side of the line that sounds suspiciously like a bag of chips being crumpled. Osamu had better not empty their stash of snacks while Atsumu’s gone.

“Hey! I’m yer twin, ya gotta answer me when I call. Those are the rules. What if I was having an emergency?”

“Then it would’ve been too bad.”

“I’m glad to know I mean so much to ya.”

“What the hell could I even have done to help with ya all the way in Tokyo?”

“Be with me in spirit, obviously! But it’s fine. I just realized having to listen to yer voice on my deathbed would be a terrible way to go, so I wouldn’t call you in case of an emergency anyway.”

“Please don’t, I’d hate to hafta insult a dying man and have it weigh on my conscience.” There’s a soft thump that sounds like Osamu falling into bed.

“Fortunately for ya, ya don’t have a conscience. Anyway, did ya have a nice time with Suna? Is there something in particular I would’ve interrupted if I’d called before he left?”

“Just us going through all the embarrassing videos he has of you. Ya should be afraid of how many there are.”

“Just that, huh? I thought ya said you’d make the most of me not being there.”

Atsumu can picture Osamu squinting at the ceiling. “What the hell have ya been on about lately? ‘S’not like Rin hasn’t been over to our house before, so what’s with the sudden interrogation?”

“Ya know, ya sound awfully defensive for someone supposedly so clueless.”

“Well, I gotta defend myself against yer stupidity.”

Atsumu sighs. He’s not sure how much longer he can watch his brother pine for Suna before smacking some sense into him. Atsumu doesn’t understand why Osamu doesn’t just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? They’re best friends—it’s not like one confession will ruin everything, even if Suna ends up not feeling the same way for Osamu.

But that’s inconsequential, since Suna obviously returns Osamu’s feelings. Suna’s impassive face lights up every time he meets Osamu in the morning. Maybe not much, but it’s obvious to Atsumu, and Osamu knows Suna even better than Atsumu. And, while Suna’s usually inseparable from his phone to the point of rudeness, he always pays attention to everything Osamu says and does like his life depended on it. How can Osamu be so blind to it?

Suna isn’t any better. He must have caught Osamu staring longingly at him at least a couple of times, and if not, the way Osamu keeps leaning into his personal space should be a dead giveaway. But apparently Atsumu is surrounded by idiots.

“Enough of this, tell me about this camp of yers or let me get back to enjoying the first week of peace I’ve ever known in my life. Does everyone hate yer guts already?”

“Shut up, why would anyone hate me? I’m an absolute delight to be around, ya know.”

“I most definitely do not know.”

“Well, yer dumb as fuck, so there’s a lot ya don’t know. I’m actually well on my way to getting myself a new best friend.”

“What, ya got so homesick ya went crazy and made yerself an imaginary friend?”

“No, but I’m considering switching ya for an imaginary twin. I’m telling ya, by the end of the week, I’ll be real chummy with Itachiyama’s star player.”

“Tsumu, please don’t tell me yer tormenting Sakusa Kiyoomi. He looks like he might actually murder ya. Kishi-san’s sets ain’t bad, but I hafta work way too hard to hit good spikes out of them, so we need ya to come back in one piece for the Spring High.”

“Figures. Ya don’t miss me but my sets ya can’t live without?” Atsumu grumbles.

“Yer sets are yer only redeeming quality.”

“Maybe if ya didn’t suck so bad you wouldn’t have an issue with Kishi-san’s sets. What are ya gonna do if we end up in different teams after high school and ya don’t have my luxurious sets to make up for yer lousy skills anymore?”

Atsumu expects some sassy reply, but instead he’s met with complete silence. He wonders if the line went dead.

“Samu?”

“Huh? Oh, I dunno. I’ll worry about it when the time comes. Anyway, we’re gonna win nationals with or without ya, but I’d hate to do it the hard way, so ya better not make Sakusa strangle ya in yer sleep.”

Osamu's acting weird but, to be fair, he is weird, so Atsumu ignores it this time.

“I don’t think Sakusa would strangle anyone. He’d have to get too close for that, ya know? He’d probably slip poison in my water bottle instead,” Atsumu muses.

“Well, that’s fine, but can ya tell him to wait to do that until after nationals?”

“The hell, Samu? Ya better be keep yer water bottle away from me when I get back.”

As much as Atsumu claims to despise his twin, talking to Osamu has erased any hint of homesickness he might have felt during the day. Atsumu talks a bit more about what his day was like, and Osamu updates Atsumu on the latest gossip about a third-year student who got suspended a few weeks ago, before they wish a sleepless night to each other and hang up.

Atsumu has finished his night routine and gone to bed by the time Satou comes back with traces of both a lovestruck smile and teary eyes on his face. He looks like he’s about to say something, so Atsumu quickly turns to face the wall. He has a feeling that if he lets Satou open his mouth about his girlfriend, Osamu’s wish about a sleepless night for Atsumu will come true.

Chapter Text

On the second day of the training camp, Atsumu heads down for breakfast well-rested with Satou in tow. For probably the first time in his life, Atsumu seems to be the early bird, since most camp attendees are nowhere to be seen yet.

Mochida and Kondo are the only ones there, so after getting a tray of breakfast, Atsumu sits down next to them. He hopes Satou is less inclined to babble on about his girlfriend if there are more people present.

The conversation does steer clear of Satou’s girlfriend, though Atsumu’s still not very drawn in to it. Their table is soon joined by Oguchi and Hoshiumi, the latter of which has way too much energy at 7 am for Atsumu’s liking. Though Atsumu has to admit that the conversation becomes much more intriguing with Hoshiumi taking part in it. Not necessarily because the topics are more interesting, but because he’s jumping from one topic to another every ten seconds.

Shortly, the rest of the players get down for breakfast too. To Atsumu’s surprise, Komori and Sakusa are the last to arrive. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Sakusa takes a seat by a table far away from everyone else. Komori looks like he wants to join Atsumu’s table but settles next to Sakusa anyway.

Now, Atsumu isn’t admitting to anything, but it’s possible that the sole reason he showed up so early was that he had taken Sakusa for a morning person and expected him and Komori to be the first ones at breakfast, not the last. He knows that Sakusa would never approach him, but if Sakusa was already at breakfast and Atsumu sat next to him, surely he wouldn’t be so rude as to tell Atsumu to go away.

Well, he probably would, but the point is that there’s nothing he could do to make Atsumu go away.

But clearly, Atsumu had miscalculated the situation. Fortunately, breakfast is still a massive upgrade to the dinner he had with Satou yesterday.

There’s a short break after breakfast before practice, which Atsumu uses to finish his English homework. He makes a point of putting his headphones on, slightly scared of being alone with Satou, but Satou also takes out his textbooks, and the two of them work in silence until practice starts.

“Welcome to your first full day of camp,” Hibarida says as the players gather up in the gym. “As you already know, in volleyball, there are no sets or spikes without receives. Therefore, it only makes sense that the skill we first focus on is receiving.”

“Everyone is going to participate in these skill-specific drills, even though some of you don’t participate in receiving as often as others due to your positions. But no matter your position, it’s inevitable that you have to receive a spike or a serve at least every now and then—and if you have to do something, you might as well do it right,” Hibarida grins.

Atsumu agrees, of course. There are no excuses on the court. If a spike comes to him and he botches the dig, there’s no use glossing over it just because he’s a setter. A rally lost is a rally lost.

Hitaki continues Hibarida’s speech. “During the practice games you get to play the position familiar to you. However, we are also going to play a few practice games at the end of the week where we switch up your positions, so pay attention and work hard during the week, even if you might feel like the skill of the day isn’t relevant to you.”

They start with a drill where Hitaki bounces a ball over the net, and on the other side the player at the front of the line bumps the ball to another player by the net, who catches the ball and returns it to the cart next to Hitaki. Hibarida gives feedback on their receives and tips to improve them, occasionally pausing the drill to give more detailed advice to everyone.

After a few rounds, they switch the person by the net for a ball cart, meaning the receiver has to be more accurate with where they bump the ball. The liberos look way too smug with their perfect receives, getting the ball into the cart every time. Atsumu can’t wait for tomorrow, when the focus will be on setting, and he can flaunt his amazing sets.

Fortunately, Atsumu’s great at all things related to volleyball, receiving included, so his receives are close enough to the cart too. Most of the time, anyway.

Atsumu tries to approach Sakusa during their breaks, but it’s like they’re magnets of like poles. Every time Atsumu starts toward Sakusa, Sakusa moves away from him. The breaks aren’t long enough for a game of cat and mouse, so Atsumu has to give this round to Sakusa. Besides, it would look ridiculous if Atsumu kept following Sakusa around. Not to mention creepy.

Atsumu purposefully stalls before going to lunch to make sure Sakusa gets there before him, but he gets caught in a conversation with Fujiki and Nagakawa while waiting in line, and it would probably be rude to abandon the conversation.

Being rude would be nothing new to Atsumu, of course, but he’s really trying not to be such an ass at this camp. It’s surprisingly exhausting.

Sakusa’s sitting with Komori again, anyway, so Atsumu has a feeling that if he sat with them, Sakusa would hide behind Komori’s chattiness and not say a word.

After lunch, they move on to serve receive practice. They start with the coaches sending them simple overhand serves, but then they switch to the players taking turns serving while three players receive them. Apart from the liberos, everyone has a powerful jump serve, which is no surprise considering why they’ve all been invited here.

Atsumu begrudgingly has to admit that the receiving players have a harder time digging Sakusa’s jump serves than Atsumu’s—though Atsumu partially blames this on the fact that somehow Komori is always one of the people receiving Atsumu’s serves.

They’re going to finish the day with a practice match, but first, they do a few more rounds of serve receive practice—this time with jump floaters. Atsumu preens when the coaches ask him to hit serves for the others to receive. Well, they don’t ask him specifically. They ask who can do jump floaters, and Atsumu is one of the people who step forward.

Sakusa was infuriatingly good not only at jump serves, but also at receiving them, so Atsumu takes great satisfaction when Sakusa’s unable to bump one of Atsumu’s floaters. Even Komori messes up one receive, which slightly heals the wounds that opened every time Komori perfectly received one of Atsumu’s serves at the Interhigh.

Before the practice match starts, Atsumu finally catches Sakusa when he’s filling his water bottle at the water station. Atsumu uncaps his own bottle and starts filling it up.

“Nice serves today, Sakusa-kun,” Atsumu greets.

Sakusa doesn’t look at him—just glares at the stream of water like he’s trying to will it to flow faster.

“No praise for my amazing serves?” Atsumu says, acting hurt.

“Today wasn’t even about serving, but receiving them,” Sakusa sighs while screwing the cap back on his bottle.

“Alright then. In that case, can I hear the secret behind yer magical receives?”

“Practice,” Sakusa deadpans and walks away.

Now it’s Atsumu who’s glaring at the stream of water, cursing at it for not having filled Sakusa’s bottle more slowly. During the next break, Sakusa goes back to avoiding Atsumu like he carries the plague, and as soon as they’re dismissed at the end of practice, Sakusa disappears from the gym in a flash.

Well, Atsumu got a few words out of him, at least.

A window of opportunity finally opens for Atsumu during dinner. There is a short break between the end of practice and dinner, so Atsumu decides to take a bath before going down to eat. Hence, he is a little late to dinner and the last to arrive.

Sakusa and Komori are at the front of the line when Atsumu takes his spot at the end of it. As Atsumu waits for his food, Sakusa takes his usual seat at the corner table, but this time Komori doesn’t sit next to him. Atsumu can’t hear what they’re talking about, but based on Komori’s body language, he’s trying to talk his cousin round, and the frown on Sakusa’s face indicates that he doesn’t like what Komori’s suggesting.

At the end of their exchange, Komori throws his head back in frustration and, miraculously, walks away from Sakusa to sit with some of the others. Sakusa doesn’t seem fazed by whatever happened—he simply takes off his face mask, breaks his chopsticks apart, and starts eating.

Realizing that this is his chance, Atsumu gets his food on the tray and starts toward Sakusa.

“Sakusa-kun!” Atsumu plops down to the seat across him.

Sakusa greets him with a heavy sigh, pointedly not looking up from his plate. “Shouldn’t you ask for permission before sitting down at someone else’s table?”

“Ah well, I’ll ask that next time. Ya didn’t have a fight with yer dear cousin, didja? I’ve never seen ya two apart.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Sakusa replies dryly, then shoots a death glare somewhere behind Atsumu.

Confused, Atsumu looks over his shoulder to find Komori ogling at them from the other table. Komori seems to catch Sakusa’s death glare and turns around, snickering.

Atsumu shrugs and redirects his attention back to Sakusa. “Well, I’m not too interested in that, anyway,” he says, snapping his own chopsticks apart.

“So, do you have something else you want to ask, or are you just bothering me for fun even though the distance I’ve put between myself and the other indicates that I’d prefer to be left alone?” Sakusa’s tone is ice-cold.

Atsumu wonders if he should be more worried about Sakusa poisoning him like Osamu had been. But he’s decided that he’s going to get Sakusa out of his shell, and this is his best chance yet. And, in any case, Atsumu isn’t a coward, so he presses on.

“First of all, I bet ya don’t actually want to be alone, it’s just easier for ya. But I do also have something I wanna ask ya, multiple somethings, actually. For starters, when are ya gonna start playing for real?”

Sakusa stays silent for a few seconds before responding, as if hoping that it will make Atsumu vanish. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said. Now, I’m mature enough to admit when someone beats my team fair and square”—Sakusa quirks his eyebrows at this—“but I know for a fact that we woulda at least stolen another set against ya at the Interhigh if ya had played like ya have so far at this camp.”

Sakusa glances at Atsumu, but quickly averts his gaze again.

“So, yer holding back, aint’cha?” Atsumu prods after a few seconds with no response.

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Kageyama said the same thing. I don’t understand why everyone’s on my case about this, but if you must know, I got a funny feeling in my shoulder a couple of days ago and wanted to be careful until I’m sure everything’s okay with it.”

“Huh. Well, better safe than sorry, I guess. It’d be a shame if ya had to sit out the Spring Tournament, right? We need to get our revenge on ya, after all,” Atsumu grins.

Sakusa looks at him again, this time holding his gaze for a few seconds before mumbling, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” and going back to eating his dinner.

“Well, I hope ya decide to get serious soon. Ya know the difference in how yer playing is obvious if Tobio-kun noticed it too, and he’s never even seen ya play in person before.”

Once again, there’s no reply. Sakusa seems to have decided that unless Atsumu asks him a direct question, he doesn’t have to open his mouth.

Yer a really tough one to crack, ain’tcha? Unfortunately for Sakusa, Atsumu isn’t one to give up this easily. He has a lifetime of practice at not only giving the cold shoulder to Osamu, but also at goading Osamu out of his silent treatments.

“Whaddya think about Tobio-kun, anyway?” There. A direct question.

“His sets are very accurate and easy to hit.”

“But also kinda boring, don’tcha think? It’s like if ya coded a robot to give ya the exact sets ya want, but that’s all it knows to do. Like, sure, ya always know what yer getting, but that’s all yer ever getting. Ya know what I mean?”

Sakusa gives him a look that indicates he has absolutely no idea what Atsumu means.

“Anyhow, I wonder what kinda spikers he has in his team. I mean, that one set yesterday when no one was even close to being that far into their approach yet? And the guy said it’s habit to him? Quick sets are one thing, but the hitter would’ve had to jump when the ball was still coming over the net to be able to spike that.”

Sakusa gives him a noncommittal hum. He’s about halfway done with his meal, and he seems dead set on finishing it as quickly as possible.

So ya don’t like talking, huh? That’s fine. Running his mouth is one of Atsumu’s greatest talents—second only to volleyball—so he does what he does best, and rattles on.

He tells Sakusa how Inarizaki dropped only one set during the Hyogo Spring High qualifiers. He then moves on to gushing over the Black Jackals vs. Red Falcons match in Osaka that he’ll go to with his family. This brings Atsumu to his love of traveling and exploring new places, which in turn leads him to a spiel of Hyogo’s best hiking trails.

Atsumu is currently recounting a story from last summer, when his family went hiking and Atsumu and Osamu decided to race to the top of the mountain. Osamu tried to take too ambitious a shortcut and ended up getting lost. Truly one of Atsumu's favorite stories.

He's halfway through the tale when he notices that Sakusa has finished his meal and is looking at him expectantly, so he gives a shortened version of the second half and concludes the story.

“I’m going to take a bath now,” Sakusa says as soon as Atsumu shuts his mouth, and stands up.

“Well, it was a pleasure having dinner with ya, Sakusa-kun” Atsumu grins. “See ya tomorrow!”

Sakusa hesitates for a second before muttering, “Yeah,” and fleeing the scene.

Atsumu’s grin turns self-congratulatory. He might still not have gotten that many words out of Sakusa, but at least he got Sakusa to listen to him. Not that Atsumu has any proof Sakusa was actually paying attention to anything Atsumu said, but he decides to be optimistic. Why ruin the moment?

Atsumu has barely touched his food since he was busy yapping. He considers joining some of the other boys to eat his dinner but, in all honesty, he doesn’t like any of them that much. They’re okay, but Atsumu knows them—and the girlfriend of one of them—well enough by now to know that he doesn’t really care for being friends with any of them. Maybe with the exception of Komori and Hoshiumi.

Sakusa’s the only one Atsumu doesn’t have figured out yet. He can’t really say he wants to be friends with Sakusa either. It's possible that once Atsumu gets to know him better, he’ll just find out that Sakusa’s as stuck up as his demeanor suggests. But for some reason Atsumu has a good feeling about him—he just has to get him out of his shell.

And Atsumu will get Sakusa out of his shell if it’s the last thing he does.

He makes quick work of his food and skips upstairs to his room. Satou isn’t there, and Atsumu can guess where he is instead and what he's doing. Atsumu kicks his shoes off and flops down on his bed. He needs to work on his science homework, but he needs a small break first.

He’s in a good mood, so he decides to do some charity work and help his brother with his hopeless love life.

To: suna
> heyyy sunarin (^ o ^)/

From: suna
> osamu’s not here, so if he’s ignoring u, i can’t do anything about it

To: suna
> he ain’t avoiding me!

From: suna
> then why r u texting me?

To: suna
> can’t i just want to know how my best friend is doing?

From: suna
> ew, am i ur best friend?

To: suna
> sunarin, you wound me
> anyway, it’s funny how you brought samu up
> don’t you think he’s been acting kinda weird lately?

From: suna
> wdym?

To: suna
> like maybe he has a crush on someone

It takes Suna longer than usual to reply.

From: suna
> why r u talking to me about this?
> and who do u think he has a crush on?

Atsumu huffs. Wouldn’t you like to know?

To: suna
> i think it’s someone in his class
> it’s pretty obvious who it is actually

From: suna
> i still don’t see what this has to do with me
> is this one ur pranks that only u find funny?

To: suna
> it’s just that samu’s being a coward about it
> i hope his crush asks him out so he can stop pining

From: suna
> i don’t think he’s pining after anyone

To: suna
> it makes sense that you wouldn’t

From: suna
> ur not making any sense as usual
> i’m gonna ignore u now

Atsumu groans and chucks his phone on the mattress next to him. It bounces to the floor, but Atsumu doesn’t bother picking it up. He’s dropped it enough times to know that it doesn’t break that easily.

Atsumu should just confront Osamu or Suna directly, but as obvious as he thinks it is that they like each other, a part of Atsumu is still afraid he’s reading the situation wrong. Because if the crush isn’t mutual, confronting them would be just like what his friends did when they thought Atsumu liked Aochi—and Atsumu knows better than anyone how much that had sucked.

Atsumu supposes it’s none of his business anyway, but no matter how much bad luck he jokes about wishing on Osamu, he still wants his brother to be happy. He’s heard that the best relationships start off as friendships.

Plus, if they got together, Atsumu wouldn’t have to endure their pining anymore. But what if they’re going to be one of those gross couples who are all over each other even in public?

Well, shit. Maybe there’s no winning in this situation.

Sighing, Atsumu drags himself off the bed and opens his science textbook. His assignments are about electromagnetism—not Atsumu’s favorite topic, but at least the attraction between charged particles makes sense.

The third day is all about setting, so it goes without saying that Atsumu’s having a great time. He’s the best at it, so the drills they’re doing are a breeze. He also wants to stay as the best at it, so he relishes every piece of advice he receives from the coaches—not that they need to give him many.

Atsumu would have an even better time if the liberos who outshone everyone at yesterday’s receive drills weren’t so damn good at setting too. Oh well, he’ll probably get to see them fumble during tomorrow’s spiking practice.

However, Sakusa doesn’t appear to be all that when it comes to setting, which serves to lighten Atsumu’s mood. He’s far from being bad at it, but his sets are very inconsistent. Most are fine, some are excellent even on Atsumu’s standards, but a few of them are way off. Like the one he gives Atsumu now.

They’re playing three-on-three games, and Atsumu’s been teamed up with Sakusa and Chigaya. Chigaya manages to dig Hoshiumi’s spike, and the ball goes to Sakusa. Atsumu jumps, but the toss drops short and the ball never reaches Atsumu’s hand. Atsumu manages to dink it over the net anyway, but it’s easily received on the other side, and Atsumu’s team loses the rally.

“Don’t mind, Sakusa-kun! Setting is a delicate art that takes time to master, but you’ll get the hang of it someday,” Atsumu smirks.

Sakusa levels Atsumu with a vexed look. “I don’t think a setter should be so smug about being better at setting than a wing spiker. Talk big after you outdo me at spiking tomorrow.”

“Oh, I will!” Atsumu grins. Is it wise to challenge one of the top three aces to a spike-off? No. Has reason ever stopped Atsumu from accepting a challenge before? Also no.

Sakusa doesn’t dignify Atsumu’s excessive confidence with a reply. He just snorts and shakes his head.

There are no regular practice matches after their three-on-three games, so training ends earlier than usual. Satou asks Atsumu if he can get the room for himself for half an hour. Atsumu has no desire whatsoever to know what Satou wants a moment of privacy for, but since he was only going to read his manga magazine anyway, he chooses to be a gracious roommate and takes his magazine to the lobby.

Atsumu settles into an armchair and starts reading, but he can’t quite focus on the story. He’s feeling weird. Setting was great, but spiking everyone else’s tosses felt weird. It’s not that Atsumu had a problem hitting them—most of them, anyway. But ever since he became a setter, his team’s emergency setter has always been the same person, and there’s just something so intuitive about spiking his sets. It’s probably the closest Atsumu will ever get to knowing what it’s like to hit his own tosses.

Atsumu hasn’t been thinking of Osamu that much after the first day, but suddenly he really wishes his twin was there with him. He sends a snarky text to Osamu, telling him how his sucky tosses would have benefited from today’s practice. Atsumu knows Osamu’s still in class, though, so he won’t be able to reply.

He carries on with trying to pay attention to what he's reading but is soon distracted by the sound of someone stepping out of their room. Atsumu hears steps approaching the lobby and looks up to find Sakusa standing there. Atsumu half expects him to turn away, but he sits down on a couch opposite to Atsumu and starts typing on his phone with an intense look on his face.

Atsumu really wants to say something to him, probably something teasing about his second-rate setting. But he figures Sakusa doesn’t want to be interrupted, and since he’s trying the whole ‘don’t be an inconsiderate ass’ thing, he stays silent.

He switches to an especially riveting story and gets absorbed in it. He’s almost forgotten about Sakusa’s presence in the room when he gets a feeling he’s being watched. He looks up to find Sakusa quickly averting his eyes from Atsumu.

Atsumu squints at him for a few seconds but goes back to his manga.

“Kageyama’s team beat Wakatoshi-kun.”

Atsumu snaps his head up. Did Sakusa just say something? He looks around to see if Sakusa’s maybe talking to someone else, but they’re the only ones in the lobby. Did Sakusa just say something to me?

“Huh?”

Sakusa frowns behind his mask, like he can’t quite believe he said something either.

“Karasuno, Kageyama’s team, beat Shiratorizawa, Ushijima Wakatoshi’s team, at the Miyagi Spring High qualifiers.”

Atsumu nods slowly, trying to figure out the context.

“Umm, okay.”

“You asked me about Kageyama yesterday,” Sakusa clarifies. “I haven’t watched the game tapes yet, but his team must be really good if they won against Shiratorizawa. Apparently Wakatoshi-kun was in perfect form, and someone on Karasuno managed to stuff him.”

“Ah, I see. Yer right. I think we played Shiratorizawa at my first Interhigh, and Ushijima’s spikes were nasty. He’s in the U19 National Team too, right?”

Sakusa nods. Atsumu realizes that this is the first time Sakusa’s ever held eye contact with him for more than three seconds. It’s surprisingly unsettling—both the realization and the eye contact.

“So yeah, I guess Tobio-kun’s team must be really good if they beat Shiratorizawa. And ya said someone stuffed some of Ushiwaka’s spikes?”

Sakusa nods again, this time with more enthusiasm.

“I mean, there are no spikes that can’t be blocked, but it’s still pretty impressive. Do ya think the guy who stuffed Ushijima is the same one to who Tobio-kun gives those crazy sets?”

“I don’t know.”

After a beat, Sakusa adds, “But that would make sense, yes. I’ll need to get my hands on the game tapes as soon as I can.”

“Why are ya so interested in Miyagi’s qualifiers? Ya don’t actually follow every single prefecture’s tournaments, do ya?” To be honest, Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Sakusa frowns and hunches his shoulders at Atsumu’s question, almost like he’s putting his guard up.

“It’s not Miyagi I’m interested in, per se. I just like to keep up with how Wakatoshi-kun’s doing,” he replies warily.

“I see. Ya know, ya seem kinda fixated on Ushijima,“ Atsumu remarks.

Sakusa narrows his eyes at Atsumu. He looks like he’s preparing for an argument.

“I just like to know as much as I can about strong opponents.”

Atsumu crosses his arms petulantly. “And yet ya refuse to talk to me! Shouldn’t ya be trying to learn my ins and outs instead of avoiding me all the time?”

Sakusa seems to relax a little bit, looking relieved. Atsumu wonders what was up with that.

“You’re a pretty simple person, Miya. I already figured you out this summer,” Sakusa jibes.

“Excuse me? There's so much more to than you know. I’ve got layers like an onion. Like, a really cool and mysterious onion.”

Sakusa looks almost disgusted by Atsumu’s metaphor. Then his demeanor shifts into something a bit more sincere. “Besides, I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

Atsumu cocks his head, looking at Sakusa curiously. He hadn’t expected Sakusa to get so genuine all of a sudden. “I suppose ya are.”

Atsumu takes in Sakusa’s appearance for the first time since he stepped into the lobby. He’s wearing his tracksuit jacket and volleyball shorts, with running leggings underneath.

“Ya going somewhere?”

“On a run.” Sakusa’s reply is cautious, like he’s not sure if he should give up the information.

“Is that allowed?”

“This isn’t a prison, Miya. We’re allowed to use our free time however we like.”

“Lemme come with ya! I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get any fresh air this whole week.”

Sakusa groans like he’s realized that he definitely shouldn’t have given up the information.

“Then just go on a run on your own. You don’t have to come with me.”

“But isn’t it much more fun running together with someone?” Atsumu gives Sakusa his best puppy eyes.

“No.”

“Well, I need a local guide! What if I get lost in the busy streets of Tokyo?”

“I don’t see how that would affect my life.”

“Yer so cold, Sakusa-kun!” Atsumu whines.

Sakusa grits his teeth, then gives a resigned sigh. “You’d better not slow me down. Go get changed, but if you’re not back in three minutes, I’m leaving without you.”

Atsumu beams at him. “Yer gonna have the most intense run of yer life, I’m telling ya. I’ll be right back!”

He scurries back to his room. It’s been over 30 minutes since he was exiled, so he should be good to go back in. He knocks anyway—there’s no way he’s risking walking in on whatever might have been going on in there.

Satou answers the door and everything seems normal, so Atsumu ducks in and gets changed into gear similar to what Sakusa was wearing. He tells Satou he’ll have the room for himself for another hour and rushes back to the lobby, where Sakusa has gone back to texting. Atsumu wouldn’t have been surprised if he had left without him even before the three-minute mark.

Sakusa looks up at him and gets up, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Who are ya texting? Ya looked like yer filing an official report,” Atsumu says as he follows Sakusa downstairs.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I know, I know. Just making conversation here, Sakusa-kun.”

“We’re going on a run. There’s no need for conversation.”

They make it outside. The sun is still up, though it’s covered by clouds. It’s chilly enough that their breath fogs as they step onto the street, but it’s not unpleasantly cold.

Sakusa pockets his face mask, then takes off without a word, Atsumu falling into step with him. He figures Sakusa is starting off at a slower pace to get warmed up, but he just can’t resist poking at him. 

“Ya were worried about me slowing ya down, but if we go any slower, we’d just be walking.” Atsumu remembers a beat too late that he's supposed to act nice. Something about talking to Sakusa just makes it easy to forget to think before speaking.

“You would be the type to immediately go all in and tear a ligament, wouldn’t you?” Sakusa chides.

Atsumu has to fall back for a moment to give way to another pedestrian.

“Nuh-uh, I’m actually very diligent when it comes to warming up and cooling down properly.”

Sakusa soon picks up his pace, Atsumu keeping up with ease.

“So, it looked like some people really needed today’s setting practice,” Atsumu smirks.

Sakusa gives him the side-eye but doesn't take the bait.

“What, yer too out of breath to speak already?” Atsumu taunts.

“Like I said, there’s no need for conversation on a run.”

“Aww, so ya do get too breathless to speak? That’s alright. How about listening, though?”

Sakusa looks like he’s regretting bringing Atsumu along.

“It might be fine if it wasn’t you I have to listen to. From now on, I’m going to assume every word you say is an indication that we’re not going fast enough since you can still run your mouth.”

“Ya can hardly blame me! Yer such a pleasant person to talk to.”

Sakusa makes good on his promise and pointedly quickens his steps. Atsumu chuckles and picks up his speed too.

They run in silence for a while. Daylight is slowly dying out as the sun makes its way behind the horizon.

Sakusa leads them to a park, where they run a loop. Sakusa is about to head back to where they came from when Atsumu stops.

“Wait!”

Sakusa comes to a halt slowly, as if he has to talk himself into it. He turns around with a ticked off expression.

“Did you finally reach your limit?”

“Ya wish,” Atsumu grins.

He points at the park over his shoulder. “Let’s run that lap again, but this time I’ll race ya.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Ya chickening out, Sakusa-kun? Don’t think ya can beat me?” Atsumu goads.

“I don’t need to prove myself to you. I’m not racing you, because I don’t want to.”

“If yer that tired, I guess ya can catch yer breath while I run an extra lap.” Atsumu starts backing away, challenging Sakusa with his eyes to follow.

“You run the extra lap, and I’ll get going back to the training center. Good luck finding your way back on your own.”

“I knew ya were heartless. Oh well, I’ll just follow the same route we came here,” Atsumu shrugs and turns around, taking off into the park.

He doesn’t make it far before he hears footsteps behind him.

Sakusa falls into step with Atsumu for a few seconds. “I suppose I might as well put you into your place since it looks like I won’t even have to put much effort into it.” Then he bolts.

Atsumu huffs out a laugh and dashes after him. He quickly catches up to Sakusa, though as soon as he reaches his side, Sakusa pulls up ahead again. Sakusa is fast, Atsumu will give him that, but Atsumu has a lifetime of experience racing Osamu, so he’s not that easily beaten.

They stay neck and neck for the entire lap. Whenever one of them manages to pull ahead, the other one finds a bit more strength in his legs to retake the lead.

They clear the final turn, and Atsumu gathers all his remaining energy for a final spurt, but he’s still not able to shake his opponent off. Sakusa is perhaps half a step ahead when they make it out of the park, both doubling over in the middle of the sidewalk.

“That’s pretty embarrassing, Miya,” Sakusa pants. “You even had a head start.”

“We never agreed on the finish line. I was—” Atsumu has to catch his breath for a second. “I was the first one at the point where we started.”

“That’s not true, I was in the lead there too.” Sakusa stands up straight but is still breathing heavily.

“No ya weren’t. At best ya were right next to me.”

“What, so you want to call it a tie?” Sakusa scoffs.

“Hell, no! Ties are for thin-skinned scrubs who can’t take a loss.”

“Well, that’s exactly what you sound like, not admitting defeat.”

Atsumu straightens himself too. “Ugh, fine. I’ll give ya this round. But next time I’m gonna leave ya in the dust.”

“Trust me, there won’t be a next time.” Sakusa starts jogging back toward the training center, noticeably slower than on their way to the park.

The burn in Atsumu’s legs is bad enough that he doesn’t even think about poking fun at Sakusa’s pace this time.

“So it’s a win by default for me, then? Kinda boring, but a win is a win, I suppose.”

“It’s the only kind of win you’ll ever get.”

“Ya keep telling yerself that, Sakusa-kun. I’m gonna get a very official win over you at the Spring High,” Atsumu says and picks up his speed a little bit just to spite Sakusa.

Sakusa snorts but matches Atsumu’s pace. They finish their run in silence, the kind that Atsumu could almost call comfortable.

Atsumu thanks Sakusa after they climb the stairs up to their dorms. Sakusa just gives him a curt nod and disappears into his room.

Atsumu does a short cool-down routine in the lobby. He still has some time before dinner, so he grabs his shower kit from his room and takes a bath before heading down to eat.

Sakusa had tolerated Atsumu during yesterday’s dinner, but Atsumu thought it best not to bother him at today’s lunch. However, he feels like he was more than just tolerated during their run and the short chat leading up to it. Granted, the difference in Sakusa’s attitude toward Atsumu was so small that Atsumu might have imagined it, but he decides to test his luck.

Komori is having his dinner with Sakusa this time, and he looks at Sakusa amusedly when Atsumu plops down next to him.

“Sakusa-kun! Komori-kun!”

“Mind if I join ya?” he adds, remembering his promise to ask for permission to sit down a tad too late.

“Most people would ask that before they sit down,” Sakusa sighs.

“Well, I’ll do that next time,” Atsumu winks.

“Don’t listen to that grump, Atsumu-kun,” Komori chuckles.

“He never does,” Sakusa mutters, which his cousin ignores.

“I heard you two went on a run together,” Komori says.

“Yes, it was very kind of Sakusa-kun to take me with him. I just hope my pace didn’t leave him on his last legs.”

“He did look pretty drained when he came back,” Komori quips.

Sakusa gives him a glare. “I was not drained.”

“He always complains that I hold him back when I accompany him on a run,” Komori explains to Atsumu. “I’m sure he was glad to go on a run with someone who could match his speed. Right, Kiyo?” Komori grins.

“Sure, he was an improvement compared to you, Motoya, but he was still barely keeping up.”

“Hey! That ain’t true!” Atsumu protests. “I almost beat you in our race.”

“A race? Kiyoomi didn’t mention a race.”

Atsumu begins recounting the events of their run, and they fall into easy conversation—Atsumu and Komori, that is. Sakusa contributes mostly by shaking his head, sighing, and rolling rolling his eyes. And by making snarky remarks, of course.

It seems Atsumu's meals get better each day.

Day four of camp arrives with spiking practice and the consequences of Atsumu’s actions. As expected, Atsumu’s shouldn’t have vowed to beat one of the best aces in the country at spiking. But what was he supposed to do—not accept a challenge? He couldn’t do that.

So now he to watch Sakusa’s annoyingly smug face as it becomes more and more evident that Atsumu’s gloating about outdoing Sakusa was all talk.

After their practice games, Atsumu finally tells Kageyama what’s been on his mind for the entire camp. He swears it’s all in good faith, but for some reason Kageyama looks genuinely troubled when Atsumu calls him a goody-two-shoes. Atsumu doesn’t get any sympathy when he mentions this to Sakusa and Komori, the former of whom just levels him with an unimpressed look, and the latter cackles into his sleeve.

Atsumu rarely joins the other camp attendees’ tables anymore, opting to eat most of his meals with Sakusa and Komori instead. Most of their table talk is still dialogue between Atsumu and Komori—or Atsumu’s monologue whenever Komori feels like eating with the others—but Sakusa seems to, slowly but surely, get out of his shell too, and it can’t be entirely in Atsumu’s imagination.

Komori turns out to be an excellent source of information on Sakusa. Atsumu learns that in addition to volleyball, Sakusa is into photography and movies. His favorite food is umeboshi and he has two siblings, though they’re both much older than Sakusa. He isn’t a morning person like Atsumu had assumed, but prefers to sleep as long as he can in the morning to maximize the amount of sleep he gets.

Sakusa looks mortified every time Komori reveals something new, but Komori doesn’t let that stop him. If anything, it seems to encourage him to keep spilling Sakusa’s secrets. The most important thing Atsumu learns about Komori himself is that he can be quite the menace when he feels like it.

The second to last day comes about sooner than Atsumu expected—possibly sooner than he wanted it to. Their final theme is serving, and so it’s only natural for Atsumu to challenge Sakusa to see which one can get more service aces during the day. Sakusa doesn’t accept the challenge, but Atsumu starts keeping score in his head anyway. When the score is 4-1 in Sakusa’s favor, he turns to Atsumu.

“You’re falling behind, Miya. You seem to be all bark and no bite, again. Not that I’m surprised.”

“I see how it is, Sakusa-kun. Ya were afraid to lose so ya turned down the challenge, but now that yer winning, ya have no qualms about competing,” Atsumu huffs. “But there ain’t backing away now, and I’m just getting warmed up, so ya better get ready to be crushed.”

In the end, Atsumu manages to squeeze out a win by two points.

“Some of your serves weren’t even that good. The receivers just messed up,” Sakusa grumbles as they sit down for dinner and Atsumu gloats about his win for the eight time since their practice ended. Which was an hour ago.

“Now look who’s being a sore loser,” Atsumu teases.

“I’m not being a sore loser. I admit that you won fair and square. I’m just saying that if the winner had been decided based on the quality of the service aces instead of the number of them, I would’ve won.”

“Are ya saying ya wanna call it a tie?” Atsumu raises his eyebrows at Sakusa.

Sakusa scowls. “No.” Then, smirking, he adds “Ties are for thin-skinned people who can’t handle a loss, after all.”

“Wow, such wise words. Whoever yer quoting must be real smart.”

Sakusa looks at Atsumu like he’s hopeless and breaks his chopsticks. Atsumu does the same, starting to slurp his noodles.

“Ya know, I’m glad ya decided to get serious after slacking off for the first days. Playing against the Sakusa that was afraid to move his arm all week woulda been boring.”

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little bit?”

“Me? Exaggerating? I would never.” Atsumu dramatically puts his hand on his chest, acting wounded.

Sakusa starts to say something, then frowns and pauses, as if to really think about his words, or maybe to convince himself to say them. “Besides, are you really one to talk? It might not have been on the court, but you’ve been holding back, too, haven’t you?”

Atsumu furrows his brows. “The hell do ya mean? I haven’t been holding back.”

“At the Interhigh, you were constantly yelling at your brother. I assume he brings out the worst in you, but it wasn’t just with him. You never shied away from pointing out whenever someone screwed up, sometimes even when that someone was an opponent. And whenever you made a mistake yourself, you were so overly dramatic about it.

“Even off the court, you were always shouting and bickering with someone. You’ve been much quieter here. Just overall more sensible—almost like a normal person. So, it feels like you’re holding back from being your usual self.”

Sakusa seems to suddenly become self-conscious of what he’s saying.

“Uh, I mean... What I mean is that no one can possibly become so much more mature in such a short time. Especially not you. I doubt a lifetime will be enough for you. So, it has to be an act.”

Atsumu doesn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected a full-on behavioral analysis from Sakusa.

He shakes himself out of his daze. “First of all, I’m actually very mature for my age,” he says, puffing his chest.

“But also, so what if it’s an act? Ain’tcha supposed to fake it ‘til ya make it?” Atsumu hopes he sounds casual.

“And what exactly are you trying to make it as?”

This time it’s Atsumu who has to avert his eyes from Sakusa.

He shrugs. “I dunno, someone who doesn’t immediately get off on the wrong foot with everyone?”

Sakusa doesn’t say anything, so Atsumu looks back at him. There’s a contemplative look on Sakusa’s face, but Atsumu can’t quite decipher what it means.

“I didn’t peg you as the type of person who cares about what others think of them,” Sakusa finally says.

“I didn’t used to, but it turns out no one has any taste, so I figured I’d try out something new, ya know?”

The way Sakusa’s regarding him with those almost black eyes of his tells Atsumu that Sakusa’s not buying his act of indifference. Atsumu’s afraid he’s going to accidentally spill his heart out to Sakusa and make an absolute fool of himself any moment now. He really needs to change the topic of this conversation before that happens.

“Anyway, ya sure seem to have paid a lotta attention to me. Trying to learn my ins and outs, after all, Omi-kun?” he grins.

Sakusa almost drops his chopsticks and glowers at Atsumu in disbelief.

“Oops, did I let that slip?” Atsumu says, feigning innocence.

“What did you just call me?” Sakusa demands.

“Omi-kun,” Atsumu grins. “It’s cute, ain’t it?”

“No, it’s not. Never call me that again.”

“Ya sure? Sakusa feels so impersonal, especially with Komori calling ya Kiyoomi all the time. But Kiyoomi’s such a mouthful. Omi’s a great nickname, if ya ask me.”

Sakusa’s eyes are full of irritation. “I’m not asking you. Don’t call me that.”

“I dunno, I think it suits ya.”

“Miya.”

“Omi-kun.”

“Miya.”

Atsumu cackles. “Alright, alright. But ya should call me Atsumu. I don’t like it when people call me by my family name. It makes me think they don’t know if they’re talking to me or Samu.”

“Don’t worry, I’d never insult your brother by thinking he was you.”

“Hey! I’m the one who’d be offended if someone thought I was Samu. Samu should be flattered if someone mistook him for someone as talented and good-looking as me.”

Atsumu starts telling Sakusa the story of how he and Osamu decided to dye their hair after their teachers kept confusing them with each other. After a few minutes, Komori comes by their table.

“Hey, I talked with some of the other guys and we’re thinking of hanging out in one of the lobbies tonight. We could go get some snacks from the konbini down the street, maybe play some card games. In honor of the last day, you know?”

Sakusa opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a word out before Komori cuts him off with a raised hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re not coming. But you should join us, Atsumu-kun!”

Atsumu thinks it would be fun to spend some time together before they go their separate ways tomorrow, but should he be chivalrous and offer to hang out with Sakusa instead so that he doesn’t have to be alone? He takes a glance at Sakusa, but he doesn’t seem upset about the prospect of the others hanging out with him.

“Sure, I’ll come! But Sakusa-kun, are ya—"

“I’m not going, Miya,” Sakusa says in a tone that leaves no room for negotiation.

Atsumu and Komori trade a look and huff out a synchronized laugh.

After finishing their dinner and climbing upstairs, Sakusa disappears into his room. Atsumu and Komori join the others already gathered up in the lobby. In addition to Sakusa, it seems that Kageyama and Hamano are also not joining in.

After discussing the important logistics of snack shopping, Atsumu and Komori volunteer to go to the konbini on everyone’s behalf. Everyone contributes to the shopping funds with a few hundred yen, and after getting their jackets, Atsumu and Komori head outside.

They make their way down the street, the darkness of the evening lit by streetlamps. The temperature has dropped steadily during the week, and Atsumu has to bury himself deeper into his coat to stay warm.

“You know, it’s pretty impressive that you got Kiyoomi to talk to you as much as he has. I’m pretty sure he came here with the full intention of not uttering a word to anyone but me,” Komori chuckles, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Well, I am a pretty impressive guy,” Atsumu crows. “Though, in all honesty, I didn’t really do much except bother him until he realized I ain’t going anywhere and he might as well take the piss outta me if he has to talk to me anyway.”

Komori barks a laugh. “Yeah, Kiyoomi doesn’t spare his words with people. But that means he tends to give a bad first impression to anyone who approaches him. Usually people don’t bother trying again, so the fact that you kept talking to him is already more than what most people do.”

Atsumu hums noncommittally. He wonders if that’s what Sakusa expression had meant when Atsumu talked about getting off on the wrong foot with people. If at that moment Sakusa could relate to Atsumu.

They get to the konbini and make their way to the snacks. Komori throws a couple bags of candy into the basket Atsumu grabbed.

“I just wonder why you insisted on trying with Kiyoomi, even though he was such a jerk at first?” Komori's eyeing Atsumu curiously.

“Oh, it just kinda pissed me off that he refused to talk to me, so I decided that I’d get him to talk to me one way or another,” Atsumu says matter-of-factly and picks out a few bags of chips.

“Fair enough,” Komori cackles. He gestures at the basket. “Have we used up our budget?”

“I think so.” Atsumu chucks a few chocolate bars in for good measure.

They pay for their snacks and start back toward the training center.

“For what it’s worth, I’m happy you kept pestering Kiyoomi the way you did. I think Kiyoomi came to appreciate it too, though he’d never admit it,” Komori smiles at the sky, the light of the streetlamps glinting in his eyes. “With his bluntness and shyness, I’m pretty much the only friend he has, so it’s been nice to see him open up to someone else.”

Atsumu hides his smile in his collar. “Wow, I didn’t know ya were so sappy, Komori-kun. It’s hard to believe ya and Sakusa are related. Hearing ya talk like that would probably make him sick.”

Komori’s smile drops.

“Which is why he’ll never hear of this, right? He’d strangle me. Well, he wouldn’t strangle me. But he’d poison my water, or something.”

“That’s what I was saying!”

Komori gives Atsumu a confused side-eye.

Atsumu clears his throat. “But yeah, yeah. I won’t say a word.”

“Unless ya give me a reason to, of course,” he adds menacingly as he opens the door for Komori. He knows Komori well enough by now to know that it doesn’t hurt to have something to hold against him.

“Damn, I see how it is.”

Everyone seems content with the snacks Atsumu and Komori selected. They chat in smaller groups for a bit, eventually gathering around the coffee table to play some card games. Satou suggests they play a few rounds of his girlfriend’s favorite card game, which ends up being fun enough. Then Kondo teaches them a game so complicated Atsumu never gets the hang of it—and by the looks of it, no one else does either. To no one’s surprise, Kondo emerges as the winner.

They finish the night with probably the longest game of slapjack in the history of the world. It doesn’t take too long to narrow the competition down to just two participants, but Atsumu and Hoshiumi are too close a match for each other. Some of the other boys have gone to bed by the time Hoshiumi finally runs out of cards. Atsumu hoots triumphantly whereas Hoshiumi curses and slams his fists on the table.

“Damn you, Miya Atsumu!” Hoshiumi stands up and points at Atsumu. “I want a rematch!”

“Hell, no!” Oguchi groans from where he’s slumped on the couch. “You’ll be here until morning if no one stops you, and you’re so loud when you play that no one else will get any sleep, either.”

“Tough luck, Korai-kun,” Atsumu grins. “Maybe next time, but tonight I’m the slapjack champion.”

On the last day, they play a couple more practice matches before wrapping up the camp. Kageyama asks Atsumu what he meant when he called him goody-two-shoes. The poor guy looks like he’s having a proper crisis about it. Truth hurts, Atsumu supposes.

After the coaches’ ending words, Sakusa changes his clothes in record-time and rushes off. Atsumu squints after him—he’s not planning on leaving without saying goodbye, is he?

Atsumu quickly gets changed too and hurries after Sakusa and Komori. He catches them just outside the building. Leaving without saying goodbye is exactly what Sakusa seems to have had in mind.

“Sakusa-kun! Wait!” Atsumu jogs to catch up to them. “Gimme yer number.”

“No,” Sakusa says, stopping but not turning around to look at Atsumu.

“Whaddya mean no?”

“You’re the type of person who’d spam me with messages all the time. So, no.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” Atsumu pleads.

“No.”

Atsumu turns to speak to Komori, but Sakusa beats him to it.

“Motoya, don’t you dare give him my number,” he hisses.

“Oh, I would never. But surely I can give him my number?”

“No. If you do that, he’ll spam you with messages begging you to give him my number. And you’re weak. You’d cave instantly.”

“Sorry, Atsumu-kun. No can do,” Komori shrugs, amused.

“Oh, c’mon, Sakusa-kun. I promise—”

“See you nationals, Miya,” Sakusa deadpans, and starts walking away. Komori gives Atsumu an apologetic look and follows his cousin.

“Ya better get ready to be destroyed, then!” Atsumu yells after them. “We’re gonna get our revenge and kick yer asses!”

Sakusa mutters something that Atsumu can’t make up to Komori, who tips his head back to laugh and waves one more time at Atsumu before they round the corner and disappear from Atsumu’s sight.

Atsumu stuffs his hands in his pockets and gets going to the train station. He can’t believe Sakusa refused to give him his number. He won’t lie and say he’s not at least a little bit bummed about it. But then again, Sakusa had also refused to talk to Atsumu at first.

Atsumu can’t help but smile to himself. Mission Get Sakusa to Talk was a success. It appears it’s time for mission Get Sakusa’s Phone Number.

Oh, and of course mission Crush Itachiyama at the Spring High.

Chapter Text

Atsumu’s whole family is there to pick him up when he returns to Akashi.

His mom envelops him in a bear hug as soon as he steps within arm's reach of her. “Welcome home, dear!”

His dad throws his arm around Atsumu’s shoulder next, squeezing him tightly and ruffling his hair. “Yer presence’s been sorely missed.”

Atsumu wrestles himself out of his dad’s hold and smooths his hair out. “Yeah, yeah, I missed ya too.”

Osamu doesn’t reach out for a hug, keeping his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Just so ya know, I didn’t wanna be here. I woulda stayed home if I hadn’t been dragged out here against my will.”

“But that’s only ‘cause ya wanted keep fine-tuning the kombu dashi to make sure Atsumu’s welcome home dinner is perfect,” their dad says, ruffling Osamu’s hair in turn.

“Aww, ya didn’t have to do that,” Atsumu coos, throwing his arm around Osamu’s shoulders as they start walking to the car.

Osamu shrugs Atsumu’s arm off. “The dinner ain’t for ya. It’s a consolation meal for me since I hafta deal with ya again.”

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at Osamu. “Well, I also need consolation for having to deal with ya again.”

“Ah, seems like things are back to normal,” their dad chuckles.

“Yeah,” their mom smiles. “We can finally drag the guest futon outta our bedroom now that Osamu doesn’t have to be scared of sleeping in yer room alone.”

“The hell, Ma?” Osamu looks outraged. He turns to Atsumu. ”I was not afraid.”

“It’s okay Samu, nothing to be embarrassed about.” Atsumu pats his brother on the back reassuringly. “And no need to be scared anymore. I can even read ya a bedtime story tonight.”

Osamu kicks the back of Atsumu’s knees, sending him stumbling forward. Once Atsumu regains his balance, he retaliates by taking one of his mittens out of his pocket and smacking Osamu in the face with it.

“Alright, boys.” Their dad comes between them, throwing an arm around each twin. “Can’t ya at least ease us into living with the both of ya again?” he scolds, but his tone is fond.

“Sorry,” Atsumu and Osamu apologize in unison.

They settle into their usual seats in the car, Atsumu behind the driver’s seat and Osamu on the left side of the backseat.

“So ya made it out alive, huh?” Osamu says as their mom pulls out of the parking lot. “Ya didn’t get on Sakusa’s nerves so bad he poisoned ya?”

“Of course not! I told ya I’d be best buds with Sakusa by the end of the week.”

“Ya made new friends at the camp?” their dad asks from the passenger seat.

“That’s what he claims. Apparently, he’s now best friends with Sakusa Kiyoomi, the ace of the team we lost to at the Interhigh.”

“How come ya never mentioned him when we talked on the phone during the week?”

“Probably ‘cause he’s not actually friends with him.”

“Yes I am!”

“Pfft, there’s no way someone like Sakusa would tolerate yer obnoxious ass.”

“Now, now, Osamu,” their mom chides gently. “Atsumu, I’m glad to hear you’ve made new friends. Did this Sakusa’s team also qualify for the Spring Tournament?”

“Of course. Itachiyama’s the favorite to win it all again. But we’re gonna be the champions this time. Right, Samu?”

“Naturally.”

When they get home, the smell of his family’s cooking is so appetizing that Atsumu has to drag himself upstairs to take a shower instead of going to the kitchen and stuffing his face straight from the pots and pans.

By the time Atsumu has showered and comes back downstairs, his family has set the dinner table. If the smell alone hadn’t been enough to make Atsumu’s mouth water, the sight of all the food spread across the table surely would’ve done it.

His dad has made his specialty dish, akashiyaki, which is paired with the kombu broth Osamu apparently had to abandon in favor of picking Atsumu up from the train station. Atsumu bets he’ll have to listen to Osamu complain how the broth would’ve been better if he’d been allowed to stay home and refine it a little bit more.

There are also some roasted vegetables, sautéed mushrooms, and a spinach salad—most likely courtesy of his mom.

The last thing Osamu carries out of the kitchen is a plate of onigiri.

“Those better have fatty tuna in ‘em,” Atsumu says as he sits down.

“Yer such an ungrateful brat,” Osamu says and swats at Atsumu’s hand trying to grab an onigiri before Osamu has even set the plate down. “Fatty tuna or not, ya should be thankful ya get to eat my cooking in the first place.”

“Forgive my impudence, high and mighty chef Osamu. Would ya please be so kind as to allow me the honor of eating yer sacred onigiri?”

Osamu responds with a smack over Atsumu’s head.

“Well, since yer asking so nicely...” Osamu muses as he sits down. “No.”

“Fine.”

Atsumu blows a raspberry at his twin and pretends to reach out for the basket of akashiyaki, but quickly snags an onigiri instead. Osamu tries to grab Atsumu’s hand, but Atsumu is a hair faster and manages to stuff half of the onigiri into his mouth.

Osamu looks at their parents flatly. “And ya actually missed this idiot.”

Their parents just chuckle at the scene in front of them and start piling food onto their plates.

Atsumu sighs happily as the taste of fatty tuna, which the onigiri are indeed filled with, fills his mouth. “Wow, the taste of these almost makes up for yer tyrannical personality.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m working towards something so good it’ll make ya speechless, so I don’t hafta listen to ya running yer mouth.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Atsumu grins and devours the rest of the onigiri.

Jokes aside, Atsumu really should consider himself lucky to get to eat food prepared by his brother on a regular basis. Atsumu’s not half bad at cooking himself—both their parents are enthusiastic home chefs, so they introduced the twins to the kitchen at a young age too.

But Osamu has a spark for it. Not only does he make delicious food, but he also really enjoys cooking. Though those probably go hand in hand—Atsumu doubts anyone could put so much time and effort into figuring out the perfect egg-to-flour ratio or the best temperature for deep frying tempura, if they didn’t savor the process in addition to the products.

All the Miyas love cooking, but Osamu could probably make a career out of it.

“So, tell us more about what ya learned at the camp,” their mom says. “Didja learn some new supercool setting move?”

“I already knew all the super cool setting moves before the camp,” Atsumu replies, puffing out his chest, but launches into an animated report of all the drills and exercises they did during the camp.

As he recounts the week’s events, Atsumu realizes he’s a little sad that the camp is over. By the end of the week, he had mostly forgotten the sting of having to attend without Osamu, so he was able to focus on the joy of playing volleyball with and against players as motivated and almost as talented as he is. With the time he got to spend with those players off the court too, the camp was a welcome change of pace to his normal life, and he can’t help but miss it.

But it is also great to be back home. Seeing all the familiar landmarks of Akashi on the drive home, eating all his comfort foods cooked by his family, even bickering with Osamu—Atsumu missed all those things, too.

He hopes he can get a spot in a team not too far from Hyogo. MSBY Black Jackals or Tachibana Red Falcons in Osaka, or Japan Railway Warriors in Sakai would be obvious choices, but DESEO Hornets in Nagoya wouldn’t be too bad either. Atsumu loves exploring new places, but he wants to stay close enough to have the option of returning to the safe familiarity of his home whenever needs to.

Although, depending on where Osamu ends up, it might not be so unambiguous where that home is.

When Atsumu returns to school and volleyball practice with his own team, he’s in a great mood. There is something exhilarating about the last month leading up to a tournament.

It’s evident that none of his teammates were slacking off while he was at camp. Riseki’s serves have improved a lot considering it’s been only a little over a week since Atsumu last saw them. Akagi seems more aware of his surroundings on the court. The spikers look like they’re putting more thought into the way they hit Atsumu’s sets.

And of course, Atsumu himself isn’t the same player he was a week ago. There might not be any obvious differences since he was so good even before the camp, but he feels more confident with the tips and tricks he learned there. He can’t wait to show off his improved skills at the Spring High.

Getting to play volleyball isn’t the only reason Atsumu is looking forward to the Spring High. He’s excited to see Sakusa, who is the other reason for Atsumu’s good mood. Not only is Atsumu smug about beating the challenge—self-assigned or not—of getting Sakusa to talk to him, he also feels like he might have just made his first ever friend that has nothing to do with Osamu.

Too bad none of the friends that Atsumu made through Osamu believe that Atsumu made Sakusa’s acquaintance.

As usual, Osamu is the instigator of Atsumu’s agony.

“Didja know Tsumu’s apparently best friends with Sakusa Kiyoomi now?” he says one day at lunch, ignoring the dirty glare Atsumu shoots him.

“Sakusa? You mean Sakusa Kiyoomi, the guy who showed approximately five emotions during the Interhigh finals and four of those were variations of discontent? Friends with Miya Atsumu, possibly the most irritating guy in Japan?” Suna raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, there’s no way.”

“I mean, it’d kinda make sense, no? Atsumu’s kinda weird, and Sakusa seemed extremely weird too.” Ginjima ponders.

“Are ya kidding?” Kosaku scoffs. “Sakusa seemed like the last person to tolerate someone like Atsumu.”

“Umm, excuse me?” Atsumu interrupts. “Can ya stop insulting me like I’m not sitting right here?”

“We’re just stating facts,” Suna shrugs.

“Well, you’re all wrong. He let me talk to him many times.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that ya talked to him,” Osamu huffs. “Ya have a great talent of talking to people who want nothing to do with ya. But I ain’t buying he said anything back to ya.”

“Don’t, then. Doesn’t change the fact that he did. We had some great conversations, actually.”

No one looks convinced.

“Fine, I’ll admit that we’re not best friends yet. But definitely friends! He’s a better friend than any of you shitheads, at least. Not that it takes much.”

“Send him a text, then. We’ll be the judge of whether you’re friends or not based on his reply,” Suna suggests.

Atsumu frowns. “No. I don’t gotta prove anything to ya.”

“What, ya scared he’s not gonna even reply to ya?” Ginjima teases.

“Nah, I think Sakusa would reply, but only to say something really mean,” Kosaku muses.

“I ain’t scared! But... I can’t just text him all of a sudden,” Atsumu says, though it’s obviously an excuse. Curse Sakusa and his refusal to give Atsumu his number.

“Why the hell not? Shouldn’t friends be able to text each other whenever?” Suna has a gleam in his eyes that lets Atsumu know he’s enjoying this way too much.

Atsumu pokes at his tofu with his chopsticks. “Well, yeah. I just don’t have his number,” he mutters.

There’s a second of silence before everyone bursts into laughter.

“Uh-huh. You’re saying you’re friends but you don’t even have his number?” Suna smirks.

“Seriously, what kinda friends don’t have each other’s numbers?”

“I bet Atsumu gave Sakusa his number, but Sakusa never texted him,” Ginjima snickers.

“Shut up!” Atsumu tips his head back in frustration. He knows they’re just messing around, but a little faith in him would be nice. “Alright, maybe we’re not even friends yet. But we will be! It’s simply gonna take some time.”

“It’s good to have dreams, I guess,” Kosaku says, patting Atsumu’s back. Atsumu swats his hand away.

“Why are you so dead set on befriending Sakusa anyway?” There’s a hint of curiosity beneath Suna’s indifferent demeanor, which immediately puts Atsumu on edge. Osamu also leans forward slightly, anticipating Atsumu's answer.

“That’s a fair question,” Ginjima nods. “Sakusa might be the unfriendliest person I’ve ever played against.”

“Ya only say that ‘cause ya don’t know him. He ain’t that bad once he warms up to ya.”

“And did he warm up to ya, or didja just harass him so much he decided it’s easier to pretend to tolerate ya during the camp and hope he never sees ya again?”

“I didn’t harass him!” Atsumu crosses his arms defiantly. “I was just determined.”

“I told him not to plague Sakusa because the dude seems like he might actually murder someone,” Osamu says. “But apparently, Tsumu once again didn’t listen to sound advice.”

Atsumu crumples his napkin into a ball and throws it at Osamu, but it’s too light to make it across the table and drifts into Ginjima’s bowl of ramen instead.

“Oi!” Ginjima yelps and hurriedly fishes the now soggy ball of paper out.

Atsumu ignores Ginjima and pointedly resumes eating his lunch. “Ya know, ya could just be happy for me for making new friends,” he sniffs dramatically.

The smallest grimace flashes on Osamu’s face at Atsumu’s comment. It’s gone in an instant, though—Atsumu probably would’ve missed it if he didn’t know Osamu so well.

“Oh, I’d be thrilled if ya made new friends,” Osamu drawls. “That’d mean ya didn’t bother us as often. Sakusa just seems like the last person you’d become friends with.”

“That’s what ya keep saying,” Atsumu says with a mouth full of rice. He swallows the food down and points at his teammates around him. “But just ya wait ‘til the Spring High. I’m gonna prove y’all wrong.”

The last weeks of 2012 go by quickly. Atsumu’s friends ease up on teasing him about his unconvincing acquaintance with Sakusa. Apparently, they’ve decided to wait until the Spring High so that Atsumu can prove Sakusa more than just tolerates him—and make a fool of himself in the process, since they believe Atsumu will only receive the cold shoulder from Sakusa.

The year changing means it’s time for the annual visit to the shrine in Kobe. Atsumu has gone to the shrine every New Year since he was born. When he and Osamu turned twelve, their parents offered them the option to stay home. Atsumu isn’t a particularly religious person, but he loves the atmosphere at the shrine, so he wanted to keep up the tradition even though he didn’t have to anymore.

Though this year, their parents aren’t coming along. Apparently, they can’t enjoy the shrine visit in peace with the twins, so now that Atsumu and Osamu are old enough to take the train to Kobe by themselves, their parents send them off on their own and the two of them will visit the shrine later.

The shrine is buzzing with people when Atsumu and Osamu make it there. There was a little snowfall last night, so the ground is covered in a thin layer of glinting snow.

They climb up the stairs to the shrine and purchase ema plaques to write down their wishes for the upcoming year.

Atsumu starts by writing down the same wish he has every year—he wishes for luck at the Interhigh and in all the other tournaments they’re going to play in this year. He doesn’t think they need luck to win, but not wishing for it feels like taunting the universe.

What he might need luck for at the Interhigh is getting Sakusa’s number.

Atsumu would like to believe that their budding friendship isn’t all in his head, but he keeps thinking back to what his friends said that day during lunch. Atsumu can admit that he and Sakusa aren’t the most likely pairing to become friends. What’s more, Ginjima might have been correct—maybe Sakusa had only tolerated Atsumu at the camp because he thought it was easier than shaking Atsumu off, and the reason he didn’t give Atsumu his number was that he had no intentions to speak to Atsumu ever again.

So, a little luck on that front wouldn’t hurt.

Atsumu also writes down a wish to be able to get to know Sakusa better. He feels like such a sap for it—he’s acting like the main character in a romance movie wishing for their true love to love them back. It makes him a little nauseous just thinking about it.

It’s true what Atsumu said to Komori—the only reason he really kept pestering Sakusa was because he was pissed off he wouldn’t talk to him otherwise. But the more he got to know Sakusa, the more he felt like they could actually become friends. Good friends, even. So Atsumu allows himself this moment of sappiness.

He hangs his ema among the hundreds other plaques, making sure Osamu never catches a glimpse of what he wrote down. He would probably die on the spot from embarrassment if Osamu saw so much as Sakusa’s name written on Atsumu’s ema.

Osamu is fully focused on writing down his own wishes, though. Atsumu tries to sneak behind him to peek at his ema, but Osamu senses the danger and slams the wooden plaque against his chest before Atsumu can read what it says.

“Fuck off!” Osamu hisses. “This ain’t none of yer business.”

Atsumu snickers but takes a few steps back. Osamu writes down one more wish before hanging his ema with a contemplative look.

Atsumu nudges Osamu with his elbow. “Didja wish for luck with telling something to a certain someone, perhaps?”

Osamu’s eyes widen. “Huh? Wait— What?” he stammers.

Atsumu scrunches his face in confusion at Osamu’s response. “Umm, are ya good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Osamu blinks at him warily. “I just... How the hell didja know that?”

I didn’t. It was just a guess, is what Atsumu doesn’t say.

“I have my ways,” Atsumu smirks instead. Then, after thinking about it for a couple of seconds, “For what it’s worth, I think Suna would be delighted to hear what ya have to say.”

“Suna?” Osamu furrows his brows. “Ya think I have something to tell Rin?”

“What, ya have something to tell someone else?”

“No.” Osamu seems to shake himself out of his daze. “And I don’t have anything to tell Rin either.”

“Ya literally just admitted that ya wished for luck with telling someone something!”

“That was just to make ya feel better about yerself.” Osamu’s fully reverted to his fed up with Atsumu tone. “Yer never right about anything so I took pity on ya.”

“First of all, I’m always right, so yer wrong!” Atsumu huffs. “And second of all, since when have ya taken pity on me?”

“First time for everything. So don’t worry, yer probably gonna be right one day, too.”

“I was right just now!”

Their bickering is interrupted by a soft cough that sounds familiar. Atsumu and Osamu immediately shut their mouths and whip around.

“Kita-san!” they greet in unison. They shoot annoyed glares at each other, also in unison.

“And Aran! Fancy seeing ya two here together,” Atsumu says, this time without Osamu chorusing him.

“I usually visit with my grandmother, but she came down with the flu a few days ago so she decided to stay home this time. So, I joined Aran-kun instead,” Kita explains.

“Oh, hopefully she’ll get better soon,” Osamu says.

“Thank you. It’s nothing serious, and I believe the worst is already over. I’m sure she’ll be back on her feet soon.”

“Are ya also here for the ema?” Aran asks.

“Yep! But we already wrote down our wishes,” Atsumu says.

Osamu nods. “We were just about to leave to buy omikuji.”

“Wanna go there together? Just give us a few minutes,” Kita suggests.

“Sure!” Atsumu and Osamu say at the same time again. Osamu squints at Atsumu, as if it wasn’t Osamu’s fault.

Kita and Aran go buy ema for themselves. As they’re looking for a more quiet spot to write down their wishes, a toddler almost runs into Kita. In the hassle of dodging the kid, Kita drops his plaque, but Aran manages to catch it before it hits the ground. Kita smiles his thanks when a chuckling Aran gives him his ema back.

“They’d make a cute couple, wouldn’t they?” Osamu says as Kita and Aran get to writing.

Atsumu frowns at him. “They’re friends, though.”

“Duh. I’m saying they would be a cute couple. Maybe they should wish for that in their ema.”

“And why should they? Can’t people just be friends these days?” Atsumu scoffs.

He’s not being a hypocrite, is he? He might think that Osamu and Suna would make a good couple, but that’s because they’re clearly crushing on one another. Osamu has no evidence whatsoever that Kita and Aran like each other—so why on Earth would they wish for anything but continuation of their friendship?

“Why are ya getting so worked up over this? It was just a thought.” Osamu studies Atsumu for a few seconds, tilting his head. “Yer secret crush isn’t Kita-san, is it?” he eventually smirks.

Atsumu buries his face in his hands. “Not this shit again,” he groans.

“Is that a yes?” Osamu teases.

“No, it’s not a fucking yes!”

Osamu shrugs, apparently deeming it the truth. “Hmm. Well, I’m gonna figure out who ya like, one way or another.”

“I know yer dumb, but do ya actually not just understand Japanese? I’ve told ya like a million times that I don’t have a crush.”

Atsumu wants to shake some sense into Osamu. In fact, he takes his hands off his face to do just that, but Osamu slaps his hands away.

“And every time ya tell me that, it just makes me more convinced that ya got something to hide.”

“Yer actually so fucking—”

Apparently, Kita has a sixth sense for when a Miya twin fight is brewing, because once again he appears next to them before the argument can escalate.

“We’re all done here,” he says with a seemingly calm tone, but Atsumu and Osamu immediately shut their mouths.

“Shall we?” Aran smiles, gesturing toward the part of the shrine with the omikuji.

The twins nod and Aran starts leading the way.

“Ya better have wished for luck at nationals,” Atsumu says as they weave their way through the crowd.

“Ya bet I did,” Aran chuckles. “I need to make a good impression on all the scouts, after all.”

Out of the third-years in the team, Aran’s the only one aiming to go pro. The Spring High will be an important opportunity for him to show off his skills to the scouts that come to watch the games.

“Don’t worry, Aran-kun. Even if luck isn’t on yer side, I’ll give ya plenty of chances to shine with my sets,” Atsumu grins.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Aran says, patting Atsumu’s shoulder.

The shrine is packed with people, but finally they get to the omikuji table. Atsumu hands out the money to the lady behind the table and picks out a stick with the number 20.

He takes a few steps to the side to look for the drawer with the matching number. Osamu soon joins him, having paid for his omikuji.

“What’s yer number?” Atsumu asks but takes a look at Osamu’s stick before he can answer.

“Oh, 65. It’s over there.”

“Jeez. They’re in order—I woulda found it myself.” Osamu shakes his head and takes a sheet of paper from the drawer Atsumu pointed at.

Atsumu finds his drawer and takes out the omikuji. They step away from the people still looking for their drawers, and Atsumu unfolds the piece of paper in his hand.

Future Blessing
Overview: Good things will come, but not everything is as it seems.
Health: Words unspoken weigh heavy on the heart. Do not hide from yourself or others.
Love: Love that is tested but persists grows stronger. Forgiveness is your friend.
Job: Hard work will pay off, but the fruits of your labor are slow to ripen.
Your wish: Give it time, and it will come true.

Atsumu reads through his fortunes, glossing over the love advice. He wouldn’t have minded a better fortune grade, but he’ll take it.

Next to him, Osamu groans. “Are ya kidding? It’s another curse!”

Atsumu cackles. This is the third year in a row when Osamu gets a curse instead of a blessing.

“Serves ya right. Mine’s not great either, but at least it’s a blessing.”

Kita and Aran seem to also have found their fortunes.

“What didja get?” Atsumu asks them.

Aran flips his omikuji around so that Atsumu and Osamu can see it. “Great blessing,” he grins. “It even says this is the perfect time to apply for a new job.”

“So now ya have my sets and luck on yer side! The V.League teams will be fighting for ya!” Atsumu beams.

“Hopefully,” Aran chuckles.

“How about ya, Kita-san?”

“I got a small blessing.”

“Nice to hear some people get good luck,” Osamu mutters. "I got a curse."

“’Course Kita-san got a blessing, he’s probably best friends with all the gods,” Atsumu says.

Kita shakes his head at him, amused. “C’mon, let’s go tie Osamu-kun’s omikuji to the tree so that bad luck doesn’t come true.”

The tree is already full of fortune slips waving in the faint wind. Osamu finds an empty spot and ties his omikuji to the branch.

Done with their traditions at the shrine, they start making their way down the steps. Aran asks about the twins’ plans for the rest of the day, which consist mainly of eating yesterday’s leftovers and playing Mario Kart.

Aran and Kita are planning to eat lunch in Kobe, so once at the bottom of the steps, the twins say goodbye and wish happy New Year to their senpais and start toward the train station.

On the train, Osamu dozes off. They got little sleep last night, wanting to both stay awake until midnight to bid farewell to the old year and wake up early to watch the first sunrise of the new year.

Atsumu takes his fortune slip out of his pocket. Especially one sentence had caught his eye when he first read it—Do not hide from yourself or others.

He can’t help but think about what Sakusa said about holding back at the camp. Sakusa said it like it’s a bad thing, but isn’t it good to hold back from being yourself if you’re a bit of an ass? Not that Atsumu thinks there’s anything wrong with him, of course—it’s everyone else’s fault for not being able to handle him.

But still, isn’t it only reasonable to take others into consideration in how he acts? Doesn’t it just mean that he’s growing as a person?

Atsumu spends the train ride lost in thought. When the train arrives at their stop, Atsumu slips his omikuji back into his pocket. He usually throws them away at home, but he might hold onto this one a bit longer.

Then Atsumu slams Osamu’s thigh with much more force than necessary to wake someone up. Osamu jolts awake and instinctively almost decks Atsumu in retaliation, but stops himself at the last second, realizing that they’re in a public place surrounded by other people.

Osamu settles for hissing a few insults at Atsumu instead.

“Ya should be grateful I woke ya up at all,” Atsumu huffs.

“Actually, mighta been better to stay on the train and get far away from ya,” Osamu grumbles as they step out of the train.

Ah, Atsumu can’t wait to kick his brother’s ass at Mario Kart.

This is an all-time low for Atsumu’s so far short but sweet volleyball career. Inarizaki didn’t even make it out of the first round.

And of course, out of all teams at the Spring High, it just had to be Kageyama’s to beat them.

Atsumu enjoyed the match—he really did. He hates playing against people who suck, and Karasuno definitely didn’t suck, even if he had thought that at first.

Kageyama and the shrimp’s quick attack didn’t come as a surprise—they’d seen it plenty of times on tape while preparing for the match. Atsumu was excited to encounter it on the court, actually, and it ended up being even cooler in person.

He also had a great time going head-to-head with their libero—racking off service aces from someone clearly so talented felt great.

But what the hell happened to the goody-two-shoes Kageyama from the Youth Camp? Some of his sets during their game couldn’t have been farther away from the people-pleasing tosses he gave out at the camp.

His serves too... and blocks. Seriously, this Kageyama kid is starting to piss Atsumu off.

And he’s a little bit jealous of Kageyama, too. Because while Kageyama might’ve learned to demand things from his hitters, there still wasn’t anyone more demanding on the court than that shrimp number 10. He was jumping around with a give me the ball attitude the whole game, and Atsumu couldn’t help but decide that one day, one way or another, he would be the one giving the ball to him.

Atsumu cringes at the thought and the fresh memory it brings to his mind. Sure, he would love to set to Hinata one day, but did he have to phrase it like the volleyball version of a profession of true love?

Then there’s also the guilt Atsumu feels. He and Osamu scored more points with their version of the freak quick than they lost with failed attempts, but it doesn’t change the fact that they lost a lot of points.

Obviously Atsumu always feels a certain level of responsibility for their losses, but this time he really might’ve been too caught up in the thrill of the game, and maybe that cost them the win. Osamu seems to feel just as bad.

On the way to the dressing room, Kita tells them not to be too hard on themselves, but even that doesn’t help. Though he does offer a distraction when he makes the whole team cry with his proud captain speech.

Atsumu’s still sniffling when they get back up to the main floor.

Kita said he hates the idea of trying out things in matches without practicing them first. Atsumu decided then and there that he and Osamu would practice the shit out of the freak quick before their next tournament.

So, the bitterness of the loss is slowly turning into resolution to practice harder, but the bitterness is still very much there.

On the main floor they pass a group of Inarizaki students. Two of them step forward and call out his and Osamu’s names.

Atsumu recognizes them as the girls who cheered during his first serve. Seriously, what was up with that? They claim to be his fans, yet they didn’t know to shut up when he’s serving?

“Don’t mind the loss,” one of them says with a consoling smile.

“It was a great game!” the other one adds.

“Who the fuck cares?” Atsumu rolls his eyes. “A loss is a loss. Yer squealing ain’t gonna change that.”

“Well,” one of them stutters. “We just wanted to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Atsumu mumbles and walks past them.

Atsumu can hear the girls’ scoffs of disbelief but right now, he couldn’t care less what they think of him. He can also hear Osamu offering them a few placating words.

Ginjima gives a low whistle behind him. “Jeez. Ya really shoulda accepted Aochi’s confession when ya had the chance, ‘cause at this rate every other girl in our school is gonna hate ya.”

“What a tragedy,” Atsumu deadpans.

They’re staying at the gym for the entire day, so the others are talking about what games they’re going to watch. Atsumu, however, is not in the mood to watch any games.

The only game he might’ve gone to watch is the Itachiyama game, but it’s probably already in the final set, so Atsumu can’t be bothered.

The others start leaving for the gym, and it appears that Atsumu is the only one not going to watch a game.

After a little whining about being abandoned, Osamu relents and decides to stay too. He says it’s because given Atsumu’s current state of mind, he can’t be trusted without a babysitter, but Atsumu can tell Osamu’s not in the mood to pay attention to games either. The only reason Osamu was going to go was probably so that he could’ve spent more time with Suna.

The others leave, and Atsumu and Osamu find a quiet spot in one of the corridors.

Atsumu’s currently sprawled out on a bench in the corridor, eyes closed, using his track jacket as a pillow. Osamu’s munching on some consolation snacks at the end of the bench.

“Tsumu. Get up,” he suddenly says.

“Noooo. Don’t wanna.”

Osamu slaps Atsumu’s leg with enough force that there’s probably a palm-shaped red mark under his track pants.

“Ow!” Atsumu springs up, ready to retaliate, when he notices the reason Osamu told him to get up.

“Oh, Sakusa-kun! And Komori-kun. Hi!”

Sakusa stares at Atsumu with contempt, probably disgusted by Atsumu lying on a public bench.

“Weren’t you supposed to get your revenge on us? I’m struggling to understand how getting eliminated after your first game helps you achieve that.”

Atsumu groans. “Kick ‘em while they’re down, huh, Sakusa-kun?”

“Well, joke’s on ya—the actual revenge was depriving ya of the joy of playing against us,” Atsumu smirks.

Sakusa throws a scowl over his shoulder at a team that walks past them, apparently too close to his liking. “I suppose it would’ve been enjoyable to get to beat you again.”

“Don’t pretend like playing against us isn’t thrilling even if ya lose.”

“I wouldn’t know how it feels to lose to you.”

“Well, ya will after the Interhigh!”

“How many times can you swear revenge with nothing to show for it in the end before you learn some humility?”

Osamu huffs behind Atsumu. “The day Tsumu becomes humble is the day hell freezes over.”

Sakusa looks like he wasn’t prepared for a third party to join the conversation. He stares at Osamu for a second, then gives a hum as a response.

“Well, we’re leaving for our hotel soon. We need time to rest, since some of us still have matches to play tomorrow,” Sakusa says, starting toward the exit.

Atsumu ignores the jab. “Wait! Ya gotta gimme yer number first.”

Sakusa stops and turns back around.

“No?” he says, as if confused why his answer would be any different than it was a month before.

“It’d be straight up cruel to refuse me after our tragic loss,” Atsumu pouts.

“I didn’t think you were one for consolation prices, Miya.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Atsumu cries out. “I ain’t asking for consolation prices, just gimme yer damn number.”

Komori elbows Sakusa to the side and gives him a look. Atsumu’s familiar enough with non-verbal communication with Osamu to know that the look carries a message, even if he can’t decipher what that message is.

“Fine,” Sakusa sighs.

Atsumu whoops and quickly fishes his phone out of his pocket. He eagerly stretches out his hand to give it Sakusa, but he doesn’t take it. He eyes it for a moment, then looks at the bench Atsumu was just lying on, and reaches out to his bag for a glove. Komori rolls his eyes, clearly amused. Atsumu doesn’t dare to poke fun at the over-cautious gesture, lest Sakusa changes his mind.

After putting the glove on, Sakusa takes Atsumu’s phone and types in his number.

“There,” he says, handing the phone back. “But believe me when I say that if you flood my phone with messages, I will block you.”

“Don’t worry, Omi-kun,” Atsumu grins. “I promise to be a reasonable texter.”

Komori had been half-listening to their conversation, but he snaps his head to look at them when he hears the nickname. He looks delighted. Sakusa looks anything but.

“I told you not to call me that,” Sakusa grits out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Atsumu placates. “But I’m a nickname person! It slipped.”

“You’d better use my actual name when you save my number in your contacts.”

“I promise I will,” Atsumu says, playfully putting his hand on his heart as if he’s making a vow.

“Now we have to go. I suppose I’ll hear from you, then.”

“Oh, ya will,” Atsumu grins. “Good luck in tomorrow’s games!”

“Thanks, Atsumu-kun!” Komori says, while Sakusa only nods before leaving.

“Omi-kun, huh?” Atsumu can hear Komori sounding out the nickname as he and Sakusa walk away. Sakusa gives Atsumu a dirty look over his shoulder, as if to say, “Look what you started." Atsumu only shrugs innocently.

He’s beaming when he turns around and slumps back onto the bench. He can feel Osamu staring at him, and when he turns to him, he finds his twin smirking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Atsumu snaps, already not liking this.

“So is this the crush you’ve been trying to hide? Lied about Aochi ‘cause ya were embarrassed yer crushing on the guy who beat us at the Interhigh?”

For a few seconds Atsumu just stares at Osamu dumbfoundedly. Then he bursts out laughing.

“What? Seriously, this whole month ya haven’t believed me that I’m friends with Sakusa, and now yer saying I have a crush on him? What the hell even gave ya the idea?”

Osamu starts putting up fingers as he lists reasons. “Ya seemed desperate to convince not only us but yerself that Sakusa didn’t mind yer company at the camp. Yer bad mood disappeared immediately when ya saw him. You’ve been obsessed about getting his number. Yer smiling like an idiot now that he gave it to ya.”

“And? Yeah, I was happy to see him again. That doesn’t mean I have a crush on him.”

Osamu puts up another finger. “Ya sound hella defensive.”

“No, I don’t!” Atsumu snaps, to which Osamu responds with an amused quirk of his eyebrows.

Okay, maybe he’s being defensive. But only because he does not have a crush on Sakusa. Even the idea of that being the case is ridiculous.

Osamu moves onto the fingers of his left hand. “Ya just called him Omi-kun.”

“So what? Like I told him, I’m a nickname person!”

“Are ya, though? The only person I know ya ever call by a nickname aside from me is Rin.”

“So are ya saying I have a crush on Suna?”

“Ew, no. But there’s quite the difference between Sunarin and Omi-kun.”

Atsumu runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. Everything Osamu is saying is technically true—he’s just interpreting it all wrong. But Atsumu doesn’t know what to do to make his brother listen to him.

So, he does what he always does when he doesn’t know how to deal with Osamu—resorts to violence.

Atsumu slaps Osamu’s hands that are holding up six fingers, then shoves him, nearly knocking him off the bench.

This seems to have been the wrong move, because now Osamu looks even more convinced that Atsumu is just refusing to admit the truth. Osamu adjusts himself back to a comfortable position and lifts his hands back up. “Ya haven’t even denied it,” he smirks, putting up another finger.

“Well, If I gotta spell it out for ya—no, I don’t have a crush on Sakusa.”

Osamu finally lowers his arms and crosses them instead, squinting at Atsumu suspiciously. Then his face takes on a more serious expression. “Ya know, if ya like boys, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Atsumu’s exasperation shifts into confusion. “Well, duh. ‘Course there’s nothing wrong with that. When have I ever had a problem with ya being gay?”

Atsumu still remembers Osamu coming out to him when they were twelve. Osamu had acted weird for weeks. There were many moments when Osamu would suddenly go quiet, lost in thought. And when Atsumu asked him what was going on, Osamu would just brush it off.

It wasn’t until Osamu finally told Atsumu that he’s gay that his weird behavior made sense. It was a big deal to Osamu, and he had been scared of how Atsumu would react. All those times he seemed lost in thought must have been Osamu gathering up the courage to say the words to Atsumu, only to chicken out in the end.

Atsumu had no idea why Osamu had been scared to tell him, though. Atsumu couldn’t have cared less that his brother was gay. Maybe Osamu had worried that things might get weird between them—he had looked genuinely relieved when Atsumu simply thanked Osamu for telling him and went back to studying the pieces of the puzzle they were completing.

Osamu had found a fitting piece for the puzzle of his own life—of course Atsumu was only happy for his twin, even if his twelve-year-old self didn’t have the emotional skills to express that happiness.

“You’ve never had a problem with me being gay. Yer an asshole, but not that kinda asshole. But people can be fine with others being gay and still not want to admit that they’re gay themselves.

“Yer dumb, so I had to make sure yer not being dumb about this and refusing to admit yer crushing on Sakusa just because he’s a guy. Ya were so weird about the whole Aochi thing it got me thinking that maybe ya were trying to cover up for the fact that ya like some guy instead.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with liking guys, okay?” Atsumu huffs.

“That’s good to hear, at least. So then there’s gotta be another reason yer hiding yer secret crush on Omi-kun.”

“For fuck’s sake, there ain’t no secret crush! Besides, I’m not into guys.”

Osamu coming out to him didn’t make things weird between them, but what had felt weird to Atsumu was that Osamu already knew something like that. Atsumu had never given any thought to his sexuality. He wanted to ask Osamu how he knew but felt like it would’ve been a stupid question. He just figured something pivotal would happen and he would just know it.

Frowning, Atsumu reconsiders it now. At twelve, Atsumu hadn’t experienced a pivotal moment like that. Neither has he at seventeen. But he has also never had a crush on a girl. Is it possible that he indeed is in denial about liking guys? Do not hide from yourself, his omikuji said. Is that what he’s been doing—hiding from himself?

But why would he have done that? Osamu said that you can be okay with others being gay but still not want it for yourself, but that doesn’t sit well with Atsumu.

“At least I don’t think I’m into guys,” he adds after a moment of contemplation.

Osamu studies him for a few seconds. “Well, it’s okay not to be sure. All I wanna be sure about is that if ya ever like a guy, yer not gonna pass on it just ‘cause it’s a guy.”

A small smile plays on Atsumu’s lips. Osamu isn’t all bad, he supposes.

“Though it seems like yer in denial about liking at least one guy.”

“Shut up about that already!” Atsumu snaps.

Trust Osamu to ruin a heartfelt moment. Atsumu shoves him again, though this time Osamu is ready and doesn’t let himself be pushed off balance.

“Shouldn’t ya be worrying about yer not-so-secret crush instead of hyper fixating on my non-existent crush? We’re graduating in a year, after all. What happens when ya end up in opposite corners of the country? What can ya do about it then?”

Well, Atsumu didn’t mean to bring it up. But it’s Osamu’s fault, really, for riling Atsumu up.

“The hell are ya talking about?” Now it’s Osamu looking at Atsumu dumbfoundedly, though it’s clearly just an act—Osamu must know precisely what Atsumu’s on about.

“Yer crush on Suna, obviously.”

“What the fuck? I don’t have a crush on Suna,” Osamu replies way too quickly.

“Uh-huh. Ya want me to start listing reasons for why I think that’s a blatant lie?” Atsumu grins smugly. It feels great to be the one doing the grilling for a change.

Osamu’s having an internal struggle by the intense look on his face. Eventually, he sighs, seemingly reaching a conclusion in his head.

“Nah, I’ll admit it. I like Rin,” he says, though not before looking around to make sure there’s no one around to overhear them.

Atsumu’s brows shoot up. Well, that was easier than he had thought. Disappointingly easy, even—Atsumu would have loved to tease his brother a bit more.

“It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t even know if Rin’s into guys,” Osamu says, going for a casual tone but failing.

Atsumu scoots closer to Osamu on the bench. “I don’t know either, but I know he’s into a guy.”

Osamu looks at Atsumu skeptically, though there’s also a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “He is?”

“Yes, and that guy is you.” Atsumu points at Osamu who just looks at Atsumu like he’s crazy.

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Are ya stupid? It’s very obvious he likes ya back.”

“No, it’s not. What proof do ya even have?”

Sighing, Atsumu repeats Osamu’s gesture from earlier and starts counting with his fingers.

“Suna’s practically glued to his phone, but he puts it away every time he talks to ya. Like ninety percent of the times I’ve seen a genuine smile on Suna’s face have been when he’s with ya. He never has any qualms with ya invading his personal space.”

“He doesn’t complain when ya invade his personal space either.” Osamu’s expression reveals that in his opinion Suna should.

“Yeah, but I’m like that with everyone. And there’s a difference between throwing yer arm around someone’s shoulder and leaning against them to watch a video they wanna show ya.”

Osamu has his you’re right and I hate it look on his face.

“Seriously, ya should go for it,” Atsumu says, nudging Osamu with his elbow. “I’m gonna quit volleyball if Suna doesn’t like ya back.”

Osamu scoffs. “No, ya won’t.”

“Okay, I won’t quit volleyball. But I’m gonna admit to Ma and Pa that it was me who broke that vase they got as a wedding gift.”

“I still can’t believe ya managed to put the blame on me for that,” Osamu groans, smacking Atsumu’s head.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out in a self-satisfied smile before continuing with the conversation. “What’s the worst that can happen if ya confess to Suna, anyway?”

“Umm, Rin doesn’t like me back and never talks to me again ‘cause it’ll be too awkward with him knowing I like him.”

“But you’ve already been friends while you’ve been crushing on him.”

“Yeah, but then he’d know I like him,” Osamu says like he’s explaining something to a toddler.

“What difference does it make?”

“Are ya stupid? It makes all the difference. Just imagine someone ya don’t like confesses to ya. Could you go on like nothing happened?”

Atsumu has never understood why getting friend-zoned is such a big deal. But now that he really thinks about it, he has to admit Osamu is right. Aochi got over her crush on Atsumu very quickly, but if she hadn’t, working on group projects with her would've probably made Atsumu squirm in dismomfort. Just the thought of spending time with someone who has a crush on him makes him uncomfortable in a way he can’t quite explain.

“Okay, fine. I might be uncomfortable. But Suna’s always so chill. I think he’d be the last person to care about that—as long as ya didn’t make it weird, he wouldn’t either. But that’s a moot point, ‘cause no way in hell does Suna not like ya.

“Ya keep pestering me about crushes I don’t even have, when yer crushing on someone who likes ya back. I know yer gonna regret it if ya don’t do anything, so just stop being a damn coward and go for it, okay? And if Suna breaks yer heart, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Ya wouldn’t be able to beat Rin,” Osamu huffs.

“Hell yeah I would,” Atsumu says, puffing his chest and crossing his arms menacingly.

“His dad is a karate instructor with a black belt. They train together once a week.”

Atsumu lets his arms fall back into his lap. “Okay, let’s hypothetically say I decide it’s best not to pick a fight with Sunarin. I’ll still be there for ya, okay?”

Osamu looks at Atsumu for a beat. Then a small smile tugs at his lips, though he tries to hide it by playfully pushing Atsumu. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles.

Atsumu smiles too, leaning back against the wall. “Wanna join the others for the Ichibayashi match?”

Osamu cocks his head, seeming slightly surprised at Atsumu changing his mind about watching games, but nods. “Sure.”

They collect their belongings and make their way into the gym. Ichibayashi has unsurprisingly taken the first set but is currently five points behind in the second set. They call a time-out right when Atsumu and Osamu step in.

The bleachers are fairly empty now that most of the day’s games have been played, so it doesn’t take them long to locate their teammates.

“Huh, didja finally stop sulking about our loss?” Akagi asks when Atsumu plops down next to him. Osamu sits down next to Suna in the row in front of Atsumu.

“Yeah, life’s too short for moping around.” Atsumu’s sage statement is followed by snorts from various team members.

“Oh, right!” Atsumu fishes his phone out of his pockets and opens his contacts app.

“Look!” Atsumu shows the others the newly added contact information with a smug grin. “Got Sakusa’s number. I toldja I’d prove y’all wrong.”

“That could be anyone just saved as—” Ginjima leans forward as if to make sure he’s reading it right. “Omi-kun.”

“It is actually Sakusa. I saw him give his number to Tsumu,” Osamu says. “Sakusa even approached Tsumu on his own accord,” he adds, apparently feeling charitable.

“So now y’all owe me an apology!”

“I don’t think we did anything wrong,” Ginjima shrugs.

“Yes, ya did!”

On the court, the game continues, and their bickering gives way to commenting on good and bad plays.

In front of Atsumu, Suna leans to whisper something to Osamu whose ears turn pink at the proximity. Atsumu also notices Osamu placing his hand on Suna’s knee when he leans in to whisper his reply, which is more forward than anything he’s seen Osamu do before. Maybe his brother isn’t totally hopeless.

Inarizaki stay for the third day of the Spring High too, since they’re exempt from attending classes that day anyway.

Their coach commands them to spend the morning doing their homework, so by the time they get to the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, Itachiyama’s third round match is already over. They make it in time, however, to watch Fukudorani beat Matsuyama Nishi Biz High in straight sets.

In the afternoon, the whole team gets together to watch the Itachiyama vs. Inubushi Higashi match. Atsumu can’t help but admire Sakusa’s skills, smirking every time a player seemingly in the perfect position to dig Sakusa’s spike completely botches the receive.

Atsumu can feel Osamu studying him from time to time, which pisses him off, but with Kita only three seats away from him, he can’t do much about it.

In the final set of the game, Itachiyama’s captain injures his ankle and to everyone’s shock, Itachiyama gets eliminated.

To: Omi-kun
> heyy! this is atsumu
> i watched your game. looks like we really weren’t meant to play each other this tournament, huh?
> but fortunately we still have next year (^ω~)
> anyway, how’s your captain doing?

Most of their team goes to watch Fukudorani’s quarterfinal match next since the only Tokyo team left is now the favorite to win it all. Atsumu wants to see Karasuno play again, though, so he and Osamu make their way to the on-going Karasuno vs. Kamomedai game.

Hinata’s running and jumping around the court like a monster ends up being his downfall when he collapses after a particularly impressive rally. However, it makes Atsumu’s fingers itch to set to him even more. One day, he tells himself.

Back in their accommodation, Atsumu is ready to go to bed when his phone’s screen lights up. He buries himself under his blanket and grins when he sees the notification of the message he just received.

From: Omi-kun
> Iizuna-san’s injury isn’t too bad, but he was pretty upset about it.

To: Omi-kun
> well of course he’s upset. it’d suck to have your last tournament in high school end like that
> ya didn’t seem too upset about it though. how’d everyone else in your team react?
> and i hate to admit it, but that play ya did to close off the first set was hella cool. i'm gonna steal it

Atsumu forces himself to put his phone away and go to sleep since they’ll leave for Hyogo ridiculously early in the morning.

But he knows what he’ll be doing on the bus ride tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Atsumu is already getting teary, and Kita has barely said a word yet.

It’s been a week since they returned from the Spring High. The training leading up to the tournament was intense, and their next tournament isn’t until June, so they got a little break. However, Inarizaki is a powerhouse, even if they didn’t make it through the first round this time, so a week is all they got.

Atsumu, of course, didn’t need even that one week. He took two days off because he probably would’ve received a scolding from Kita if he had gone to beg him for the gym keys immediately after their return, but he was back in business as soon as he deemed it safe. However, there’s only so much he can practice without the whole team, so he couldn’t be happier to get back to regular training.

But before practice kicks off again, they need to hand out new jerseys to the first and second years, which is why they’re currently seated on the gym floor in front of the third-years, waiting for Kita to give a goodbye speech.

“So. I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I was given my number one jersey. I’d like to thank y’all for that year.”

Atsumu sniffs. Next to him, Osamu levels him with an unimpressed look that Atsumu interprets as “Are ya seriously already crying? ” Atsumu glowers at him.

“I know our last tournament ended earlier than any of us wanted, but I hope no one’s being too hard on themselves for that. The result might not have been what we hoped for, but that doesn’t make the road leading up to that final tournament any less valuable.

“I hafta admit that when I became the team captain, a part of me couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t a starter, and I knew I wouldn’t be a starter in my third year either. The time to ponder if I was worthy of the title or not has long gone, and that’s not the point I’m tryna make here.

“What I wanna say is that I might’ve spent most of my time on this team on the sidelines, but it’s exactly ‘cause I spent so much time on the sidelines that I can say with full confidence that this team is something special.

“Obviously, I spent a lot of time on those sidelines observing how ya and our opponents were playing so I could offer my two cents on how to win the match. But what I most often found myself thinking was, ‘Man, my teammates are pretty amazing.’”

Atsumu isn’t the only one sniffling anymore.

“Our motto is ‘Who needs memories?’ but even if ya don’t need ‘em, I hope each of ya has at least one memory from this past year ya can treasure and learn something from. I know I'll come back to many memories and think how lucky I was to be part of this team.

“I know you’ll still be amazing without us third years. So just trust yerselves, and trust yer teammates.

“And remember, practice is where the hard work is done. Tournaments are just for showing off everything you learned at practice.”

Atsumu might be offended at the way Kita’s eyes dart to Atsumu and Osamu at the last part if he could see a damn thing from the tears filling his eyes.

Kita takes a step back and gestures at Aran to say something too.

“I don’t really have anything to add, and any speech I could give would be pretty lame compared to Shinsuke’s anyway, so I’ll just thank ya for the past years and wish y’all the best of luck in yer upcoming tournaments.”

The teary second- and first-years quickly scramble up and give a deep bow to the third-years.

“Thank you so much!” they chorus.

The third-years’ eyes get a bit teary, too.

“Thanks for the great speech, Shinsuke-kun. And of course I wanna thank all ya third-years for all the time and effort ya put into this team” Coach Kurosu says when everyone has settled back down. “Now it’s time to give the rest of ya yer new jerseys.”

Atsumu feels his heartrate pick up when Coach Oumi gives Coach Kurosu the jersey with an underlined number one.

“Number one, and captain. Atsumu,” Kurosu announces.

Atsumu’s mouth falls open and he stares at the coaches, wide-eyed. Osamu has to elbow him to get him to stand up and get his jersey.

Atsumu has joked about becoming the captain for years—it was perhaps his third day of high school when he first used the word when instead of if when talking about becoming the team captain. But that was just his usual cockiness speaking. He never actually took it for granted.

He stumbles to Kurosu who hands him the jersey with an encouraging smile. When he slumps back down next to Osamu, he stares at his new jersey in disbelief, clutching it in his hands like his life depended on it—much like Kita had a year earlier.

Goddammit. Atsumu had just gotten his tears under control, but they’re back in full force now.

“Number two, and vice-captain. Osamu.”

Atsumu’s head snaps up to watch Osamu receive his jersey. When Osamu turns back with the shirt in his hands, his eyes lock with Atsumu’s and Atsumu sobs even harder. The tears are a lost cause at this point—it’s all Atsumu can do not to start wailing so loudly the basketball team in the other gym will hear him.

As Osamu sits down, he aggressively ruffles Atsumu’s hair, which Atsumu takes as “Stop crying or I’m gonna get all choked up too, and that’d be embarrassing.”

“Number three. Ginjima.”

One by one, they receive their jerseys, until the only numbers left are the ones reserved for the rookies who will join the team in a few months.

“Shinsuke and Aran asked if they can still occasionally attend practice, and I of course said yes, but from now on, yer captain and vice-captain will be Atsumu and Osamu. Wouldja like to say a few words to the team?”

Atsumu gawks at Kurosu, and the sight of his tear-streaked face seems to be answer enough to the coach.

“Maybe some later time,” Kurosu chuckles.

“Let’s get to business, then. We have a practice match against Kumadani High in three weeks. I’ll be assessing who’ll be in the starting line-up for that game, so make sure ya work hard. Though of course the starting line-up for next year’s game won’t be finalized until I see what the future first-years have to offer.”

The players scatter to get ready for practice. Atsumu takes off his jacket and sets it aside on one of the benches, neatly placing his new jersey next to it. Kurosu tells them to start warming up after putting their jerseys away, but Atsumu can’t resist picking up his phone.

To: Omi-kun
> OMIIIII
> I JUST BECAME THE CAPTAIN!!!!!!!! ＼(* ⁀ᗜ ⁀*)／
> and samu’s the vice captain!!!
> i can’t wait to boss everyone around
> and the jersey with the number one looks so cool
> i bawled my eyes out when i got it though. it was kinda embarrassing
> but kita-san also cried last year when he became the captain so i guess it’s not that bad

He suddenly remembers his promise not to spam Sakusa with messages.

To: Omi-kun
> shit, i'm rambling
> i'm sorry omi!! please don’t block me (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ
> i'm just really excited!!!

Atsumu types in another apology but decides that maybe it’s better to shut up and deletes the message. Practice is starting anyway, so Atsumu puts his phone away and joins the others in warming up.

After practice is over, Atsumu decides to start his captain career by abusing his power and excusing himself from clean-up duties. In his defense, he has to pee really badly, and by the time he comes back from the toilet, there’s barely any clean-up left to do. So, he skips to the locker room without a hint of guilt.

By the time Atsumu’s changed, many of the others have also come to change their clothes, but Osamu appears to still be finishing his cool-down routine. The weather is nice and sunny, so Atsumu settles outside the gym door to wait for his brother.

They’re going to have dinner with their grandma. They usually visit her around New Year’s, but she went on a New Year’s cruise with some of her childhood friends this year. Atsumu wouldn’t have minded joining them, to be honest—his grandma seems like she knows how to party. But since they had to skip their traditional New Year’s meet-up, their grandma’s been bugging Atsumu and Osamu about visiting her to no end.

Atsumu fishes for his phone to take it out of silent mode, and he notices he’s just received a new message.

From: Omi-kun
> You know, when I see I have 10 unread messages, I assume they’re not all from the same person. And I told you not to call me by that ridiculous nickname I refuse to type.

Atsumu winces. He can almost hear Sakusa’s heavy sigh through the phone screen.

From: Omi-kun
> But congratulations, I guess. Though I have to say I’m surprised. I’m not sure you have the mental stability to be a captain.

To: Omi-kun
> so rude! you could’ve just congratulated me and left it at that
> anyway, when will your new captain be selected?

From: Omi-kun
> It was already done on Monday.

To: Omi-kun
> ...
> aaaand?

From: Omi-kun
> I’m the new captain. Sayako’s the vice-captain.

To: Omi-kun
> i knew they’d choose you!!
> although I gotta say, you’re not the most obvious choice either. have you said a single nice word to anyone in your life?

From: Omi-kun
> Once or twice. Besides, I don’t think you’re one to talk.

To: Omi-kun
> i've said plenty of nice things in my life! i've even said nice things to you!
> why don’t you ever say nice things to me? (｡•́︿•̀｡)

From: Omi-kun
> I try to be honest.

To: Omi-kun
> well, i'll make you say nice things to me when we win at the interhigh
> and it’s gonna be even more satisfying to kick your asses now that we’re both captains
> may the best captain win (^ω~)

From: Omi-kun
> Volleyball’s a team game, you know. The best team will win.

To: Omi-kun
> but as the captain, i'll make sure my team’s better than yours!

Getting Sakusa to talk isn’t like pulling teeth anymore, but he still mostly lives by the rule of not speaking unless spoken to, which means that the conversation ends when Atsumu stops asking questions.

Atsumu checks the time before pocketing his phone. Almost all his teammates left the gym while Atsumu was texting Sakusa, but his brother is still nowhere to be seen. He's about to go and yell at Osamu to hurry up, but as he reaches out for the door handle, his captain—no, former captain—steps out.

“Oh, good to see yer still here. I forgot to give these to ya.” Kita dangles the keys to the gym in his hand.

“I didn’t get a chance to congratulate ya yet, either. So, congratulations on becoming the captain.” There’s something symbolic about Kita saying those words as he hands the keys out to Atsumu.

“Thanks, Kita-san,” Atsumu beams. “I promise to be a worthy successor to ya!”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second,” Kita smiles, eyes crinkling. “Yer love and dedication to volleyball bleed into everyone around ya, so ya already keep everyone in high spirits on the court. And I’m sure there ain’t a single player on this team who doesn’t feel grateful to get to hit sets as good as yers. So, treat everyone with the same level of consideration and respect off the court as ya do on the court, and you’ll be a great captain.”

Can people stop making Atsumu cry today?

“Oh, thanks, Kita-san,” Atsumu sniffs.

“Remember not to be too hard on yer teammates, though. It’s important to make sure no one’s slacking off, but everyone has off-days, and being too harsh on ‘em will just make things worse. And even though ya usually maintain a good energy on the court, ya have yer mood swings. As the captain, it’s important ya keep a level head and stay focused all throughout the game.”

Atsumu swallows. “Yes, Kita-san.”

“But like I said, I have no doubts you’ll do great.”

Atsumu hums, smiling. Kita doesn’t say anything he doesn’t think is true, and Kita seems to always be right, so if he says Atsumu will be a good captain, things are looking good for Atsumu.

“Ya didn’t happen to see Samu on yer way out, didja? I’ve been waiting for him,” Atsumu says.

“He and Rintarou were still in the locker room when I left.”

“Just the two of them?”

“Yes. I was gonna wait for 'em, but Osamu promised to lock up and told me to go ahead.”

“Samu toldja to go ahead?”

Kita eyes Atsumu curiously. “Yes.”

“Huh.” Atsumu cocks his head and looks at the club room window contemplatively. Is this what he thinks it is?

“Thanks for letting me know. I guess I’m not gonna go tell him to hurry up, then.”

A small smirk rises to Kita’s lips. He seems to suspect something is up too, which doesn’t surprise Atsumu at all—Kita knows everything.

“Yes, maybe it’s best if ya wait for ‘em here. I hafta head home now, but I’ll see ya around.”

Atsumu says goodbye to Kita and leans against the wall, tapping his foot impatiently.

After maybe ten minutes, Osamu and Suna finally step out of the club room—with laced hands. Their eyes set on Atsumu standing right outside the door, and they let go of each other’s hands immediately, as if they got an electric shock from each other. But they’re not fast enough.

A devilish grin spreads on Atsumu’s face. “Oh my god, didja finally grow a pair and ask Sunarin out?”

Osamu’s face is bright red as he swats at Atsumu. “Shut up!”

“Ya did, didn’tcha?” Atsumu teases.

“It was actually me who asked Samu out.” Even Suna is noticeably blushing, though he’s much more put together otherwise.

Atsumu cackles. “Of course Samu couldn’t do it.”

“Shut up! I was about to confess, okay? But I—”

“Chickened out?” Atsumu supplies. It’s rare to see his brother this flustered, so he has to enjoy it while it lasts.

“No!”

“You did, though,” Suna says, clearly also amused about Osamu’s current state. Atsumu’s usually the easier victim, so Osamu tends to avoid Suna’s jibes, but Suna isn’t one to turn down a chance to poke fun at a Miya twin, so even Osamu gets his share from time to time.

“You started confessing but clearly changed your mind mid-sentence and blurted out that you’re gay instead. I was really confused about what you were intending to say, because it must have been big if your back-up plan was telling me that you’re gay.”

Osamu buries his face in his hand, groaning.

“So, what? Ya said yer gay too and then ya kissed?” Atsumu asks Suna, dodging Osamu’s kick.

“Not exactly. Firstly, I’m bisexual, not gay. And secondly, Samu was about to run off. I told him to wait and said that it’s good to hear he’s gay since I really like him.”

“That’s kinda smooth, actually,” Atsumu muses. “But Samu, I can’t believe ya almost fucked it up.”

“Shut up,” Osamu says for a third time.

“Ya sound like a broken record.”

“Shut u—” Osamu cuts himself off. “Stop yer gloating! Ya can make fun of me when you’ve tried confessing to someone. It’s nerve-racking, okay?”

“I mean, it wasn’t too bad,” Suna shrugs. Osamu looks deeply betrayed.

“But all’s well that ends well.” Suna takes Osamu’s hand back in his and squeezes. Osamu’s agitated frown is replaced by a dopey smile.

A soft smile plays on Suna’s lips too as they gaze into each other’s eyes. Atsumu awkwardly waits for them to snap out of it, but apparently that’s not happening.

Atsumu grimaces. “Alright, this is gross.”

He locks the gym door since Osamu would probably forget to do so in his current lovestruck state. Then he starts backing toward the bus stop.

“Come on, ya scrub! Obaachan’s gonna be pissed if we’re late.”

Osamu checks his phone for the time. “Right. Shit.”

He says goodbye to Suna. For a moment Atsumu’s afraid he’s going to kiss him goodbye, but he just gives his hand one more squeeze.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Suna gives them a lazy wave and heads off in the opposite direction.

The soft smirk lingers on Osamu’s lips for a moment. Then he seems to remember whose company he’s in now, and the smile disappears.

“Don’tcha dare say anything,” he threatens.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But I can tell ya want to.”

Atsumu shrugs but can’t keep silent for long. “I mean, I kinda toldja so,” he sing-songs. “It all turned out great. Ya should listen to me more often.”

Osamu elbows him. “I woulda done it at some point anyway!”

“Yeah, maybe in ten years. But ya wouldn’t have done it any time soon without a kick in the ass. What made ya decide to confess today, though? Well, try to confess.”

Osamu shoots him a glare. “I wanted to have an escape plan. If things went sideways today, I coulda told Rin that I’m in a hurry since we hafta visit Obaachan.”

“Pfft, ya put more thought into this than different plays during games,” Atsumu says, plopping down on the bus stop bench.

“I toldja it’s nerve-racking. You’ll have the same problem one day, too, ya know.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“That’s true. Ya might just be emotionally constipated enough to never confess yer feelings to anyone.”

That’s not what I meant, Atsumu thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud since he’s not sure what exactly he meant either. Instead, he kicks the ground, flinging a cloud of sand at Osamu.

Osamu having a boyfriend isn’t as bad as Atsumu feared. Part of it is probably that they’re all in the same friend group, so they still hang out normally at school and whenever Suna comes over to Atsumu and Osamu’s house.

Osamu and Suna hang out with just the two of them more often, though, but that was probably inevitable. They already used to sometimes hang out at Suna’s house without Atsumu, but it appears that Atsumu is never invited there anymore. Suna doesn’t have any siblings, so his house is probably the best place for some privacy.

Atsumu would rather not think about what they use their privacy for.

At least they’re not as obsessed with each other as Satou was with his girlfriend. Atsumu would lose his mind if he had to listen to Osamu talk about Suna non-stop.

Osamu seems to need to talk to Suna non-stop, though.

Osamu’s currently glued to his phone as they wait for the MSBY Black Jackals vs. Tachibana Red Falcons match to begin. The volleyball stadium in Osaka is filled to the brim with people. The match is going to be an interesting one—both the Jackals and the Falcons need a win tonight if they want to make it to the final stage. And since both teams are based in Osaka, there are plenty of fans of both teams among the spectators.

Atsumu steals a glance at Osamu’s phone screen, though he wouldn’t have needed to. Of course he’s texting with his boyfriend.

“Jeez. Are ya gonna die if ya go for five minutes without talking to Suna?”

Osamu gives him a noncommittal hum in lieu of an actual answer, which means that he has absolutely no idea what Atsumu just said to him.

Atsumu tries to grab Osamu’s phone. Osamu yelps, reflexively pulling his hand out of Atsumu’s reach. He stares at Atsumu as if he’d just tried to chop his hand off. Maybe it’s true what they say about couples becoming alike—Suna’s always acted like his phone is an extension of his body.

Atsumu can only hope Osamu and Suna don’t become alike in other ways, too—the last things he needs in his life are two Osamu-Suna hybrids to bully him.

“What’s yer problem?” Osamu hisses.

“Yer supposed to be here for volleyball, not to text yer boyfriend.”

“The game hasn’t even started yet! And keep yer voice down.” Osamu looks around, paranoid.

He hasn’t come out to their parents yet, so naturally he hasn’t broken the news of his relationship with Suna to them, either.

“Calm down, the toilet queue was a hundred meters long. Ma and Pa won’t be back for at least another ten minutes. And I know the game hasn’t started yet. I have eyes, ya know.”

“But ya don’t have a brain,” Osamu quips.

“Yer the one who doesn’t have a brain! Ya don’t process half of the stuff I say to ya nowadays ‘cause yer too busy doting on Sunarin.”

To be honest, Atsumu doesn’t get why Osamu has to be in some form of contact with Suna all the time now just because they’re dating. They were already close friends, so Atsumu assumed the only thing that would change between them is that now they would also kiss and hold hands and whatnot. But clearly, he was wrong.

“Nothing ya say is worth listening to anyway. Besides, ya can make fun of me when yer dating someone too and prove yer so much better than me.”

The word when suddenly strikes Atsumu as extremely annoying.

Ya can make fun of me when you’ve tried confessing to someone, is what Osamu said to him a month ago when he and Suna started dating. Ya can make fun of me when yer dating someone too, is what he’s saying now.

“Can ya stop talking like I’m gonna get married tomorrow? It’s pissing me off,” Atsumu snaps.

“Married? What the hell are ya talking about? This is why I say ya don’t have a brain.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles and stares at the court where the team mascots have just arrived. He can feel Osamu looking at him for a few seconds before taking out his phone again.

Soon their parents get back and the game begins. As expected, the game is riveting to watch since the stakes are so high for both teams. The Jackals take the first two sets, but the Falcons squeeze out a win in the third.

“Man, the Falcons’ setter’s final toss in that third set was so cool. That angle was insane!” Atsumu gushes as he and Osamu join the line for some fried chicken. The game has shaken off his earlier gurmpiness—now he’s buzzing with excitement to see the rest of it.

“That whole final rally was so well played from both teams,” Osamu agrees. “That save by the Jackals’ libero was sick.”

“The entire game’s been awesome. I’m so glad we came!”

“Ma and Pa might disagree, though,” Osamu chuckles. “I think their interest in the game ran out after the second set.”

“Well, they’d better get used to it. It’s not long ‘til they gotta come to watch all our games!" Atsumu says. “Ya know, it’s not long ‘til we gotta start looking into some teams, either. See, I’ve been thinking it’d be nice to stay close to Hyogo, but I don’t wanna just stay close to Hyogo. I wanna be in a good team, too. But especially now that I’ve seen them play, I think the Jackals and the Falcons are really good teams. Maybe not good enough to win the championship this year, but still really good. And they’d obviously be even better with me on their roster.

“So, I’ve been thinking I might wanna start with trying out for those teams next year.”

They have moved forward enough in the queue to be able to read the menu, and Atsumu realizes that Osamu hasn’t said anything in a while.

“Stop thinking about what ya wanna eat and listen to me! Talking to ya is like talking to a wall nowadays,” Atsumu whines, but when he turns around, Osamu isn’t looking at the menu but at something in the distance.

Atsumu slaps him on the head. “Ya better not be daydreaming about Sunarin again.”

Osamu startles. He’s about to say something when Atsumu spots a familiar face walking past them.

“Aran!” Atsumu greets.

Aran snaps his head in the direction of Atsumu’s shout. He smiles when he notices the twins and makes his way to them.

“We keep running into ya outside of school!” Atsumu says.

“It seems like it. Have ya enjoyed the game?”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically. “It’s been amazing! I just said to Samu that I think I wanna try out for the Jackals or the Falcons next year.”

“The Falcons actually invited me to their try-outs in April,” Aran says.

“No way, that’s incredible!”

“Well, the try-outs are still open for everyone,” Aran clarifies sheepishly.

“But it’s gotta be a good sign they invited ya! I bet they’re looking for someone exactly like ya.” Atsumu punches Aran’s arm, grinning.

“The Jackals are also holding open try-outs, so I’ll try out for them too.”

“Yeah? Ya wanna stay close to Hyogo?”

“I think so. But most of all I wanna get into at least some team, so I’m not gonna be too picky about where that team is based.”

“Oh, yer definitely getting into a team. I just know it!”

“I hope so,” Aran chuckles.

“And when ya do, ya can teach Samu and me all the secrets of the V.League so we’re well prepared when it’s our turn.”

Atsumu expects Osamu to chime in, but he hasn’t participated in the conversation at all.

“Samu, ya good? Cat got yer tongue or what?”

This gets a glare from Osamu, at least. “I’m fine.”

“He’s no fun company,” Atsumu complains to Aran. “He keeps zoning out to think about his boyfriend.”

Now this brings Osamu back down to Earth. Atsumu slaps his hands on his mouth. The only ones who know about Osamu and Suna’s relationship so far are their fellow second-year teammates.

“Yer dating someone?” Aran asks Osamu curiously.

Atsumu mouths a silent oops to Osamu, who is staring daggers at him.

“I don’t know why I ever tell ya anything. Ya can’t for the life of ya keep yer mouth shut.” Then he turns to Aran. “But yes, I’m dating someone. Um, it’s Rin, actually.”

“Oh, congratulations to the two of you, then,” Aran smiles. “I can’t say I’m completely surprised.”

“I toldja ya were obvious as hell,” Atsumu says to Osamu, earning yet another scowl from him.

There are only two people left in the queue in front of them. “Well, I’ll letcha order yer food," Aran says. "Let’s hope the rest of the game is as entertaining as the first three sets.“

They wave goodbye to Aran and start perusing the menu.

“This is the last time I’m letting ya in on any secrets,” Osamu scoffs.

“I’m sorryyyy.”

“Yer lucky it was only Aran. I don’t mind him knowing, but it coulda been so much worse! Yer gonna hafta pay for yer food with yer own money now. I’m keeping the money Ma gave us all to myself.”

“The hell? I toldja I’m sorry!”

“And I wasn’t even thinking about Rin!” Osamu continues. “I was, um, thinking about something I wanna tell ya, actually.”

Their turn to order comes up. They get four boxes of fried chicken, and in the end, Osamu doesn’t even make Atsumu pay with his own money.

Atsumu can’t stop himself from putting a piece of chicken in his mouth while they walk back to their seats. “So, what is it that ya wanna tell me?” he asks, licking the grease off his fingers.

“Well. I wanted to say that, um, I’m not—” Osamu also grabs a piece of chicken, as if to buy himself time to reconsider his words.

Atsumu frowns. Why does he have to think about this so hard?

“I— I wanna come out to Ma and Pa tonight,” Osamu finally blurts out.

“Oh,” Atsumu blinks. “Well, that’s pretty big, I guess. I don’t think ya gotta be so nervous about it, though. They’re gonna be fine with it, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, probably,” Osamu says quietly as they step back into the stadium.

“And if they’re not, I’m gonna have yer back. Ya know that, right? If they turn out to be homophobic assholes—which they won’t—we’ll get emancipated or something. Ya know, go on the run together.”

Osamu huffs. “Yer the last person I’d wanna be on the run with.”

“Right. You’d probably wanna be on the run with yer precious Rin instead.”

They’re almost back to their seats, so Atsumu stops and turns around to Osamu before they’re within earshot of their parents. “Ya coming out ain’t gonna change their opinion of ya, okay? They’re always all about finding yer one true love or whatever. All they want is for us to be happy.”

“And in their eyes, a happy relationship is what it takes to live a happy life,” Atsumu adds, a little bitter, and starts shimmying his way to their seats.

Their parents welcome the fried chicken gladly, though not without teasing remarks of “What took ya so long?”

Atsumu and Osamu make it just in time for the start of the fourth set. The game remains as engrossing as ever, but Atsumu’s watching it from a slightly different angle now.

His chat with Aran put some things into perspective. Aran truly is signing into a professional team soon, and Atsumu and Osamu are only a year younger than he is. What Aran is going through now, they will go through in a year, and a year doesn’t seem like such a long time all of a sudden.

Atsumu used to feel sad about high school ending and everyone moving on with their lives, and he’d be lying if he said a part of him didn’t still feel that way. But as the game goes on, Atsumu finds himself more and more excited about the future.

He can’t help but picture himself on that court, setting to a bunch of incredibly skillful players, one of which might be his brother. One of which will be his brother—Atsumu’s determined that even if they end up on the opposite sides of the net in the V.League, they’ll make it to the Olympics together.

Suddenly Atsumu’s itching to get his hands on a volleyball to train. Not only for their next tournament, but also for the V.League. For the Olympics. For everything the future has in store for them.

The Falcons end up winning the game after a grueling fifth set, earning their spot in the final stage.

On the way to their car, Atsumu animatedly recounts all his favorite plays and gushes about how he can’t wait to play in the V.League himself. Osamu also chips in occasionally to comment on the plays that Atsumu is talking about, but he is unusually unenthusiastic.

When they’re seated in the car, Atsumu remembers Osamu’s decision to come out to their parents tonight. Atsumu concludes his raving about the game to give Osamu a chance to say what he wants to say, but after ten minutes of their drive home, he is still quietly gazing out of the window.

Atsumu nudges Osamu’s arm. When Osamu turns to look at him, he nods towards their parents. Osamu gives him the look that means “I know what ya mean but I’m gonna pretend I don’t.”

He’s about to turn back to the window, so Atsumu quirks his eyebrows, a look that says “Don’t be a coward,” and nods toward their parents again, this time with more vigor. Osamu responds by swatting at the air—“I know, I know.”

He's still hesitant to speak, though, so Atsumu takes matters into his own hands. “Ma. Pa. Samu has something to tell ya.”

Osamu glowers at him, betrayed. Atsumu shrugs innocently. If Osamu isn’t up for coming out after all, he can come up with something else to tell their parents.

“Oh? What is it, dear?” Their mom seems curious—she was clearly observing their silent conversation through the rearview mirror.

Atsumu can’t stay still when he’s nervous—or in general. He has to tap his foot or fidget with his sleeves. Osamu has always been the less expressive twin, but Atsumu can tell he is nervous now from the way his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“Osamu?” their mom prompts.

Osamu swallows before finally finding the courage to say, “Rin and I started dating recently.”

Their parents look at each other for a second. Atsumu was certain their parents would be supportive of Osamu, and he still is, but he can’t help but hold his breath.

Then, soft smiles appear on their parents’ faces, and their dad looks back at the road while their mom turns around to look at Osamu.

“Well, firstly, congratulations. That’s great to hear. Rintarou’s a lovely boy—I’m sure ya two will be great together. Secondly, we’re very honored that ya trust us enough to tell us,” she says, reaching her hand out to squeeze Osamu’s knee.

“I can tell yer nervous, so I gotta make sure ya know that this doesn’t change anything,” their dad butts in. “We love ya for who ya are, and now we know who ya are better. That’s all there is to it.

“I now realize that we’ve always assumed that you’d get a girlfriend, and that’s our mistake. All we care about is that ya find someone ya can be happy with. Whether that’s a girl or a boy, doesn’t matter to us.”

And Osamu has the audacity to say that Atsumu’s never right. Atsumu gives him his I told you so look, but Osamu is intently staring at their mom’s hand on his knee.

“The way we see it, if ya live yer life loving and being loved, yer living it right. So don’t let anyone, ever, tell ya that yer living yer life wrong based on who ya love.” Their mom gives Osamu a reassuring smile and pats his knee one more time before turning back around.

Osamu sniffs, and Atsumu isn’t too far away from tears either, but there’s also a strange tightness in his chest that he’s not sure what to make of. He’s definitely happy for Osamu—there’s no doubt about that. Something about their parents’ words just doesn’t sit well with Atsumu.

“We gotta remind ya, though, that with school and volleyball, ya already have a lot on yer plate,” their dad says, looking at Osamu through the rearview mirror. “We’re truly happy for ya, but remember not to let this new relationship distract you too much from everything else going on in yer life.”

Atsumu frowns. Is it really possible for a relationship to be so distracting you forget about everything else?

“Yeah, yeah,” Osamu mumbles.

“Well, we’ve already talked to ya about the... practical aspects of relationships,” their mom says.

Osamu lets out a wary hum as a response. Atsumu still remembers when they got the sex talk from their parents a few years ago. Osamu was bright red, squirming in his seat. Atsumu was embarrassed too, but mostly he was confused why any of that information was relevant to him at the time.

“But I suppose we didn’t cover everything back then. For example, just because there’s no risk of pregnancy doesn’t mean protection isn’t needed.”

“Oh my god, do ya gotta do this when I’m in the car?” Atsumu groans.

“Do ya gotta do this at all?” Osamu echoes.

Their mom cackles. “I know, I know. Ya kids probably look all this stuff up on the internet nowadays. But I feel bad for not taking this into consideration earlier! And Atsumu, don’t act like yer above all this. It might not be long ‘til yer dating someone too.”

“I doubt it,” Atsumu mutters.

Their parents get into a speech about consent and other things that Atsumu is sure are very important but couldn’t really care less about. He’s fully zoned out of the conversation happening in the car when he gets a message.

From: Omi-kun
> You went to the V.League game tonight, right? How was it?

A disbelieving smile tugs at Atsumu’s lips. This is the first time Sakusa has sent him a message unprompted. And it’s not just that Sakusa initiated a conversation with him, but he also remembered that Atsumu went to the game.

Atsumu obviously was going to tell Sakusa all about the game on his own accord, but he didn’t have time to do it yet with Osamu coming out to their parents.

To: Omi-kun
> it was awesome!! you have to watch the highlights. the falcons won but it was a super close game. both teams were playing out of their minds

“Atsumu?”

“Huh?” Atsumu looks up to find his mom looking at him expectantly. She clearly asked him something, but he has no idea what.

“Ya say yer not getting into a relationship anytime soon, but I can’t help but wonder if ya already have someone in mind.” She pointedly looks at Atsumu’s phone, then at the smile still lingering on his lips.

“I don’t!” Atsumu presses his phone against his chest protectively.

“Uh-huh.” Their parents share an amused glance that irks Atsumu to no end.

“Tsumu’s texting Sakusa, I bet. Or Omi-kun, as he calls him nowadays.”

There goes Osamu, throwing Atsumu to the wolves again. Well, Atsumu also sort of threw Osamu to the wolves when he told their parents Osamu had something to tell them, but that doesn’t stop Atsumu from kicking Osamu’s ankle in revenge.

“Isn’t Sakusa that boy from the Youth Camp? Ya did seem pretty thrilled about becoming his friend,” their dad smirks.

“Yeah, about becoming his friend !” Atsumu snaps, his voice coming out more frustrated than he intended to, but just as frustrated as he feels.

“We’re just teasing, darling,” their mom placates.

Atsumu huffs and leans his head against the car window, though not before catching Osamu studying him curiously.

“And even if ya had a crush on this Sakusa—which we know ya don’t,” their dad quickly adds when Atsumu momentarily lifts his head, ready to object. “It’d be perfectly fine not to act on that crush. Crushes come and go all the time. You’ll know when ya find someone ya wanna date.”

Atsumu doesn’t respond. There it is again—when.

As Atsumu watches the headlights of the oncoming traffic flash by, their mom tells them how she used to dream about her wedding day, but she could never picture the boys she dated standing at the altar with her until she met their dad.

Is Atsumu supposed to dream about these things too? Sure, he’ll probably find someone to date one day. Everyone does, right?

And it’s not like he doesn’t want a relationship. Not having to take care of bills and taxes alone. Having someone who knows you so well that they know when you’re having a rough day and how to make you feel better. This made me think of you texts, slow mornings cooking brunch together, movie marathons when you should be going to bed. All of those seem pretty great.

It’s just that Atsumu has never really envisioned himself dating anyone, let alone getting married. His mom couldn’t see herself walking down the aisle to the boys she used to date, but Atsumu can’t even picture himself on that aisle.

Atsumu is jolted out of his thoughts when he remembers his chat with Sakusa was interrupted.

From: Omi-kun
> I’ll try to find the highlights.

After a few minutes of no response from Atsumu, Sakusa has sent another message.

From: Omi-kun
> Who do you have winning the championship now that the regular season is over?

Atsumu excitedly writes a reply.

To: Omi-kun
> my prediction’s that the adlers and the hornets are in the finals, but i think the warriors have a chance as well. if i gotta pick one to win it all, i'll say the hornets. the adlers’ second half of the season just hasn’t been that strong

The rest of their drive passes by quickly as Atsumu and Sakusa analyze all the possible outcomes of the V.League.

When they arrive home, Atsumu isn’t tired in the least.

“Samu, wait! Come hit some of my tosses.”

Osamu gives him an incredulous stare from where he’s about to go upstairs. “Now? It’s so late.”

“I know, but the game got me all hyped up! I won’t be able to sleep ‘til I get some tosses in.”

“Then go do some setting drills alone. I wanna go to bed.”

“Alright, ya don’t gotta hit ‘em, but I wanna show ya those sets I’ve been talking about.”

“Fine,” Osamu sighs.

They grab warmer jackets and put their shoes back on. Atsumu grabs two volleyballs, and they make their way to their backyard, where a volleyball net has been set up for years now.

As soon as they got back from the Spring High, Atsumu went to have a chat with Coach Kurosu. Karasuno’s freak quick is impressive even to the untrained eye, but Atsumu didn’t realize its true brilliance until they played against Karasuno and that shrimp forgot to hit the ball Kageyama set to him. The ball didn’t continue its trajectory forward but fell almost straight down.

Coach Kurosu explained the basics of a set like that to Atsumu, and Atsumu’s been practicing it ever since. He still fumbles it from time to time, but he’s confident enough to show it to Osamu.

Atsumu hands Osamu the balls and gets into position, gesturing Osamu to throw him one of the balls. When the ball comes to Atsumu, he sets it back towards Osamu. It looks like it’s going to hit the wall of their house, but after reaching its peak, it drops right in front of Osamu.

“Damn, ya actually did it,” Osamu says, mildly impressed.

“’Course I did. Ya think I’m gonna let Kageyama beat me so easily? If I’m gonna set to Shouyou-kun one day, I gotta be able to do all the tricks Kageyama does. Don’t say ya doubted me.” Atsumu raises an eyebrow at Osamu.

“Can’t say I did. Let’s see if ya can do it again, though.”

Osamu throws another ball, this time faster. Atsumu gets under it and sends it toward Osamu again, but this time it drops closer to Atsumu, exactly where he wanted it to.

“Aren’tcha itching to spike one of those sets at least a little bit?” Atsumu grins as Osamu picks up the balls from the ground.

“Maybe if I wasn’t five minutes from falling asleep.”

“Oh well. Yer gonna have plenty of chances to hit ‘em in the future. I didn’t practice this just for Shouyou-kun, ya know.”

They fall into a rhythm of Osamu throwing Atsumu balls and Atsumu setting them.

“Hey, Tsumu?” Osamu says as Atsumu hits a ball.

“Yeah?”

“About what ya said earlier...”

“About what?”

Osamu stays quiet as he picks up the balls and sends one of them Atsumu’s way.

“I’m not gonna go pro.”

Atsumu frowns, tossing the ball slightly closer to the net than he had intended. “What, ya mean ya wanna go to university first or something?”

“No. I mean I’m quitting volleyball after high school.”

Atsumu scoffs, waiting for Osamu to throw him another ball. When the ball doesn’t come, he looks at his brother’s face and finds it completely serious.

“What exactly are ya saying?”

“Are ya even listening to me?” Osamu sighs. “I mean I’m not gonna keep playing volleyball after high school. Well, maybe as a hobby, but not as a career.”

Atsumu squints at him. “Is this some kinda joke?”

“No. Why would I joke about this?”

Atsumu stares at his twin in the yellow glow of their porchlight, at a loss for words. The neighborhood is completely silent, bar the distant noises from the nearby highway.

“Tsumu?” Osamu prods after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Atsumu’s still not sure what to say, but eventually he settles for, “What the fuck, Samu? So you’ve just been lying to me all these years?”

“Whaddya mean? I haven’t been lying to ya.”

“We literally made a vow to keep playing together ‘til we’re too old for it.”

Osamu looks confused for a beat before understanding spreads across his face.

“Ya mean when the vow ”—Osamu makes air quotes around the word—“we made when we were ten?”

“Who cares how old we were? A promise is a promise!” Atsumu can hear his volume steadily rising, but he doesn’t feel completely in control of his voice.

“Ya also vowed you’d be the first person to go to Jupiter.”

“And maybe I will!” Atsumu snaps. “Who knows what I’ll do after I retire from volleyball.”

Osamu buries his face in his hands. “Oh my god.”

Atsumu stomps closer to Osamu. A car drives past their house, momentarily breaking the silence of the neighborhood with its low hum and the crunch of its tires on the road.

“Ya know, I was so excited after today’s game. Especially after talking to Aran and realizing it really is only a year until we graduate. I thought it’d be us on that court in a year. With Ma and Pa watching us play. Like I always dreamed. Yer telling me none of that's gonna happen?”

Osamu lowers his hands from his face to be able to look at Atsumu. “It’s still gonna be you on the court. Yer dream’s still gonna come true.”

“My dream wasn’t just going pro. It was going pro together with ya. And I thought it was yers too.” Atsumu can feel tears pooling in his eyes.

“For a while, I thought it was, too,” Osamu explains. “But at some point during middle school I realized that it’s not my own dream I was chasing, it was yers. Yer passion for volleyball is just so overwhelming that it’s easy to get caught up in it.”

“What, so I’ve just been dragging you along against yer will?”

“Jeez, why do ya gotta be so dramatic? If I wanted to quit sooner, I woulda. I love volleyball too, ya know.” Osamu looks at Atsumu like it’s important for him that Atsumu is listening.

“I love volleyball enough that I could go pro and be fine with it. But I don’t wanna just be fine with what I do. I wanna love what I do. And though I love playing volleyball right now, I don’t think I’d love it as a career.”

“So what are ya gonna do instead that yer gonna love so much?”

“I’m gonna go to culinary school. I think I wanna run my own restaurant. I’d get to manage every part of the process from creating the perfect menu to choosing the best ingredients to serving the food to customers. That’s what I think I’d love.”

“That’s fucking great. I’m so happy for ya,” Atsumu spits. He tries to keep himself from crying, but he can feel tears rolling down his cheeks.

“For fuck’s sake!” Osamu’s voice is rising now, too. “I’m my own person, ya know? I’m allowed to have my own dreams.”

“'Course yer allowed to have yer own dreams. It woulda been nice if ya didn’t lie to me about those dreams, though.” Atsumu is starting to shiver despite having his winter jacket on.

“I didn’t lie! I wanted to tell ya earlier, but I knew you’d react exactly like this.”

Atsumu suddenly realizes that this is what Osamu's been trying to tell him lately. All the times he went weirdly quiet, he was trying to come up with the words to tell Atsumu he's quitting.

“Well, ya shoulda told me earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have reacted like this if ya hadn't let me think we’re in this together for so long!” Atsumu pokes Osamu’s chest with his pointer finger. “Ya said you’ve known yer not going pro since middle school? What the hell happened to telling each other everything?” he demands through his tears.

Osamu shoves Atsumu’s hand away. “Why do I gotta tell ya everything? Ya coulda asked me what it is that I wanna do. But ya didn’t, not even once. Instead, ya just assumed that I want all the same things ya do. And now that ya know what I wanna do, apparently ya still can't be supportive of my dreams just 'cause they're not what ya thought they were.”

"I'm sorry if I can't be happy for ya when I just found out my dreams were doomed to never come true years ago, and I didn't even know it! When I just found out that the one thing I thought would always unite us means jack shit to ya, and yer swapping it for a lifetime chopping vegetables in some dingy kitchen."

"Oh, fuck off!" Osamu fumes, pushing Atsumu.

Atsumu pushes him right back. "Why even bother keeping on playing 'til the end of high school? I'm sure Coach Kurosu can still name someone else vice-captain. I bet yer just waiting to get rid of me."

"Don't put words in my mouth! This ain't about getting rid of ya. This ain't about ya at all, actually. But of course ya gotta make it about ya, like ya always do."

“Lemme guess, Suna’s decided he’s not gonna go pro either?”

Osamu’s face scrunches in confusion. “What the hell does Rin hafta do with this? But no, he hasn’t decided anything yet. He’s still weighing his options.”

Atsumu opens his mouth but is interrupted by the door to their backyard sliding open.

“Boys, is everything alright?” their dad asks, their mom peeking at them behind him. “It’s half past nine in the evening. The neighbors are gonna complain about yer shouting.”

“No, everything’s not fucking all right,” Atsumu hisses, wiping his tears.

“Language, Atsumu,” their mom chides, but she looks worried. Atsumu couldn’t care less about his language right now.

“I told him I’m quitting,” Osamu says quietly, and understanding spreads into their parents’ faces.

Ah, of course. Of course, they already know. Osamu probably asked them to help figure out how to best break the news to Atsumu. Atsumu can picture them conspiring against him when he was at the Youth Camp.

Suddenly, Atsumu needs to be alone. He starts toward the door, pushing past his brother.

Osamu reaches out to grab Atsumu’s sleeve, but Atsumu jerks away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

He storms past their parents and runs upstairs. He manages to bring himself to change into his pajamas before climbing into bed. Brushing his teeth is way too much to ask of him right now.

He can hear Osamu’s worked up voice saying something to their parents downstairs before he too stomps upstairs and, by the sound of it, goes to do his nightly routine in the bathroom. When he comes into their bedroom, he doesn’t say a word to Atsumu, but the way he slams the door closed is message enough.

Atsumu is still sniffling when Osamu switches off the lights and slips into the bottom bunk.

Objectively, Atsumu knows he shouldn’t be this upset. Yes, he wishes Osamu would keep playing with him. Yes, he wishes Osamu would’ve told him about his decision to quit sooner. But at the end of the day, Osamu has the right to live the kind of life he wants to, and he wasn’t completely wrong for blaming Atsumu for assuming they share the same ambitions in life.

It’s just that it feels like Osamu’s suddenly got it all figured out. He’s got a boyfriend that their parents are going to adore. He’s got a plan to pursue his dream career. One day Osamu and Suna are probably going to have the perfect wedding and adopt perfect children that will be everything their parents ever wanted.

But doesn’t Atsumu also have it all figured out? It was only a few hours ago that he was gushing about the V.League, looking forward to pursuing his dream career too. And isn’t his dream so much better?

Osamu’s going to run some hole-in-the-wall restaurant and live a gross domestic life with his boyfriend. Atsumu’s going to become a professional volleyball player. He’s going to travel around the world, playing in tournaments and winning trophies. He’s going to be the best goddamn setter in the world.

And he’ll start doing all that right after high school while Osamu rots in culinary school. Atsumu’s the one going on ahead. Then why does it feel like he’s being left behind?

Why does it feel like he’s being left all alone?

Chapter Text

As all the Miya twins' fights come to an end, so does the conflict over Osamu’s decision to quit volleyball. The road to forgiveness involves the declaration of a contest, unsurprisingly, to determine which twin would lead the happier life, a spur-of-the-moment phone call, and a piece of paper, of all things.

The weekend following the Jackals vs. Falcons game and the fateful argument passes in silence. Not only does Atsumu make sure not to utter a word to Osamu during those two days, but he also does his best to avoid so much as looking at his twin. And based on the few times Atsumu accidentally glances at Osamu’s face, he’s doing the exact same thing—all Atsumu ever sees is a pair of eyes pointedly looking anywhere but at Atsumu.

Their parents try to act as brokers of peace, of course, but to no avail. It isn’t until Monday and volleyball practice that Atsumu is forced to acknowledge Osamu’s existence. He tries to utilize the tactic of selectively ignoring Osamu, but even Atsumu’s saint-like self-control has limits.

He might be able to endure Osamu’s contemptuous glares if shooting those glares didn’t distract Osamu from playing the game. It’s possible Atsumu’s sets are also a little shakier than usual, but they’re usually so on point that even after a small decrease in quality, they should be plenty easy to hit.

“Why are ya even here?” Atsumu snaps after Osamu’s line shot is out of bounds for the third time in a row. He’s aware of their teammates staring at them, but the twins yelling at each other is nothing they haven’t seen before.

“Ya already gave up on volleyball, and with the way yer playing right now, it seems to have been a great decision. What’s the use of coming to practice anymore if all yer gonna do is drag us down? Ya should just quit now and start reading cookbooks instead so yer career doesn’t turn out a complete failure.”

By the looks of it, it’s probably taking all of Osamu’s self-restraint not to commit fratricide in front of the entire team.

“Alright, let’s take a break,” Coach Kurosu steps in. He gives Atsumu a stern look. “Cool down, wouldja? That’s no way for the captain to behave.”

“Yessir,” Atsumu mutters and aggressively grabs his water bottle from the bench. He takes a big swig, imagining for the drama of it that it’s hard liquor he’s drowning his sorrows in. Except that he’s never even tasted alcohol before, and a small sip of liquor would probably have him coughing. But that’s not the point.

Atsumu notices Osamu staring daggers at him and decides it’s a great idea to sit down next to him. Osamu ignores his taunting, though, and doesn’t say anything.

“Sulk all ya want,” Atsumu says, taking another sip of water. “Just don’t come crying to me when I’m a volleyball star loved by the whole nation, and yer an overworked chef and some customer tells ya that yer rice tastes like cardboard.”

When the break ends, Osamu shoves his way to the court past Atsumu. His glares get even more hostile, but the quality of his spikes improves, so Atsumu holds his tongue for the rest of practice.

At home, they go back to pretending the other one doesn’t exist. Osamu even opens the fridge door straight into Atsumu’s face, ignores Atsumu’s yelp of pain, and leaves the kitchen with his pudding as if Atsumu truly wasn’t there.

The next day, though, it’s Osamu who breaches the silence.

“I toldja, I made up my mind a long time ago,” he says while they wait for practice to start.

Atsumu gives him the dirtiest side-eye he can muster, but Osamu barrels on, explaining how Atsumu isn’t going to be the happier one just because he’s sticking with volleyball.

He grabs Atsumu by his collar. “If you’re so dang sure you’ll be the happier one, then come back when we’re 80-year-old geezers! Wait until then to laugh in my face and say you were happier!”

Atsumu can do many things, but turning down a challenge, especially from Osamu, is not one of them.

So here they are, clinging to each other’s collars, swearing to be the one to live the happier life.

Atsumu’s mood is slightly improved after their confrontation—it’s always great to rough Osamu up a little—and the tension between them eases up a little now that they can focus on proving each other wrong.

However, Atsumu is nowhere near being able to forgive Osamu.

The twins stop giving each other the silent treatment, but the curt sentences spoken only when necessary and mostly to provoke the other one aren’t much better. Ignoring Osamu is passive-aggressive. It takes a little effort to avoid eye contact, but not much. Their verbal warfare requires active work, and although many people probably think that being mean comes naturally to Atsumu, spiting Osamu for days on end is exhausting.

Their spiteful comments also contrast with the silent moments, making them even more uncomfortable than when they weren’t speaking at all. The silence in their bedroom is so loud at night that Atsumu has trouble falling asleep despite his exhaustion.

So, when on Saturday morning Osamu announces that he’s going to spend the entire day with Suna, Atsumu is relieved to get some space.

At first, that is. Their parents are visiting friends of theirs in Kyoto, so they’re also away for the day. Atsumu goes for a run, catches up with his manga series, and plays some Pokémon Black 2. But by the afternoon, he’s bored to death, and when he’s bored, his mind starts running rampant.

He knows this fight with Osamu has to come to an end at some point, and based on Osamu’s behavior, it’s clear he expects Atsumu to take the initiative in fixing things.

Atsumu isn’t really even mad at Osamu anymore. But it’s easier to be mad than face the other emotions Osamu’s decision to quit stirred up in him.

So, to distract himself from his thoughts, he takes out his phone.

To: Omi-kun
> omiii! how did your practice games go yesterday?

From: Omi-kun
> Don’t call me that.
> The games went okay. We won all sets, but we’re still shaky without the third-years.

Atsumu starts typing a reply, but on a whim, he hits the call button next to Sakusa’s name instead. Sakusa hasn’t picked up by the sixth ring, and Atsumu is about to hang up when the rings are replaced by a voice he hasn’t heard in almost two months.

“Why are you calling me?”

“That’s no way to answer a call! I’m calling ya ’cause I wanna talk to ya, obviously.”

“We were just talking.”

“But typing is so bothersome, don’tcha think?”

“How can it be so bothersome when you don’t even bother to capitalize any letters?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Omi-kun.” Atsumu pouts despite no one being there to see it.

“I told you not to call me that,” Sakusa objects perfunctorily. Atsumu ignores him.

“I’ve had a shitty week, okay?”

“You have?” Sakusa asks the question like he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to say.

“Mmhmm.” Atsumu puts the phone on speaker and falls onto his back on the couch.

Sakusa stays quiet for a beat before eventually asking, tone still unsure, “Why?”

“Samu and I are fighting.” Damn. Atsumu was supposed to avoid thinking about that.

“Doesn’t that happen every other day?”

“Well, yes, but this one’s worse than usual.”

“Right.” Another pause. “What’s it about then?”

“Samu told me he’s quitting volleyball after high school.”

“Didn’t you explain you were going pro together like two weeks ago? Why did he decide to quit all of a sudden?”

“Well, it turned out Samu decided he’s not going pro in middle school. He just didn’t bother telling me that until last week.”

“So is this why you’ve barely bothered me this past week?”

“Oh. Um, yeah.”

Atsumu didn’t even realize he wasn’t texting Sakusa as much as usual, but it doesn’t surprise him—he tends to get in his head when he’s fighting with Osamu. A few years ago Osamu twisted his ankle, and Atsumu got angry at him for having to miss a tournament. The consequent argument caused Atsumu to forget to do his homework.

“I see.” Sakusa sounds relieved. “And why exactly are you so upset about Osamu quitting?”

“Because he broke his promise! When we were ten, we played in our first official elementary school tournament. We won, obviously, and after the game we swore we’d play together ‘til we’re too old for volleyball.”

“You were ten?”

“Why does it matter so much how old we were? I’ve been dreaming about going pro with Samu since then. The least he coulda done was tell me when he decided to quit. But no, apparently even that was too much to ask. Instead, he let me think that my dream would come true all these years only to crush it right when it was finally starting to feel real.”

Atsumu is met with silence again. He picks up the strings of his hoodie and fiddles with them while waiting for Sakusa’s reply.

“I can see why that would upset you. Why did Osamu decide to quit, then?”

“He wants to open his own restaurant someday. He said he didn’t decide to quit ‘cause he thought he wasn’t good enough to go pro, but ‘cause he doesn’t think he’d love volleyball as a job. I think he’s downgrading, but he says just ‘cause I’m sticking with volleyball doesn’t mean I’m gonna be more successful.

“So then we made a bet on who’ll live the happier life.”

Atsumu thinks he hears Sakusa mumble to himself, “Of course they did,” but he might be imagining it.

“But Samu can’t possibly think he stands a chance! In what world is owning a restaurant considered more successful than winning at the Olympics?”

Sakusa hums contemplatively. “Do you really believe Osamu won’t be able to become successful as a chef?”

“Well...” No. As much as Atsumu has scorned his twin’s choice of career, it’s mostly to make it easier to ignore his true feelings.

Atsumu knows Osamu will be a great chef. His customers will love both him and his food. Atsumu doesn’t doubt he’s going to become successful in life despite quitting volleyball. In fact, it might be because he’s quitting volleyball that he’ll become successful.

“Don’t you want Osamu to be happy?”

“’Course I do! I just...” I just don’t want him to be happy without me. It sounds fucked up, which is why he doesn’t admit it to Sakusa, but it’s not too far from the truth.

Because in truth, Atsumu thinks he might be the one who doesn’t stand a chance in their competition. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s what’s killing him—the idea of Atsumu’s life being so empty without Osamu by his side, and Osamu thriving in spite of not having Atsumu by his side.

“I just wish we could be happy and successful together. We were supposed to go pro together. Win gold at the Olympics together. But now I don’t know if we’ll ever be anything together.

“I knew we mighta had to play for different teams at first. And I’d accepted that. But at least we woulda been in the same profession, y’know? We coulda bitched about our strict diets and snuck in a few extra cheat days. We coulda talked about sponsorships and figured out how to do taxes. We coulda watched games to prep for our matches and talked shit about each other in post-match interviews.

“But now Samu gets to eat whatever he wants. He’s gonna take business classes and learn all about taxes on his own. He’ll watch cooking shows instead of volleyball games and stress over perfect recipes instead of perfect serves. And none of that has to include me. See how there’s no more together?

“Samu’s always been there for me ‘cause we live together and go to the same school, but what’s gonna happen when we don’t? What reason does he have to keep me in his life after we graduate? He doesn’t need me anymore. He’s got Suna to lean on, and he’s probably gonna make a bunch of great friends in culinary school.

“But what if… What if I’m not gonna have anyone? What’s gonna happen when all my friends are getting married and having kids and even Samu’s got a long list of reasons not to hang out with me anymore?”

Atsumu stops, realizing he’s been monologuing for over a minute. “Umm, yeah,” he concludes awkwardly.

He called Sakusa to not think about all that, but maybe deep down he knew he needed to get it off his chest.

The line is silent on Sakusa’s end. Atsumu checks to see if he’s hung up. The call is still connected, but Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if Sakusa put his phone down and walked away to do something else.

Atsumu curses himself for rambling for so long. He pulls his hood over his head and tightens the drawstrings, leaving only a small opening to see through.

He’s running through ways to nonchalantly take back everything he said when Sakusa finally speaks again. “I don’t really understand why you’re so worried.”

“Didja even listen to me?” Atsumu asks more snappily than he intended to—he couldn’t really blame Sakusa if he had zoned out.

“I did,” Sakusa replies instantly, sounding earnest.

“Then what’s so hard to understand?”

“Well, Osamu’s your brother.”

“I’m aware.”

“And from what I understand, you’re really close?”

“Apparently not that close, since he kept his decision to quit volleyball a secret for such a long time,” Atsumu scoffs.

“I just... Is it possible that...” Sakusa exhales in frustration, apparently struggling to find the right words. “Since you’ve always had Osamu by your side, maybe you take his presence in your life for granted?”

Atsumu frowns behind his hood. “I don’t take it for granted.”

“Then why aren’t you fighting for it?”

“I am fighting for it!”

“To me it sounds like you’re just fighting.”

Atsumu opens his mouth to protest, but Sakusa isn’t exactly wrong.

“This isn’t about me, though! What’s the point of me fighting for it if Osamu wants to get rid of me so bad?”

For some reason Atsumu can picture Sakusa rolling his eyes at Atsumu’s comment.

“I feel like you’re blowing this out of proportion. Did he say he wants to get rid of you?”

Atsumu winces. “Not exactly.”

Osamu explicitly said his decision to quit had nothing to do with getting rid of Atsumu, but Atsumu isn’t going to admit that to Sakusa.

“Then why do you think he does? You’re scared of losing him, right?”

Atsumu nods, then remembers Sakusa can’t see it. “Yes,” he mumbles.

“And that makes sense. Like you said, you’ve always had him in your life by default, and now that that won’t be the case, you’re scared of things changing. What doesn’t make sense to me is you thinking Osamu doesn’t feel the exact same way. He’s always had you, just like you’ve always had him.”

“Yeah but Samu’s... well, he’s Samu. He always seems to be fine no matter what.” Atsumu doesn’t know how to describe this fundamental difference between him and his twin without admitting that Osamu’s always been more put together and mature than Atsumu.

“You said you’re mad at Osamu for keeping his decision a secret from you for so long. Why didn’t he tell you earlier?”

“He said he was afraid of how I’d react.”

“Rightfully so, it seems,” Sakusa mutters to himself. This time Atsumu knows he heard it.

“Omi!”

“Doesn’t him being scared of your reaction mean that he’s scared of losing you too? You seem dramatic enough to cut all ties with him just because he didn’t do as you want.”

Atsumu’s mouth falls open. “Omi !”

”My point is, moving out, starting culinary school—that’s a huge change. Osamu’s probably freaking out about his life after graduation too. Don’t you think he wants to hold onto the stuff that’s familiar to him as long as he can instead of throwing it all away at once?”

“I’m not sure if I’m worth holding onto for him.”

“I…” Sakusa starts incredulously, then goes quiet. Atsumu decides not to wait for his reply.

“I mean, Samu’s never said or done anything to show that he cares. How can I just trust that he does?”

Sakusa lets out a long breath like he’s mentally preparing himself for something. “The thing is, not everyone shows affection directly. I… I don’t. But the people who matter know me well enough to know I care about them. And who knows Osamu better than you? You must know how much you mean to him. Even if you don’t want to admit it right now.”

“Maybe… but I could be wrong! You could be wrong.”

“Well, if you don’t think Osamu cares about you, I can’t really make you believe it. But for what it’s worth, even if he did want to replace you, I doubt he could.”

“Aw, you’re saying I’m one of a kind? Irreplaceable?” Atsumu says, trying to keep a hold of himself by lightening the conversation a little.

“One of a kind in stupidity and vanity. I don’t understand how someone so full of himself can doubt his worth to others so much.” Sakusa ignores Atsumu’s yelp of protest. “But yes, I think that to Osamu, you’re irreplaceable.”

Sakusa hesitates before continuing.

“Listen… I’m not very close with my siblings. Ikumi’s 11 years older than me and Shigemi’s 14 years older, so I barely remember what it was like when they still lived with me and our parents. And after they moved out, I haven’t been able to see them much.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Atsumu remembers Komori telling him at the camp that Sakusa’s siblings are much older than he is, but Atsumu didn’t realize the age gap was that big.

“Well, now you do. Your relationship with Osamu—it’s completely different from what I have with Ikumi and Shigemi. You were born, what, minutes apart? You couldn’t not spend time with each other even if you wanted to. And… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of jealous of you. I mean, I’m used to my siblings being distant to me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish they were a bigger part of my life sometimes.

“And the reason I wish I was closer to my siblings is because you can’t really build that kind of relationship later in life. I have Motoya, of course, but we actually barely knew each other before we started playing together. And sure, I can make friends, but they’ll only ever know the version of me I am when I meet them.

“You’re scared Osamu’s going to replace you, but… who would he replace you with? Who else has been there his whole life? Who else in this world knows him like you do—not only who he’s now, but also every version he’s ever been?”

Atsumu blinks, processing what Sakusa said.

“Goddamn, Omi. How are ya this wise? That’s like, anime mentor shit.”

“It wasn’t even that impressive,” Sakusa mumbles, sounding embarrassed. “You’re just so thick-skulled that everything sounds wise to you.”

“Hey! I’ll have ya know I’m at the top of our class in English and math. But seriously, ya should start a side hustle as a therapist.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Atsumu grabs a couch pillow and hugs it against his chest, staring at the ceiling contemplatively. Their conversation forced Atsumu to think about his fight with Osamu which is a sore subject and the exact thing he wanted to avoid. But it also felt really good to open up about it.

Atsumu’s never really had anyone to talk heart to heart like this besides Osamu and his parents. He never would’ve thought he’d have a conversation like that with Sakusa of all people, but he’s glad he did.

He’s glad he called Sakusa.

But he also feels like it’s time to move on from this topic. He’s babbled on about himself for ten minutes, and while he could easily keep going for another ten minutes—rambling is a special skill of his—he’s starting to feel self-conscious about making Sakusa listen to him.

Atsumu releases himself from his hoodie cocoon and sits up. “So, what’s it like to have siblings so much older than ya? How often do ya see them?”

“Shigemi lives in Fukuoka, so I only see him once or twice a year. Ikumi lives closer, in Kyoto, so I see her a bit more often. But like I said, I’ve gotten used to it. It’s hard to compare my life to someone who has siblings closer in age, since I don’t really know what that’s like,” Sakusa explains.

“It just seems like it would be nice,” he adds more quietly.

“Nah, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Samu can be a real bitch sometimes.”

“Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but… watching siblings bicker with each other is actually what really makes me notice what I’m missing. I always hear people complaining about their siblings and saying they’re the worst.”

Atsumu exhales a silent laugh. He knows exactly what Sakusa’s talking about—he and Osamu are experts in trashing each other.

“But few things sound more affectionate to me than people saying how much their sibling sucks. Because they don’t actually mean it, right? I just wonder sometimes if they even realize how lucky they are to be so close with their siblings that they can say the meanest stuff and somehow it just means they care.”

“So ya can’t casually tell yer siblings to fuck off?”

Sakusa huffs a dry laugh, which Atsumu realizes is the first time he’s heard him laugh. “Oh, no. I’d get a scolding. Well, maybe not from Shigemi, but definitely from Ikumi. And their view of me as their pleasant and proper little brother would be changed forever.”

Atsumu hums. “What are yer siblings like, then?”

“They’re alright.”

Atsumu waits for Sakusa to continue, but apparently he’s done talking. “That’s it?”

“Well, Shigemi’s always calm and composed. He’s a little shy and reserved—a bit like me in that sense. We’re usually the quieter ones at family dinners. Ikumi’s more sociable.”

“But that’s the thing…” Sakusa seems unsure whether to continue. “I don’t really know them. I know what they’re like and what’s going on in their lives, but that’s it.”

“Whaddya mean by that?”

“Well… Um, for example, when Ikumi went on exchange to Australia in university, I was surprised, but apparently she’d been dreaming about it for years. I just didn’t know it.

“Or when Shigemi broke up with his girlfriend of eight years. Last I’d heard, they were talking about getting married and starting a family, but apparently the last year of their relationship was pretty miserable for both of them.

“And it’s safe to say Shigemi and Ikumi don’t really know me either. Both were surprised when I told them I want to go pro after university. They thought volleyball was just a fun little hobby for me.

“We also share zero interests. They don’t know anything about volleyball or photography. They barely have time to watch movies. They ask me about my hobbies, but I can tell they’re not really interested in them. They only ask because I’m their brother, and obviously I appreciate the effort to get to know me better, but sometimes it feels like they’d be better off—”

This time it’s Sakusa who cuts himself off, realizing how long he’s been talking about himself.

“Uh, that’s what I mean,” he says sheepishly.

Atsumu finds himself choked up. He feels for Sakusa, of course, but mostly it’s because Sakusa’s words highlighted just how different their relationships with their siblings are.

Sakusa asked if Atsumu takes his close relationship with Osamu for granted, and Atsumu said he doesn’t, but maybe he does. Though now that he’s heard how things could be, he won’t take it for granted anymore.

Atsumu sniffs and pulls himself together. “Wait, if there’s something else ya wanna talk about, I don’t mind listening!”

Atsumu doesn’t want Sakusa to think he’s annoyed by Sakusa’s rambling, especially after he pretty much played Atsumu’s therapist for ten minutes.

“No, it’s okay.” Sakusa sounds like he really doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, so Atsumu doesn’t press him.

“By the way, you’ve never really talked to me about the photos you take. I remember Komori-kun mentioning you’re into photography, but I wanna hear about it from you!”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re interested just because I told you a sob story about how my siblings aren’t,” Sakusa says self-consciously.

“I’m not pretending!” Atsumu assures “I actually wanna know. Besides, I’ve babbled about myself so much these past months that it’s only fair ya tell me something about yerself! Do ya have one of those fancy old cameras?”

“No, those are film cameras. I use a digital one.”

“Oh. What’s the difference?”

“With film cameras, you shoot the picture on a film and develop it later. A digital camera captures the image on a sensor, and you can see it instantly. Digital’s faster, more reliable, and easier overall, which is why it’s better for beginners. Shooting film is much more fickle, but I want to learn it at some point too because it has a unique look and I think the process of developing the film is cool.”

“I see! What got ya into photography?”

“Well, I’ve always loved movies, and I used to dream of making my own one day. But that’d be a ton of work, and I’m not good with words, so I wouldn’t even know where to start with dialogue.

“A couple of years ago, my mom dragged me to a photography exhibition. I didn’t want to go at first because I thought it’d be boring, but it was actually really fascinating to see how the photographers had captured so much emotion in their pictures. Most movies have 24 frames in just one second, right? A photo is one single frame. But if the photographer’s good, that one frame is enough to tell a whole story.”

“A picture is worth a thousand words, eh, Omi-kun?”

“I hate clichés, but I have to admit that one’s pretty accurate.” Sakusa sounds like he’s smiling. “Since I had to give up on making a movie, I want to make a photo book instead one day, and tell a story that way.”

“That’s so cool! What kinda pictures do ya take, then?”

Sakusa explains that he takes all kinds of pictures, though he never plans his pictures ahead of time. Apparently he prefers capturing fleeting moments instead of setting up still life or waiting around for hours, hoping something perfect shows up.

As Sakusa tells Atsumu about his hobby, Atsumu can hear him getting more and more excited. Atsumu realizes that he must sound like that too when he talks about volleyball or about the cool places he’s been to.

When Sakusa says he has to go grocery shopping with his mom, Atsumu is shocked to find that they’ve been talking for over an hour. Atsumu makes Sakusa promise to send him some of his photos at some point before they hang up.

The call leaves Atsumu in the best mood he’s been all week. He fixes himself a snack and decides to get some of his homework done. He’s just finished his literature assignment when he hears their front door open and close, followed by soft footsteps up the stairs.

Osamu steps into their room. He stops for a second when he notices Atsumu at his desk.

“Too bad, I thought ya might have gone out,” Osamu says and starts changing out of his jeans.

Atsumu swallows down the sarcastic response on his tongue. “How was yer day?” he asks instead.

Osamu squints at him, clearly not trusting Atsumu’s sincere question after a week of snide remarks. “It was good,” he replies curtly. He pulls on a pair of joggers and shrugs off his hoodie before leaving the room again.

“Imma get dinner started,” he yells on his way down the stairs.

Atsumu considers going down to help him with the dinner preparations, but even though his chat with Sakusa helped him clear his thoughts about the situation, he still needs to do some thinking before talking with Osamu—he’s not in the right state of mind to forgive him yet.

However, Atsumu isn’t deliberately mean to Osamu during dinner, and his twin notices and reciprocates the change in attitude, relieving some of the tension between them—even if they still refuse to be part of the same conversation.

Sunday passes with Atsumu helping his mom run some errands. First they visit Atsumu’s grandma to help her with her spring cleaning. Then they visit the farmer’s market for some flowers his mom is going to plant in their garden. Finally, they go to the supermarket to buy the next week’s groceries.

When they come back, Atsumu still has his math homework to do. He opens his textbook, but notices he’s lost the paper with the problems he needs to solve. He must have accidentally put it between the pages of another textbook. He takes the stack of textbooks out of his drawer and sets it on his desk with a thump and starts going through them.

As he flips through the pages, a piece of paper slips out, but it’s too small to be the assignment paper. It slowly floats down to the floor, and when Atsumu picks it up, he recognizes it as his omikuji from New Year.

He reads through the lines of text, already familiar to him save one.

Love that is tested but persists grows stronger. Forgiveness is your friend.

Atsumu always glosses over the love advice because he’s never felt like it was relevant to him. However, this particular piece of love advice feels very relevant.

He barely paid any heed to it on New Year’s—he wasn’t in a romantic relationship, nor was he looking for one, so why would he have? But now that he looks at it, he realizes romantic love isn’t the only type of love there is.

And to think Atsumu would never have read those words if he threw away the omikuji after their shrine visit like he usually does. It almost feels like he was meant to see it now. Which is stupid—Atsumu doesn’t believe in that stuff. He likes the tradition of writing his wishes on the omikuji because it feels magical, but he knows there’s no actual magic involved.

Magic or not, it’s enough to make him think that maybe now it’s time for his feud with Osamu to come to an end.

Atsumu puts the omikuji away and continues flipping through the textbooks until he finds his math problems. After he’s done with his homework, he makes his way downstairs and to the kitchen where he knows he’ll find Osamu cooking dinner.

Osamu gives Atsumu the side eye when he steps into Osamu’s sacred space, but continues slicing the beef in front of him into steaks.

“Can I help?” Atsumu asks.

Osamu waits a moment before answering. “Ya can chop up some onion, bell peppers, and carrots for the stir fry.”

Atsumu nods and takes out the requested vegetables. He starts by slicing the onion, taking a few steps back every now and then to ease the stinging in his eyes.

Osamu finishes cutting the meat and places the steaks into the sauce he’s prepared to marinate. Then he moves onto washing the rice, while Atsumu grabs the bell peppers.

Deciding now’s as good a time as any, Atsumu takes a deep breath and asks a question he’s been wanting to ask all week but hasn’t because he’s afraid of the answer.

“So, are ya gonna quit after the Interhigh, or?”

Osamu slowly turns his head toward Atsumu and eyes him warily. “No. I’ll keep playing ‘til we graduate.”

“And ya still wanna win as many trophies as possible?”

“Obviously. What’s the point of playing if yer not playing to win?” Osamu scoffs, directing his attention back to the rice.

Atsumu nods a few times, a hint of a smile creeping up on his lips. Satisfied with Osamu’s answers, he presents his peace offering.

“Have ya already looked at which culinary school ya wanna go to?”

“The one in Kobe looks good,” Osamu answers tentatively. “There’re two potential ones in Osaka too, but I don’t like their curricula as much.”

“Do they also have courses on running a business since ya wanna open yer own restaurant?”

Osamu glances at Atsumu, his defences still clearly up. “A few, but I think I’m gonna take some online classes too.”

“How long’s the degree?”

“The ones I’ve been looking at last three years.” Osamu’s wariness is starting to disappear as he realizes Atsumu’s being sincere with his questions. Finished with washing the rice, he puts it into the rice cooker to soak.

Atsumu moves onto peeling the carrots. “And are ya gonna boot up the restaurant right after ya graduate, or are ya gonna start off by working for someone else?”

“I’m not sure. Right now I’m thinking I wanna open the restaurant as soon as possible, but I might not feel ready for it right after I graduate. So, I might work for someone else for a bit to gain some experience.”

“Nah, yer gonna be fine. I think ya could open a restaurant right now.”

Atsumu notices a smile tugging at Osamu’s lips too before he wills it away. “Are ya stupid? ‘course I couldn’t open one right now. I don’t have any money, and ya need a license for it which takes a while to get. And who the hell would even want to go to a restaurant run by a seventeen-year-old with zero experience in foodservice?”

Atsumu swats at Osamu’s direction with a carrot. “I know, okay! That’s not what I meant! Can’t ya just let me be a nice, supportive brother?”

Osamu makes a face, but doesn’t bring up the fact that for the past week, Atsumu has been anything but. That’s how Atsumu knows Osamu’s ready to forgive him.

“Well, when ya eventually boot up yer restaurant, ya better have fatty tuna on the menu.”

Osamu rolls his eyes but can’t conceal his smile this time. “Alright, I promise.”

He takes out a frying pan and extends it toward Atsumu, who slides in the chopped vegetables from the cutting board. Osamu puts the pan on the stove and drizzles in some oil.

Atsumu leans against the counter and catches a glimpse of their parents peeking at them through the ajar door. They quickly avert their eyes, but there are soft smiles on their lips, and Atsumu has a feeling they’ve been eavesdropping on their conversation the whole time.

“When I’m a world-renowned athlete, I can model for yer ads. I’ll even do it for free! Assuming I get to eat at yer restaurant for free, of course.”

Osamu pretends to think about it for a few seconds. “I guess I can give ya the scraps for free.”

“The scraps? Excuse me, but my face is gonna be worth so much more than scraps.” Atsumu strikes a modeling pose, showcasing said face.

“Take it or leave it. If ya make too big demands, I’m just gonna pretend to be you and model for my ads myself.”

Atsumu throws a piece of carrot peel at Osamu. It misses and lands in the frying pan instead. Osamu shoots him a murderous glare, and Atsumu has the good sense to be a little scared—Osamu takes cooking seriously. Osamu picks the piece of peel out of the pan and flicks it back at Atsumu, the peel landing on Atsumu’s cheek. It isn’t hot enough to burn, but Atsumu flinches dramatically anyway, as if it had.

He considers retaliating, but figures that it’s best not to test Osamu’s patience in the kitchen.

“So, do ya have any ideas for what ya wanna serve at yer restaurant yet?”

“Nah, not yet. I have a lot of ideas, though.”

“I bet ya do. How are ya ever gonna decide on a menu when ya can’t even decide what bag of chips ya wanna get from a vending machine?”

As they work on the rest of the dinner, Osamu tells Atsumu more about what he has in mind for his restaurant—like how he wants to have a rotating menu so that he can try out different dishes, and the style he wants to use for the interior design.

If Atsumu had any lingering doubts about Osamu’s career choice, they’re gone now. The enthusiasm with which Osamu talks about his plans makes it evident that he’s made the right decision.

Their conversation continues over dinner, and their parents seem very pleased that things are starting to get back to normal. They even release them from their post-dinner clean-up duties.

“So, do I not gotta worry about ya holding a grudge over me quitting and ya burning down my restaurant when I open it?” Osamu asks as they walk up the stairs.

“Nah. I mean, it’s not completely off the table, so if I was you, I’d be careful not to give me any reasons to set yer restaurant on fire.”

Atsumu dodges Osamu’s elbow.

“But… I was never really mad at ya for quitting,” he says.

Osamu gives him a doubtful look over his shoulder before stepping into their room.

“Yeah, okay, I was a bit mad at first,” Atsumu admits, following Osamu and closing the door behind him. “It’s just… I just…”

“Jeez, spit it out already.” Osamu sits down on the edge of his bed and takes out his phone. Atsumu takes advantage of Osamu being distracted and tries to find a way to phrase his words in a way that doesn’t make him sound like a complete loser.

“I felt like ya were moving on in life without me—I was already kinda scared ya wouldn’t have any time for me after ya started sating Sunarin, and then ya told me yer gonna do yer own thing after high school, meaning yer gonna have even more stuff going on in yer life that has nothing to do with me.”

The words escape him in a blur. He already talked about this with Sakusa, but for some reason, with Osamu it’s much more nerve-racking. Osamu lays down his phone on the mattress next to him and leans forward, giving Atsumu his full attention.

Atsumu swallows. “And I guess I felt stupid for being so upset about us not doing everything together anymore when ya were completely fine.”

“Huh.” Osamu cocks his head to the side. “So it was better for yer ego to be angry like a petulant child instead of admitting yer feelings and dealing with it like an adult?”

“Shut up!” Atsumu aims a kick at Osamu’s shin, but Osamu counters the attack.

“So this was about me dating Rin?”

Atsumu shrugs. ”Not exactly. But it was a part of it, I s’pose.”

Osamu shakes his head. “That’s dumb. Dating someone doesn’t mean yer gonna ditch yer family all of a sudden.”

“I know! But people always talk like their partners are the most important people in the world—they’re literally called significant others. Ya can’t blame me for being a bit scared that yer also gonna be all about Suna. Especially in yer new adult life when yer busy with work, it wouldn’t be surprising if ya didn’t have time for anyone else.

“And I dunno… I guess a part of me’s scared that no one’s gonna have time for me when we’re all adults and all my friends are in relationships.”

Atsumu averts his eyes from Osamu’s and stares at the floor instead. “I thought you’d at least be stuck with me, but… yeah.”

Osamu scoffs under his breath. “Yer talking like yer not also gonna get into a rel—” He cuts himself off abruptly, frowning.

“Uh, whatever. What I’m tryna say is, when I get rid of ya, it’s gonna be because ya finally do something so brainless I’m too embarrassed to call myself yer brother. And based on all the stupid shit I’ve put up with so far, ya should know the bar’s pretty damn high.”

“I’d be more reassured if ya said if instead of when,” Atsumu murmurs, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, but knowing ya, it’s inevitable ya completely fuck something up at some point.”

“A lil’ faith would be nice!”

“Sorry, but I’m a realist.”

They fall back into a familiar rhythm of saying mean things to each other, but it’s just their usual bickering. The kind that Sakusa was talking about, Atsumu supposes—the kind that means they care.

After being called dumb in five different ways, Atsumu leaves to take a shower, but Osamu stops him when he’s stepping through the doorway.

“Hey, Tsumu. Let’s stay at the gym after tomorrow’s practice. I wanna try hitting those stopping sets of yers.”

“Good. I didn’t spend weeks perfecting ‘em just for ya to whiff all yer spikes.”

When Atsumu closes the door behind him, he’s grinning.

And so, Atsumu forgives Osamu for quitting volleyball and keeping it a secret for so long, though he never says it out loud.

Similarly, Osamu never says that he forgives Atsumu for how he reacted. They just know it. And soon they’re playing Pro Evolution Soccer again.

And that’s that.

Chapter Text

The rest of the school year after the Spring High always flies by for Atsumu. This year is no exception, March rolling around in what feels like the blink of an eye.

The end of the school year marks the third-years’ graduation, of course. Atsumu bravely holds back his tears while saying goodbye to his senpais, but then Kita just has to pull Atsumu aside and wish him good luck as the new captain, and Atsumu has to embarrass himself in front of his former captain one more time. Not that Kita seems to disapprove of Atsumu’s tears.

“I also wanted to say that even though I won’t be around school anymore, ya still have my number. Ya know, just in case ya need someone to talk to,” Kita says.

“Oh. Thanks, Kita-san,” Atsumu sniffs. Thanks for making me cry like a baby again.

The weather’s nice, so after bidding farewell to the third-years, the remaining players decide to buy ice-cream from the konbini next to the school and hang around at the park for a little bit. Kosaku can’t come, though, since he has plans with his girlfriend who he just started dating.

When the new school year kicks off, Aramaki returns from the spring break with news of getting a girlfriend too.

The start of a new school year also means that new players are joining the team. When the try-outs are done and the new players chosen by the coaches join practice for the first time, Atsumu is asked to say a few words to the team.

Unlike when Atsumu became captain and was asked to give a speech for the first time, this time Atsumu has come prepared and is much less teary. His speech is probably not as inspiring as Kita’s were, but it shouldn’t leave any doubts regarding their goals for the year—not trying their best to win, but winning.

Unsurprisingly, none of the new players make the starting line-up. Atsumu became a starter in his first year, of course, so it’s not unheard of. But all Inarizaki players are so good that there’s usually no need to put inexperienced rookies on the court.

In this year’s line-up, Aramaki replaces Oumimi as the other middle blocker, Riseki takes Aran’s place as one of the wing spikers, and Fujinami becomes the new libero.

During Golden Week, the team attends the annual spring training camp where the top five Hyogo teams are invited.

Atsumu’s sitting on the bus, waiting for the last team members to arrive so they can leave for Amagasaki where this year’s camp is held. Ginjima is the last to arrive, climbing onto the bus with a dopey expression.

“I’m in love,” he sighs happily and plops down next to Atsumu. Atsumu internally rolls his eyes and thinks, “Ah, another one bites the dust,” then actually processes what Ginjima said.

“What ?”

“I’m in love,” Ginjima huffs, as if offended that Atsumu didn’t catch it the first time.

On the other side of the aisle, Suna leans over Osamu to hear the conversation better. “Since when?”

“Since Friday.”

“Since Friday ?” Osamu quirks his brow. “Who the hell are ya in love with? During lunch on Friday, ya were complaining about how single ya felt when ya saw Aramaki’s lock screen photo with his girlfriend.”

“She’s a university first-year who’s working part-time at the café my mom frequents. She just started working there, so I haven’t seen her before, but she and I had a lil’ chat while she made my mom’s coffee, and I immediately knew she’s the one for me.”

Their conversation is briefly interrupted by Coach Oumi taking attendance. After confirming everyone’s present, he signals the driver, and the bus takes off.

“So. Lemme get this straight. Ya met this girl for the first time on Friday, and now yer in love with her?” Atsumu asks incredulously.

“It was love at first sight!”

Atsumu barks a laugh, not putting much effort into disguising it.

Ginjima squints at him. “What?”

“Love at first sight? Really? Isn’t that only a thing in the movies?”

“If it was, it wouldn’t have happened to me, would it?”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Well, if it was love at first sight, there’s no way it’s gonna last.”

“The hell, Atsumu?” Ginjima yelps, sounding offended.

“Yeah, that’s a bit too far, dude,” Aramaki agrees.

“What? All Ginjima did was go up to a random girl and ask her out. What are the odds he just happened to pick the love of his life?”

“Yer just being mean ‘cause yer jealous,” Ginjima says, sounding very sure of himself.

“I ain’t jealous!”

In truth, maybe Atsumu is a little bit jealous of Ginjima getting a girlfriend—not because he wants a girlfriend, but because it’s the normal thing to do.

Everyone around him is starting to get into dating now. Everyone either is in a relationship or wants one. Except for Atsumu. He’s not bothered about being single. Rather, he’s bothered about not being bothered.

Why the hell is that? Atsumu just wants some answers. Has he truly never had a crush, or has he just never recognized it? Why is he completely fine with never liking anyone like that, when everyone around him is obsessed with crushes?

He used to tell himself it’s just a matter of time before he starts feeling what everyone else is feeling, but it’s been years since his peers first began having crushes, and Atsumu isn’t exactly known for his patience.

“Sure ya ain’t jealous,” Ginjima scoffs.

“The hell would I even be jealous for? Apart from yer naivety. It must be nice not to have learned the harsh realities of life yet. I just hope yer heart doesn’t break too much when it doesn’t work out.”

Atsumu knows Osamu is signaling him to shut up by glaring at him, but if Atsumu doesn’t look at him, his twin might as well not even be on the bus.

There’s no hiding from Ginjima’s glares, though. “So yer being a jerk just for the sake of it, then?”

“All I’m saying is that love at first sight doesn’t make any goddamn sense. Ya don’t know a single thing about the other person at first sight, so how the hell do ya fall in love with ‘em?”

“I did know something about her, though. I saw her, so I knew she was really pretty, and—”

“Wow, how deep,” Atsumu deadpans, not feeling like listening to Ginjima wax poetic about some girl he’s known for a few days but who’s apparently the love of his life.

“What do you find so weird about this, though?” Suna butts in. Ginjima nods enthusiastically, glad that someone’s backing him up. “I agree that calling it love at first sight is a bit overdramatic.” Ginjima’s grateful smile turns into a betrayed frown. “But attraction isn’t rational. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense why you like someone. You just do. That’s just how it works, right?”

“Exactly,” Ginjima says.

Aramaki and Kosaku also hum in agreement.

“Right, I’m wrong, I get it. In that case, I wish y’all the best, Ginjima-kun. I’m looking forward to the wedding,” Atsumu says, voice dripping in sarcasm, and grumpily turns his head to stare out of the window.

Ginjima says something, probably something smug about winning the argument, but Atsumu filters it out.

Atsumu misses it when his friends were only talking about dating. He used to complain about it, but now that they’re actually dating, it’s even worse.

Them dating isn’t so terrible, per se, even if it has slightly changed their friend group’s dynamics. But it so clearly highlights that there’s something different between Atsumu and his friends. It used to be easier to pretend the difference didn’t exist, but now, every time someone talks about their partner and the joy of dating, it’s rubbed in Atsumu’s face.

And honestly, it makes Atsumu feel dumb. It’s like he’s colorblind, and everyone around him keeps talking about colors. Except that Atsumu doesn’t know he’s colorblind, so it doesn’t make any sense to him why everyone seems to see something he doesn’t. And no one else knows he’s colorblind either, so they treat him like an idiot when he can’t tell red from green.

The thing is, Atsumu has no idea what colors even stand for in that metaphor. What is it that he’s not seeing?

The bus ride isn’t a great start to a week Atsumu was already antsy about. It feels like his first true trial as the captain. While it’s only a training camp and they won’t be playing any actual matches, their opponents there are the ones they’ll be playing against when the real tournaments kick off. So, it would be great in terms of team morale and self-confidence if everyone performed well, and as the captain, Atsumu feels a certain level of pressure to ensure everything goes well.

Therefore, it’s only natural that when Fujinami keeps stepping in the hitter’s way after receiving the ball, Atsumu’s a little harsher than usual when telling him to stay out of the way. And when Aramaki’s block is full of holes, who can blame Atsumu for staring daggers at him? Or when Osamu is a fraction of a second too late in his approach, Atsumu can’t help but call him a useless scrub. Though there’s nothing unusual about that.

Osamu keeps shooting him warning glares, clearly aware that Atsumu’s patience is running thin, but the glares only serve to make Atsumu more pissed off.

Riseki in particular seems to be playing it way too safe. Now, Atsumu knows Riseki has a history of chickening out in high-pressure situations, and lashing out at him will only make him more nervous. He knows that, but it still irks him to no end.

“I know ya can do better than that, Riseki-kun,” Atsumu says after the first time Riseki’s serve is only in-bounds, as Kita used to say.

After the second time, Atsumu gives him a stern look. “Riseki, stop holding back.”

After the third time, Atsumu’s patience finally runs out. “Are yer arms tired or what?” he snaps at Riseki during a short break. “A pre-schooler could get more power behind their serves.”

“No, Atsumu-san. I’m just… not feeling very confident right now,” Riseki says, fidgeting with his water bottle.

“No shit. But I thought ya got over this at the Spring High.”

“Well, it’s just that now that I’m in the starting line-up, it feels like I’ve got more to lose,” Riseki explains nervously.

“And ya think ya won’t get benched if ya keep giving the opponents a free ball every time ya serve? Guess what? If yer serve’s so easy to receive that the opponent gets a clean attack and scores, we still lose a point ‘cause yer serve sucked. Might as well lose the point trying to score one.

“Or is it better for yer fragile self-worth to half-ass yer serves ‘cause at least if the serve’s in bounds, ya can blame someone else if we lose the rally?”

“N-no!” Riseki stammers at the same time Osamu steps in. “Tsumu,” he says emphatically and gives Atsumu a light shove in an attempt to shut him up.

It doesn’t work. “Besides, what the fuck does it matter if ya screw up now? Now’s when ya practice so ya don’t screw up in a match that actually counts. Isn’t that what Kita-san always preached about, too?”

“Atsumu-kun, I think Riseki-kun got yer point,” Coach Kurosu steps in.

“Yes, sir,” Atsumu mutters and lets Riseki scurry away.

In the evening at their accommodation, Coach Kurosu asks Atsumu to lay down everyone’s futons. That’s usually the first-years’ job, but Atsumu figures this is the punishment for his out-of-line behavior.

He’s halfway done when Osamu strolls in, plopping down on one of the futons Atsumu has already rolled out.

“Ya better not complain about having to do this. I’m surprised Coach didn’t give ya a public humiliation for yelling at Riseki like that.”

Atsumu doesn’t reply as he takes another mattress out of the closet.

“I talked to Riseki, by the way,” Osamu continues. “Told him not to listen to what yer big dumb mouth spews out.”

“If only he listened to me,” Atsumu scoffs. “Then I could stop nagging at him.”

Osamu sighs. “Dont’cha think there are more constructive ways to give criticism?”

Atsumu keeps putting the futons in place in silence.

“Ya know, it wouldn’t hurt to apologize to the team,” Osamu tries again.

Osamu watches Atsumu lay down three more mattresses, then sticks out his foot to trip him.

Atsumu glowers at him, finally opening his mouth. “I’ll apologize to the team when they apologize to me for playing like shit.”

Osamu stares at him blankly for a few seconds, then mumbles, ”Why do I even bother with ya?” and leaves Atsumu alone.

When he’s done with the futons, he picks one for himself in the corner and sits down.

To: Omi-kun
> hey! how’s your camp going?

From: Omi-kun
> It’s going pretty well. We’ve won all our practice games so far but there’s still room for improvement.
> Komori keeps telling me to be nicer though. I think I almost made one of the rookies cry today, but I just gave him some honest feedback.

Atsumu smirks as he types his response.

To: Omi-kun
> ikr!?!? like how is it my fault if i hurt someone’s feelings cause they suck and i tell them so

He doesn’t say a word to his teammates as they trickle into the room, but texts with Sakusa for a while.

The next day, his mood is improved, but it’s apparent that his teammates, especially the first- and second-years, are walking on eggshells around him. Somehow, they’re all afraid of making mistakes now.

Atsumu tries to be extra careful with his words for the rest of the camp, but his annoyance must seep through his words, because the younger players don’t seem very reassured.

Inarizaki, usually the favorite to win the Hyogo tournaments, leaves the camp looking like underdogs. It’s safe to say the training week isn’t a huge success for Atsumu as a captain.

The phone calls between Atsumu and Sakusa have become an almost-weekly thing. It’s always Atsumu who calls, but Sakusa picks up most of the time.

This time, they’re talking about the Interhigh preliminaries. Both of their teams won their respective prefectural tournaments with relative ease. Riseki was a nervous mess for the first two sets of Inarizaki’s first game, but while Atsumu might be inexperienced as a captain, he’s a damn good setter, so he knew exactly what kinds of sets to give Riseki to build up his confidence on the court.

Atsumu remembers Kita telling him to “treat everyone with the same level of consideration and respect off the court as ya do on the court,” and during that first match, he understood exactly what his former captain meant. After the game, Atsumu made sure to praise Riseki’s performance in the final set—because Riseki did play really well once he got over himself—and now Atsumu appears to be in his kouhai’s good books again.

“Oh, by the way, Aran got into the Falcons! Isn’t that so cool?” Atsumu gushes, sitting cross-legged on his bed. “How about yer senpais?”

“Iizuna-san got into the Hornets,” Sakusa says.

“That’s great!”

”I also heard from Wakatoshi-kun that he got picked up by the Adlers.”

“Not very surprising. I bet they’re gonna put him in the starting roster right off the bat, too.”

“They’d be stupid not to. Their current opposite hitter is by far their weakest player.”

“Damn, not pulling yer punches, Omi-kun?” Atsumu chuckles.

“It’s true, no?”

“Hmm.” Atsumu thinks back to the most recent Adlers game he watched. “I suppose it is.”

Atsumu is suddenly reminded of something. “Actually, about Ushijima… Now, don’t freak out about me asking, but when we first talked about him at the youth camp, ya seemed kinda weird about it. What was up with that?”

“Huh?” Sakusa sounds confused before seemingly realizing what Atsumu is talking about. ”Oh, um. Well, it’s just that Komori used to constantly tease me about having a crush on Wakatoshi-kun. And not just him. Some of my other teammates did, too. Even Ikumi made a joke about it once when I said something about him. Everyone I talked to about him thought I liked him and kept ribbing me about it.

“I enjoyed his company every time we ran into each other at tournaments, and I respect him as a player, but I never had a crush on him. We’re not really even friends. But everyone thought I just didn’t want to admit to liking him. Even me telling them it wasn’t like that didn’t stop them from teasing me.”

“Are they still going on about it?”

“No, Komori’s moved onto… another topic to bully me about. Anyway, when you made a comment about me knowing a lot about Wakatoshi-kun, I thought you'd also say something about me having a crush on him. And I guess I... I appreciated it when you didn’t.” It sounds like admitting the last part physically pained Sakusa.

“Oh?” Atsumu smirks. “Well, trust me when I say that I’d be the last person to do that. I know exactly how annoying it is when people don’t believe ya don’t have a crush on someone.”

“It’s happened to you too?”

Atsumu huffs a laugh. “Yup. Last year, I literally had to make up a crush ‘cause my friends didn’t believe I’d never had a crush on anyone.”

“You’d never had a crush on anyone?” Sakusa asks, part surprised, part disbelieving.

Atsumu adjusts his position, feeling a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. “No.”

Sakusa stays silent for a beat. “And have you… Um, have you had a crush since?”

Atsumu shrugs. “I dunno. I mean, maybe,” he says, then freezes. He grows flustered, cheeks burning as he realizes he’s currently talking to his maybe-crush.

“Anyway, I… uh…” Atsumu stutters, desperately trying to find something else to talk about. “Speaking of the camp! There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask ya but I keep forgetting. I noticed ya washed yer hands like every 30 minutes.”

“What about it?” Sakusa asks warily.

“Do ya use a hand cream or something to keep yer hands soft? My fingertips always get all dry and cracked during winter, and washing them just makes it worse. I’ve been tryna find a good hand cream, but none of the ones I’ve tried work that well.”

“Oh. Well, I use one from the local pharmacy. I’m not sure if you can get it elsewhere in the country, but you can order it online, at least.”

As Sakusa gives his product recommendations and other advice on how to keep your hands from drying out, Atsumu relaxes, the conversation having shifted back to more comfortable ground.

Atsumu tells Sakusa that his dad is going to start teaching him and Osamu how to drive soon. Sakusa talks about the universities he’s started to look into.

Atsumu was a bit surprised when Sakusa first mentioned he’ll go to university before joining the professional volleyball leagues, but apparently it’s what his parents wanted, and he couldn’t help but agree that it’s good to have a plan B.

However, after they end the call, it doesn’t take long before Atsumu’s thoughts return to Sakusa’s question—”You’ve never had a crush on anyone?” That’s a question Atsumu can’t seem to get out of his head nowadays. And isn’t that ironic? He used to roll his eyes at others for obsessing about crushes, and now he’s the one who can’t stop thinking about the matter.

He blames his stupid friends who just had to go and start dating.

Every time he sees Aramaki run up to his girlfriend after practice and wrap her in a hug, Atsumu thinks, Don’t I want that too?

Whenever Kosaku rhapsodizes about his girlfriend and how much he likes her, Atsumu tells himself, Surely I’ll feel like that someday too.

Or when Ginjima talks about all the plans he has with his girlfriend—who he has lasted at least a month with—Atsumu asks himself, Can’t I see myself doing all that with Sakusa?

It’s the second to last week before summer break, and today is the first time Osamu is staying the night at Suna’s since they started dating. Atsumu and Osamu’s parents were hesitant about allowing the sleepover, but Osamu managed to talk them round in the end. The process of negotiation involved a lot of promises from Osamu not to do a variety of things, half of which he is probably going to break.

Osamu has a dental check-up and has to skip today’s practice, so they decided that after practice, Suna would go with Atsumu to the twins’ house and Osamu would meet his boyfriend there.

When Atsumu and Suna start walking to the bus stop, Atsumu realizes this is the first time in forever he’s spent any time with Suna alone.

He thinks back to his chat with Sakusa when he was fighting with Osamu, and how talking to a friend made him feel better. Perhaps he should open up about his current internal struggles to someone too.

However, he can’t talk about it with Sakusa, for obvious reasons. He knows Kita offered to listen to him if he ever needed someone to talk to, but Atsumu would rather die than discuss these things with his old captain. Osamu seems to finally have given up on bugging Atsumu about crushing on Sakusa, so there’s no way Atsumu’s giving Osamu a reason to continue teasing him by bringing it up.

But there’s one thing in particular Atsumu has been wondering about, and Suna might just be the best person he knows to help him with it.

“How didja know ya were bisexual?” Atsumu blurts out. He instantly regrets it, a blush rising to his cheeks. Suna’s already staring at him, though, so there’s no taking it back.

“You’re asking me ?”

Atsumu’s cheeks grow even redder.

“Can I not?” he asks petulantly, crossing his arms in an effort to hide his embarrassment.

Suna shrugs indifferently. Damn him and his nonchalance. “I just didn’t figure we were that kind of friends. I mean, we’ve never had a serious conversation about anything.”

Atsumu uncrosses his arms and throws them in the air in exasperation. “Well, I’m sorry, then! I won’t do it again.”

Suna rolls his eyes. “Chill out. Why do you have to be so dramatic? I never said I wouldn’t answer. I’m just surprised, is all.”

Their bus arrives, and they get on. When they’re seated, Suna continues talking.

“At first, I was really confused. You kind of grow up assuming you’re straight. And I thought I was. I mean, I thought girls were cute. But then I got my first real crush, and it was on a guy, so I figured I must be gay. But it just didn’t sit well with me. Then I thought I was in denial about being gay, but I never pegged myself as someone who’d have a problem with that.”

Huh. Sounds exactly like what Atsumu’s going through. Especially the being confused part.

“And then I did some research and found out about bisexuality. It all just… clicked. Like that was the answer I’d been looking for the whole time.”

“I see.”

Suna looks at Atsumu curiously. “So, what brought this on?”

Atsumu shrugs. “I’ve just been wondering if maybe I like a guy. I mean, guys.”

“Uh-huh,” Suna smirks.

Atsumu gives him the side-eye before continuing. “But I think there’s no difference between what I feel towards girls and what I feel towards guys.”

“Well, the definition of bisexuality is more or less that you’re attracted to both men and women. It can be as simple as that.”

Atsumu nods, but in his mind he grabs Suna’s shoulders and shakes him in frustration. There’s nothing simple about that. It couldn’t be more unhelpful, actually.

“By the way,” Suna continues. “One thing I read on a lot of sites when I was figuring things out myself, and that might be helpful to you too, is that it’s also totally fine not to have these things figured out. Labels are kind of like tools to help you understand and express yourself. I was relieved when I realized I was bi, and labeling myself as bi was… comforting, I guess.

“But labels aren’t for everyone. If you don’t feel like any label fits you, you don’t have to use them. You can like guys without labeling yourself as anything.”

“Right.”

“Or a guy,” Suna winks and dodges Atsumu’s kick.

“For real, tough. You don’t necessarily have to ask yourself which genders you’re attracted to. You can just think about if you like that one person specifically.”

Atsumu supposes that’s meant to be reassuring, but it just sends him back to square one. The entire reason he asked Suna about his sexuality was to determine whether he’s attracted to one person specifically. But apparently it doesn’t work like that.

He considers asking how Suna knew he was attracted to Osamu but decides he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Sooo…” Suna drawls. “Wanna tell me who this gay awakening of yours is?”

“There’s no gay awakening,” Atsumu scoffs. “I toldja, I’m just wondering in general.”

Suna hums, but doesn’t push the subject further.

They get off the bus and walk the short distance to Atsumu’s house. It doesn’t take long before Osamu comes back from the dentist too.

“I’m surprised they didn’t have to pull any of yer teeth out,” Atsumu quips as Osamu packs his overnight bag.

“Yer the one with a sweet tooth. If anyone’s getting their teeth pulled out, it’s you.”

Atsumu sticks his tongue at Osamu. “I hope I get the same dentist for my check-up in two weeks. Then I can ask them which of us has taken better care of our teeth.”

“You’d lose. I floss my teeth and use mouthwash way more often than ya do.”

“I can confirm that Samu’s oral hygiene is excellent,” Suna smirks. “He always tastes nice and minty.”

Atsumu scrunches his face up in disgust. “Ew! Never say shit like that again.”

Suna snickers and winks at Osamu, who blows a kiss to his boyfriend.

Osamu finishes packing, and soon the gross couple is on their way to Suna’s house.

“Remember all yer promises to Ma and Pa!” Atsumu yells after Osamu. “Would be a shame if ya betrayed their trust!”

The last thing Atsumu sees before Osamu and Suna disappear out of his sight is Osamu flipping him off over his shoulder.

It’s not long until Atsumu’s parents come home from work. They cook dinner together, which is always a bit weird without Osamu hustling around the kitchen. After dinner, Atsumu suggests they watch Arrietty the Borrower. It’s one of the few Studio Ghibli films Atsumu hasn’t seen yet, and when Sakusa found out about that, he was outraged.

“It’s one of my favorite Ghibli movies, but it’s criminally underrated. You really should watch it,” Atsumu remembers Sakusa telling him, so he’s watching it now.

After shedding a few tears at the ending of the film, Atsumu and his parents wish good night to each other and retire into their respective bedrooms.

Atsumu is tired after an intense week of practice, but he’s struggling to fall asleep. In the quiet of the night, his thoughts keep circling back to his conversation with Suna.

“It might be more useful to think about if you like that one person specifically,” he said.

Atsumu’s been doing that for months at this point, though, but still has no idea how he’s supposed to know that.

Atsumu fishes out his phone from where he keeps it under his mattress, and types in the search bar, how to tell you have a crush on someone.

He looks at the results and opens an online article titled 6 Questions to Ask Yourself If You Think You Have a Crush.

He skims through the introduction, jumping straight to the questions.

Do you think about them frequently? Sure. Atsumu often finds himself thinking things like I bet Sakusa would like that, when he sees some item at the store, or That sounds like something Sakusa would say, when he sees a grumpy character in a TV show.

Do you want to spend all your time with them? Not all his time, but a lot of time, yes. Atsumu really enjoys their calls, and he’s already looking forward to seeing Sakusa again at the Interhigh in September.

Do you want to learn all about them and their life? Yes. Atsumu loves getting to know Sakusa better, especially learning about his hobbies and interests outside volleyball.

Do you feel jealous if they spend time with someone else instead of paying attention to you? Yes? If Sakusa started spending much less time texting and talking with Atsumu because he found a better friend, Atsumu would probably feel a bit jealous.

Do you feel butterflies in your stomach when you’re with them? No. It’s been a while since Atsumu last saw Sakusa in person, though, so maybe he would if they met again?

Do you find them physically attractive? Not really.

Atsumu puts his phone away, but keeps thinking about the last question.

The thing is, Atsumu has never paid much attention to Sakusa’s physical appearance. Sure, he knows what he looks like, but it’s almost like Atsumu’s only ever looked at Sakusa, not truly seen him.

Sighing, he gets out of bed and feels around for the desk lamp's switch. He winces as the light hits his eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness.

He silently rummages in his desk drawer until he finds what he’s looking for.

He takes out the January issue of Monthly Volleyball—the most recent issue with a spotlight on the Itachiyama Institute volleyball team. He skims through the contents and flips to the page he’s looking for. It’s a standard article, made before each tournament on the team expected to win gold.

There are three pictures accompanying the article, one of which is the reason Atsumu sought out this issue. The picture is an action shot of Sakusa serving. He has just tossed the ball, gaze pointed upward as his eyes intently trail it, face set in calm focus.

Atsumu sets the magazine on his desk, sits down, and looks at the picture. Like, really looks at it. He feels like such a creep for it, but it’s for science, so he forces himself to study the boy on the page.

Sakusa’s hair is a bit of a mess and could use a trim, but it looks glossy and soft, and the curls frame his face kind of nicely.

The proportions of his face are just right. He has a straight, elegant nose. His almost black eyes, framed by long lashes, stand out beautifully against his pale skin which is unblemished apart from the two moles on his forehead.

His physique is as good as you would expect from someone so devoted to volleyball. He’s tall, and he has also really grown into his height. Like most teenagers, he probably used to be lanky and awkward, but there’s no sign of it anymore.

Looking at Sakusa’s picture, Atsumu has to acknowledge he’s very good-looking. There’s no two ways about it.

Having concluded his scientific research, Atsumu shoves the magazine back into the drawer. He turns off the light and climbs back into his bed.

Alright, Atsumu thinks Sakusa is attractive. That means he answered five out of the six questions in the online article affirmatively. Now what? Atsumu supposedly has feelings for Sakusa, but he sure as hell isn’t feeling anything.

Atsumu thinks about the butterfly question, which is the only question he said no to. Is that the feeling he’s missing—the butterflies fluttering in his stomach? But what the hell even are these so-called butterflies? He’s heard people talk about them, of course, but they couldn’t be more vague about it if they wanted to.

Atsumu groans into his pillow. Why is this all so confusing? He talked with Suna and read the online article to get some answers, but he’s left with even more questions. He might as well flip a coin at this point. Heads, he has a crush on Sakusa, and tails, he doesn’t. Heads, he’s straight, and tails, he’s not.

Once again, he tells himself that maybe he just has to wait for the answers to come to him. But he can’t wait forever.

The summer break goes by quickly. First, the volleyball team attends a training camp in Osaka with the top teams from the Osaka and Kyoto prefectures as well as a university team from Osaka. The camp leaves Atsumu happy with the progress they’ve made since the rookies joined the team, though Coach Kurosu still gives everyone something they can work on during the break on their own.

After the training camp, Atsumu and his family visit the Akan-Mashu National Park in Hokkaido for a few days. Atsumu tests his luck with how many pictures he sends Sakusa, but the views are so gorgeous he can’t help but share them.

At the end of the break, they have another training camp, this one with the other power house schools in Hyogo again. Atsumu is pleased to see that everyone in his team seems to have practiced their individual focus areas.

When they go back to school, they only have two weeks of regular practice before the Interhigh, and those two weeks fly by.

Soon they’re on their way to the tournament, though the bus ride isn’t long this time, as the tournament is held in Kobe.

Their first match against Torano Academy is light work. The other team doesn’t even manage to reach the twenty-point mark in either set.

Their match on the second day will be in the morning. Atsumu checks the next day’s schedule to see if he can catch Itachiyama’s match in the afternoon, but the Tokyo team also has their match in the morning. An idea pops into Atsumu’s head, and he takes out his phone.

To: Omi-kun
> hey! congrats on your win today!
> i just noticed your next game’s gonna be in the morning like ours! do you have free time in the afternoon?

From: Omi-kun
> Why do you ask?

To: Omi-kun
> do you wanna hang out? i’ve visited kobe a lot before so i could show you around!

Atsumu doesn’t get a quick reply this time. Sakusa’s probably in the middle of something and can’t keep texting. They’re back at their hotel by the time Sakusa replies.

From: Omi-kun
> Sure. I had to ask Coach Kajino for permission, but he said it’s fine as long as I’m back by eight.

Atsumu grins.

To: Omi-kun
> yay! ＼(* ⁀ᗜ ⁀*)／

They text for a few more minutes to plan the details. Atsumu goes to knock on his coach’s door to make sure he is okay with Atsumu spending the afternoon away from the team. After getting the green light, Atsumu skips back to the room he’s sharing with Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima, and tells them they’ll have to spend the afternoon after their game without his joyful presence.

Their second game starts at nine, so they have to be at the gym early. While waiting in the corridor for their turn to warm up, they run into a group of Itachiyama players, among them Sakusa and Komori. Atsumu goes to have a quick chat with them and to make sure he and Sakusa are on the same page about today’s plans.

After a few minutes, Osamu steps between Atsumu and Sakusa. Sakusa takes an instinctual step away from him, and Osamu quirks an eyebrow at Atsumu, as if to ask, “Yer seriously friends with this guy?”

“Rin and I talked and we figured that since we don't have anything to do this afternoon either, we could come with ya.”

Atsumu wouldn’t mind that. He doesn’t get to hang out with Osamu and Suna as much nowadays, so it’d be nice to include them in his plans with Sakusa.

He turns to Sakusa to ask if he’s fine with the other two joining, but he doesn’t have to—the sour expression visible behind Sakusa’s mask is answer enough. Atsumu knows Sakusa’s not a very social person, so just the thought of spending the afternoon with people he’s never talked to before is probably draining his social batteries.

“Nah,” Atsumu answers. “It’s been ages since I last saw Omi-kun, and I have to tolerate yer faces every day. Besides, yer supposed to be my bag holder.”

Sakusa visibly relaxes, looking relieved that no one else is joining them after all. Osamu seems to notice that too, since he doesn’t argue, which he definitely would’ve done if it was just Atsumu’s opinion he was up against.

“Alright then,” Osamu says, shrugging. “But I never agreed to take care of yer bag.”

Coach Kurosu lets them know they can start their warm-ups, so Atsumu says goodbye to Sakusa and heads to the court, arguing with Osamu about the matter with his bag.

“Miya,” Sakusa calls out after them. Atsumu and Osamu turn around in unison. “Oh. Um, Atsumu,” Sakusa clarifies sheepishly.

Komori has to give Sakusa an encouraging nod before Sakusa says anything. “I don’t want to have to watch you sulk all afternoon, so you’d better win.”

Komori buries his face in his hands, Sakusa apparently not saying what Komori had in mind, but Atsumu grins. “Likewise, Omi-kun,” he yells, then runs after his teammates.

Their match against Sagiyama High goes to the third set, but they secure the win comfortably in the end. Once Atsumu has taken a quick shower and changed into his casual clothes—a plain black t-shirt and denim shorts since it should be a warm day—he joins his teammates in the bleachers to eat his lunch.

When Sakusa sends him a message that he’ll be ready soon, Atsumu gobbles up the rest of his bento and has one final argument with Osamu who threatens to leave Atsumu’s bag at the gym.

Then Atsumu makes his way to the lobby, where Sakusa is already waiting with Komori.

“Hi!” Atsumu greets them and jogs the remaining steps. “Are ya gonna join us, Komori-kun?”

Komori lets out a giggle. “Oh, no. I just came to see my dear cousin off.”

“Well, after you then, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says and gestures toward the door.

Sakusa starts toward the exit, Atsumu falling in step behind him. Sakusa gives Komori one more pointed look over his shoulder, though. “Don’t let anyone touch my stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guard your bag with my life.” Komori raises his arm in a playful salute, then winks and yells after them, “Have fun!”

“Thanks, Komori-kun. We will!” Atsumu grins and waves Komori goodbye. Sakusa bids his cousin farewell with a scowl.

“Alright. First we’re gonna take the subway to the Shin-Kobe station and take a short walk to the Nunobiki Falls from there,” Atsumu explains when they step outside.

“The subway?” Sakusa asks with distaste.

Atsumu winces—he had a feeling Sakusa wouldn’t be the biggest fan of public transport. “Should only take about half an hour,” he placates. “And ten minutes of that is walking!”

Sakusa doesn’t look too appeased by that but doesn’t voice more protests.

It doesn’t take them long to get to the subway station, and they only have to wait a minute for the train to arrive.

Fortunately, it’s not too packed inside the subway car. They find a row of empty seats, and Atsumu lets Sakusa settle into the seat next to the wall, so in case more people get on the subway, it’s Atsumu they’ll be sitting next to.

Opposite to them, there are three children seated with their parents. Sakusa stares at them warily, probably prepared to defend himself if one of the vicious creatures makes a move for him. Atsumu smirks when Sakusa unconsciously leans away from one of the kids when she drops her Hello Kitty purse and has to take a step toward Sakusa to pick it up.

Atsumu turns to Sakusa to make a quip about his fear of the children, but Sakusa leaning away from the girl means he’s now leaning toward Atsumu. Very close to Atsumu.

Atsumu gets flustered, suddenly hyperaware of who he’s hanging out with. He’s reminded of the night when he analyzed Sakusa’s looks through the photo in the magazine. Now that Sakusa’s right next to him, Atsumu finds himself staring at his features again, as if the face half-covered by a mask holds the answers to all Atsumu’s questions.

He spent time with Sakusa at the camp too, but it was different. They weren’t really friends back then like they are now. Atsumu didn’t think he might be crushing on Sakusa like he is now. Atsumu wasn’t nervous like he is now.

He thinks about the butterflies—is this that feeling? If that’s the case, the feeling is very underwhelming.

The girl retrieves her purse and Sakusa relaxes. He glances at Atsumu who quickly looks away. He blushes, feeling like he was caught red-handed. Sakusa squints at him, but doesn’t seem annoyed. Either he didn’t notice Atsumu staring, or he doesn’t mind.

Atsumu tells himself to calm down. There’s no reason to be nervous—he’s just hanging out with a friend. Even if he’s spent the last few months mulling over whether he has a crush on said friend.

They have to change the subway halfway through their journey. The second subway is much more crowded than the first one, but they only have to spend a few minutes on it.

“Alright, follow me,” Atsumu says after they’ve exited the train car.

He starts toward the path to the waterfalls, but when he’s turning around, Sakusa grabs his arm and pulls him back toward him. Confused, Atsumu looks behind him where a man, probably late for his shinkansen, rushes past them. If Sakusa hadn’t pulled Atsumu back, he would’ve stepped right in front of the man.

Atsumu looks back at Sakusa, who levels him with a flat look.

Atsumu shrugs. “Oops.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my tour guide, but apparently I’m your babysitter.”

“I didn’t see him!”

“You would’ve seen him if you’d looked where you were going.”

“I wasn’t looking for, like, one second! How the hell am I supposed to know people are practicing for the 100-meter sprint at the train station?”

Sakusa shakes his head, not looking convinced.

“Ya can let go of me now, by the way,” Atsumu says. “I promise to keep my eyes open from now on.”

Sakusa looks down at his hand holding Atsumu’s arm as if he forgot he grabbed it, and lets go like Atsumu zapped him.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, a faint blush visible behind his mask.

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m glad ya noticed the guy running at me. He looked like he totally woulda lost his shit if I’d stepped in his way.”

Atsumu pointedly looks around him before moving his feet this time. “Now, follow me.”

When they step out of the train station, the clouds have disappeared from the sky and the sun is shining brightly. Atsumu puts on his sunglasses and starts leading the way to the waterfalls.

“It’s only about 20 minutes there, so we should be back at the station in an hour,” Atsumu explains. “I thought we’d then take the bus to the harbor.”

Sakusa’s face mask lifts slightly as he scrunches his face at the mention of getting back on public transport, but he nods, seemingly approving of the plan.

They walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Sakusa stops to take something out of his backpack.

“Oh, ya brought yer camera?”

“No. What makes you think that?” Sakusa replies dryly, holding what is very obviously a camera in his hand. He pulls his backpack on again and slips the camera strap over his head.

Atsumu chortles. “And ya brought jokes too, I see. Ya know, the camera reminded me that ya promised to send me some of yer photos, but ya never did.”

“I promised to do it at some point,” Sakusa says, tinkering with the camera settings as they continue their walk.

“Yer like a genie sometimes,” Atsumu chuckles. “Gotta be real specific when saying something to ya.”

Soon, they arrive at the first waterfalls. “Ta-da!” Atsumu says, spreading his arms like he’s making an announcement. ”We have arrived at the Mentaki Falls.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes at Atsumu’s fanfare, but the gesture is more amused than annoyed.

They look around the place for a couple minutes, and Sakusa snaps a few pictures, before they start making their way to the next waterfall.

After about fifteen minutes of walking and chatting, they reach their destination. Atsumu introduces the second waterfall much like the first one. “The Mentaki Falls are nice, but the Ontaki Falls right here are what everyone visits this place for.”

Other people, mostly tourists, have come to look at the waterfalls too, but it’s not too crowded, so Atsumu and Sakusa get to observe the water streaming down the rocks in relative peace.

Atsumu leans against the railing and takes a deep breath, listening to the calming mix of falling water and birdsong. He rarely has the patience to stay still for long, but it’s places like this that make even him want to slow down and just take in the nature around him.

For a little while, that is.

“Do ya travel outside the city often?” he asks Sakusa when the unchanging view in front of him is starting to bore him.

There’s no response, though. “Omi?”

Atsumu turns his head, searching for Sakusa. He catches him standing behind him, holding his camera in front of his face. Sakusa immediately lowers the camera, but it’s pretty obvious what he was doing.

Sakusa starts saying something but Atsumu cuts him off. “Show me!” he grins and skips to Sakusa, who presses the camera protectively against his chest.

“C’mon,” Atsumu pouts. “Ya promised you’d show me some of yer photos, and this one’s of me! I think I deserve to see it.”

Grudgingly, Sakusa shows the screen of the camera to Atsumu. In the photo, Atsumu is leaning against the railing, his back to the camera but his head turned to the side. In the background are the waterfalls, of course, but Sakusa also managed to capture a seagull, wings outstretched as it glides over Atsumu’s head. Sunlight casts a warm glow over the scene, its rays filtering through the gaps in the trees around them.

Atsumu looks at the photo with wide eyes for a few seconds, then at the photographer. “Omi! This is great! I didn’t even notice the seagull, but it looks so cool flying over me.”

Sakusa pulls the camera away to stop Atsumu from gaping at it. “I just got lucky with the timing.”

“But ya must’ve had so little time to take the photo, and ya still managed to crop it perfectly. And the lighting looks so good too!”

“It’s alright,” Sakusa mutters.

Atsumu lets out a chuckle. “Damn, Omi, we gotta work on yer compliment-receiving skills.”

“I’m just saying it’s not that impressive. What’s more impressive is that you were able to stay still long enough for me to take a good photo of you.”

“Well ya didn’t give me a heads up! If I knew someone was taking photos of me, I’d stay as still as a statue. I’d make an excellent model.”

“Hmm, probably. I’m sure you’d enjoy the attention. But I’m also sure all that attention would go straight to your head, and if your ego inflates any more, it might explode.”

“There’s nothing wrong with loving yerself,” Atsumu huffs.

“Guess not, but there’s a difference between self-love and self-importance,” Sakusa mumbles.

“Hey, I heard that!”

They gawk at the waterfalls for a few more minutes before beginning their descent back to the train station, from where they take a bus to the harbor.

There are no empty seats this time, so they have to stand. Atsumu feels like he should apologize for the murderous glares Sakusa shoots at the other passengers every time the bus turns and someone sways a bit too close to him—and Atsumu’s not even the type to usually offer apologies.

Fortunately, Sakusa’s uneasiness lifts when they get to the harbor and Atsumu shows him around some of his favorite spots. Still, Atsumu’s glad that the hotel Sakusa’s team is staying at is within walking distance of the harbor. He’s not sure Sakusa’s self-control could take another bus ride packed with people with no concept of personal space, and he’d rather not have to witness a homicide.

“So, how’s driving practice going for you?” Sakusa asks when they sit down on a bench to rest their feet.

“It’s going great! I’m a natural, obviously, and way better than Samu,” Atsumu boasts. “It’s a shame I don’t have my license yet. I coulda driven ya around instead of dragging ya onto public transport.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I don’t like public transport, but you can’t really avoid it entirely. It just reminds me every time that I don’t like people.”

“Really, ya don't like people? Who’d have thought?”

Sakusa gives him a scowl. “Besides, I’d much rather travel in a crammed bus driven by a professional than in a car driven by you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I bet you’re one of those people who make really impulsive decisions while driving and treat speed limits like suggestions. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t get road rage.”

Sakusa looks at Atsumu as if daring him to say he’s wrong, which Atsumu can’t exactly do, because Sakusa is mostly right. Fortunately, Atsumu isn’t known for his honesty.

“I’m a perfectly reasonable driver, thank you very much,” Atsumu says, puffing out his chest. “You’d be delighted to have me as yer personal driver.”

He checks the time on his phone and is surprised it’s getting close to five—time has really flown by.

“Ya said ya need to get back by eight, right? Do ya wanna get dinner together?”

“Coach Kajino said I need to be back by eight, but I also need to get my homework done tonight.”

“So you’ll have dinner with me!” Atsumu beams like the matter’s been settled. “We can go right now. It’s a bit early, but we’ll avoid the dinner rush and you’ll still have time to do yer homework. And if we eat in the harbor, we can catch the sunset by the sea.”

Atsumu accompanies his charming grin with his best puppy eyes.

“Fine,” Sakusa sighs, but his irritation doesn’t seem genuine. “But I’m a picky eater. I don’t know if you can find a restaurant I approve of.”

“Yer a picky eater?” Atsumu gasps. “I love all food passionately—I dunno if we can be friends anymore!”

“Well, I can eat most foods. I’m just particular about what I like,” Sakusa is quick to clarify.

“I was just joking, Omi-kun. I know a few really good places around here, so I’m sure we can find something to yer tastes. And if there’s something ya don't like in yer dish, just give it to me and I’ll take care of it.”

Atsumu searches his mind for restaurants he’s been to with his family that Sakusa might like. “Oh, there’s this really good ramen place close by.”

He pulls up the menu on his phone. Sakusa’s curls tickle Atsumu’s cheek as he leans close to Atsumu to look at the screen.

“Seems okay,” Sakusa decides after reading through the dishes.

“Trust me, it’s not just okay. Their tantanmen is to die for.”

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

Sakusa ends up approving of the food, and when they leave the restaurant, the sun is about to set, painting the sky and the sea in pretty shades of pastel pink and orange. Sakusa takes his camera out again and snaps a few pictures of the landscape. With that done, they begin the walk to Sakusa’s hotel.

It takes them only 15 minutes to get to the hotel, and Atsumu finds himself wishing the walk was longer.

“Um, thanks for showing me around,” Sakusa says somewhat awkwardly at the doors.

“No worries!” Atsumu replies cheerfully, albeit also a little sheepishly.

Atsumu is about to say goodbye, but Sakusa opens his mouth at the exact same time, so neither ends up saying anything.

Atsumu huffs an amused laugh. “Well, good luck for yer games!”

“Thanks. Good luck to you, too.”

Atsumu starts backing away. “I’ll see ya in the finals,” he grins before turning around and heading for his hotel.

Atsumu will not see Sakusa in the finals. On the third day, they eliminate Date Tech in the third round—which serves the Miyagi team right since they denied Atsumu the thrill of playing against Karasuno’s freak duo—and Takagiyama in the quarterfinals.

However, on the fourth day, Mujinazaka get their revenge against Inarizaki, who eliminated them at the previous Interhigh, and send the Hyogo team home after the semifinals.

This defeat feels worse than any previous loss in Atsumu’s life for multiple reasons. It’s even worse than losing their first match at the Spring High.

Firstly, now that Atsumu’s the captain, the burden of blame feels heavier than before. Secondly, he was really looking forward to playing against Itachiyama. He truly felt like they could’ve beaten them this time, but apparently they didn’t have enough strategies to counter Mujinazaka’s plays. Thirdly, there’s a clock ticking in the back of his mind, counting down the time left to win a national tournament with Osamu. Now he only has one more chance.

Atsumu and Osamu’s parents came to watch the game, too. It’s the first and probably the only time they can come to watch them play in a national tournament, and of course Atsumu couldn’t even take his team to the finals.

They change out of their sweaty jerseys and gather in a small meeting room, where Coach Kurosu gives a short briefing about the game while they wait for their bus to arrive.

“Atsumu, would you like to say something?” Coach Kurosu asks after he’s finished.

Atsumu would absolutely not like to say anything, or maybe it’s that he has so much to say it’d be better to keep his mouth shut to keep it from spewing out words he’ll regret later. But he knows it’s expected of him, so he stands up and turns to his teammates.

“Well, I don’t really know what to say,” he begins lamely, trying not to let his disappointment seep out. “Don't blame yerselves? There’s always room for improvement, so I ain’t saying we didn’t do anything wrong. But today was just one of those days when our opponent was better than us.”

The words fall flat even to Atsumu’s ears, and he can tell none of his teammates are fully listening to him. He can’t help but think Kita would’ve known exactly what to say.

Then he can’t help but think that if three of his serves hadn’t landed out of bounds, maybe he wouldn’t have to give this stupid speech at all. Or if he hadn’t flubbed the first two freak quicks with Osamu. And what the fuck was up with his pathetic attempt at a setter dump at the end of the second set?

Huh. No wonder Atsumu’s words rang hollow.

“The thing is,” he continues, not trying to hide his chagrin this time. “I say that, but I’m sure as hell still gonna blame myself.

“I could tell ya not to let the defeat get to ya. But I’m probably not gonna sleep a wink tonight ‘cause I’m so pissed. I could tell ya to be proud we made it into the top four.” Atsumu lets out a humorless laugh. “Ya already know I’d be full of shit if I said that.”

“Who am I to tell ya any of those things? I’d be such a hypocrite. I can’t lead by example, so do as I say, not as I do, I guess. But I know none of ya really wanna listen to me either.”

Atsumu notices multiple heads bob in agreement, and it takes everything in him not to cut his speech short to tell them off. Yes, he’s the one who brought it up, but it doesn’t mean the others can just outright admit it.

“However, I can beat myself up for losing today all I want, but that doesn’t change anything. This wasn’t our last game of the season. All we can do is make sure we don’t lose the rest of our games.

“And I ain’t saying ya should take the frustration yer feeling ‘cause we lost and turn it into positive energy and determination to win next time. Today’s loss shouldn’t make any difference, actually. Ya can just forget about it. ‘Cause even if we had gone to the finals and lifted the trophy, I woulda been just as hell-bent on winning the next tournament.

“I’m gonna go back home, work my ass off, and become so good no team can beat us—not ‘cause we lost today, but ‘cause I wanna fucking win, goddammit.”

Atsumu realizes his voice has steadily risen during his rant, and a few tears of frustration threaten to fall down his cheeks. He shifts his feet awkwardly, suddenly remembering it’s his team he’s all but shouting in front of. Well, at least he’s being sincere now.

“And all of ya better do the same thing,” Atsumu concludes grumpily, whispering his apologies to the coaches for cursing and sitting back down.

Assumu has no idea if his words made any sense to the others, or if they just made him look like an emotional child throwing a tantrum after not getting what he wanted. When he glances at his teammates, they don’t seem to be biting back mocking remarks, but they’re also not saying anything—everyone’s just staring at the ground in front of them. Atsumu’s starting to feel uncomfortable in the silence following his rant.

Osamu’s the one to break it. “Who needs memories, right?” he smirks. Atsumu rolls his eyes, and someone lets out an unimpressed snort of laughter.

Atsumu doubts his speech lifted anyone’s mood, but at least Riseki has stopped crying. Whether it’s because of Atsumu’s speech or because Riseki ran out of tears to shed, Atsumu doesn’t know. But he decides to take the credit for it—he deserves at least one success today.

And maybe it’s just Atsumu’s imagination, but his teammates seem more angry than sad when getting on the bus.

Atsumu is moodily staring out of the bus window, when Ginjima prods him. Atsumu slowly takes his headphones off, making sure his irritation is apparent.

“Ya never told us how yer date with Sakusa went.”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well?” Ginjima goads, wiggling his eyebrows.

Atsumu can feel his blood pressure rising. He’s really not in the mood for this right now. What’s up with Ginjima annoying Atsumu during bus rides these days?

Atsumu musters all his self-control not to yell at Ginjima, and grits through his teeth, “It wasn’t a date, but it went well. Thanks for asking.” He gives Ginjima an overly sweet, fake smile.

“Right,” Ginjima drawls. “Ya just went out—”

Surprisingly, it’s not Atsumu who interrupts Ginjima’s teasing.

“Gin,” Osamu snaps from the other side of the aisle. “He said it wasn't a date.”

Ginjima blinks, not expecting Osamu to step in. “I was just joking.”

“Yeah, I know. But let it go, ‘kay?”

Ginjima nods slowly, taken aback by Osamu’s interference. “Okay.”

Atsumu truly wasn’t in the mood to debate with Ginjima, but now that Osamu’s diffused the situation, Atsumu wishes he hadn’t—bickering with Ginjima might’ve been a good way to blow off some steam.

He glowers at Osamu. “I can handle myself, y’know.”

“I’m sure ya can, but I don’t wanna listen to yer bitching right now.”

Osamu denies Atsumu any opportunity to provoke him into a fight by leaning against Suna’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Atsumu pretends to gag, not that Osamu can see it, and puts his headphones back on.

The next day, Atsumu watches the final match between Itachiyama and Mujinazaka tucked in bed. It’s a grueling one, four of the five sets reaching a deuce. In the end, Itachiyama, ever the perennial champion, squeezes out the win.

To: Omi-kun
> congrats on the win

From: Omi-kun
> Thanks. You seem very genuine.

To: Omi-kun
> i do mean it. but we WILL get your asses in the spring

Sakusa for once shows a sign of kindness and doesn’t point out that Atsumu’s said the same thing a million times before and has never lived up to it. Maybe Atsumu should say something nice in return.

To: Omi-kun
draft: hey, i had a great time hanging out with you on thursday

Atsumu writes out the message, but doesn’t send it.

Ginjima joked about it being a date. Suna clearly knew Atsumu had Sakusa in mind when he asked him about bisexuality. Osamu used to tease Atsumu about crushing on Sakusa. And Atsumu did have a great time hanging out with him.

Could this be one of those situations where Atsumu’s oblivious to his feelings, but they’re obvious to everyone else?

To: Omi-kun
draft: hey, i had a great time hanging out with you on thursday. next time we meet, wanna make it a date? (>ᴗ•)

Atsumu looks at the message for a few seconds, then deletes it.

To: Omi-kun
draft: btw, i really enjoyed spending time with you. what do you say we call it a date next time? :)

Atsumu writes, deletes, and rewrites the message a few more times. Eventually, he gives up, groaning and tossing his phone onto the mattress.

“Ya good?” Osamu asks from his desk where he’s working on an assignment.

“No,” Atsumu mutters but refuses to elaborate.

Technically, Atsumu and Sakusa have already been on a date. Obviously it wasn’t a date, but a couple could easily go to all the same places and do all the same things they did in Kobe and call it a date.

Then why does the thought of going on a date make Atsumu so damn uncomfortable? His heart is racing and his hands are shaking simply because he thought about asking Sakusa on a date. Is he just nervous because he likes Sakusa? But if that's what the butterflies feel like, Atsumu doesn’t want them. In fact, he’s starting to think he doesn’t want the stupid butterflies at all.

He wraps the blanket tightly around himself and closes his eyes—if he takes a nap, he doesn’t have to think about a thing. He’ll sort through the mess in his head some other time.

Chapter Text

When practice kicks off again after the Interhigh, the whole Inarizaki volleyball team has an air of determination to it. Atsumu staying to practice his serves after official practice ends is nothing new, but more often than not someone else stays behind at the gym too. Fujinami occasionally asks if he can practice receiving Atsumu’s serves before going home. Aramaki and Riseki ask if Atsumu can toss to them for a little bit so that Riseki can practice his spikes and Aramaki can practice blocking them. Even Suna gets some extra practice in when Atsumu wants to practice the quick attack with Osamu and Suna decides to stay to practice his blocks and receives too.

With everyone working their asses off, the image of Inarizaki lifting the trophy at the Spring Tournament is clear in Atsumu’s mind.

If only Atsumu’s mind was as clear off the court as it is on the court.

He sort of hoped he’d take one look at Sakusa at the Interhigh and have an epiphany that he likes him, so he could finally dispel the confusion that won’t stop gnawing at him. But it’s safe to say that didn’t happen.

A week before the twins’ birthday, Osamu spends the night at Suna’s again. This time he got permission much more easily than the first time—him coming back from the first sleepover not covered in hickeys was seemingly good enough a reason to convince their parents that there’s no need to worry.

After dinner that night, their mom suggests they watch a movie together like they did the last time Osamu was away, but Atsumu says he doesn’t feel like it tonight. He asks if he can borrow his mom’s laptop instead, hoping she doesn’t ask what Atsumu needs it for. She doesn’t, and Atsumu makes his way to his room with the laptop.

Atsumu shouldn’t get caught since Osamu isn’t at home and his parents always knock before coming into the twins’ room. Atsumu turns the laptop on his desk so that the screen isn’t immediately visible from the door anyway, just in case his parents barge in for whatever reason. Then he boots the laptop and makes sure he knows how to clear the browsing history.

Atsumu scoffs at himself—he’s acting like he’s going to watch porn. He knows there’s nothing weird or wrong with what he’s about to do, but he’d still rather no one caught a glimpse of what he’s doing.

He opens the browser and types into the search bar, sexuality test.

Maybe he should’ve taken one earlier—it seems like the obvious solution to his predicament. But it also feels like a cheap shortcut. There’s no way a random test on the internet can determine his sexuality when he himself hasn’t been able to figure it out even after months of ruminating.

Atsumu’s starting to run out of options, though. He’s not expecting to get a definitive answer, but maybe a test can offer him a new perspective.

He looks at the search results and chooses the Am I Bisexual, Straight Or Gay? quiz.

The first question is about who he has or could see himself dating. The options are Someone of the same gender, Someone of the opposite gender, and Gender doesn’t matter to me. Atsumu already knows there’s no difference in what he feels toward different genders, so the third option probably describes him the best.

The next question is similar— Who have you or who could you see yourself kissing? Now that he thinks about it, Atsumu doesn’t really see himself kissing anyone, but he clicks the Gender doesn’t matter to me option again.

You see an attractive member of the opposite gender in a coffee shop. What do you do?

Atsumu knows what Ginjima would do—fall in love with them—but Atsumu’s not sure he’d do anything. He supposes he might acknowledge they’re attractive, so he chooses the option, I’d think ‘Wow, they're really good looking.’

Here’s where Atsumu confusion really comes into play. An attractive member of the same gender seems to be flirting with you. What's your reaction? Atsumu answers that he’d politely refuse or ignore them, but something doesn’t seem right. Because if he wouldn’t flirt with an attractive girl at a coffee shop, and he’d turn down a guy flirting with him, who does that leave him with?

Atsumu goes through the rest of the questions, the last one being Have you had a crush on someone of the same gender? He answers, Maybe , and finishes the quiz.

You got: Exploring or Bi-Curious.
You identify as heterosexual but are curious about emotional or physical attraction toward people of the same gender. 

Talk about unhelpful. Atsumu didn’t have high expectations coming into this, but he can’t help but be a little disappointed with the test. He’s not surprised the result itself is useless, but he hoped the questions would be more helpful.

The text on the webpage goes on to explain that it’s okay to be unsure of your sexuality, and that there's no need for strict labels. That’s what Suna talked about too. He said that Atsumu doesn’t have to use labels if none of them fit him.

The thing is, none of them fit him, but Atsumu really wishes one of them did. The confusion and uncertainty are killing him. But what if a suitable label simply doesn’t exist?

Atsumu goes back to the search results. He might as well take another quiz, not that he expects it to be any more insightful.

He opens a page titled Sexuality Test and sighs at the first question—What gender or genders do you feel physically attracted to? Again, how is he supposed to answer that question when he doesn’t know what physical attraction feels like?

Then he reads the answer options, and pauses. One of the options is, I do not feel physically attracted to anyone. It’s the first time there’s an option that fits Atsumu perfectly. Well, it’s still possible Atsumu has felt physical attraction and just didn’t realize it, but he tentatively chooses that answer. 

The next question is, What gender do you crush on the most frequently?

For the millionth time, I’m not sure I’ve had a crush, Atsumu thinks frustratedly before realizing that’s one of the options—I rarely or never have crushes.

This quiz also has a question about who he can see himself kissing. In the previous quiz, Atsumu said that he’s fine with kissing any gender, but this time there’s an option that he’s not interested in kissing anyone. Atsumu chooses that one.

Atsumu keeps going through the questions, and his answers are always similar—I’m not interested in dating, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with anyone flirting with me, and I’ve never thought about a perfect first date. What the hell does that make him? A psychopath?

For some reason, Atsumu’s nervous when he clicks the Finish the Quiz button and waits for the results page to load. When he took the previous test, he had an inkling his result would have something to do with bisexuality. Now, he has no idea what to expect.

The page finally loads, and in big, bold letters the result appears on Atsumu’s screen.

You are asexual.  

Atsumu frowns. Asexual? He’s never heard of that orientation.

As an asexual person, you experience little to no sexual attraction, regardless of gender.

That’s a thing? Atsumu thought everyone experiences that. Well, he can’t say he has, but he thought it was just him. Does this mean there are other people like him too?

Atsumu closes the quiz and makes a new search, this time typing in asexuality into the search bar.

He clicks the first link. The page behind it offers a similar explanation to the term—asexuals experience little to no sexual attraction. It also states that most asexuals still feel romantic attraction and desire romantically intimate relationships, but they don’t usually express intimacy through sexual activity.

Atsumu doesn’t really understand. Is there supposed to be a difference between sexual and romantic attraction? And he experiences the latter but not the former? Does that mean he can date but he doesn’t want sex?

He thinks about it for a moment and supposes that it makes sense. He doesn’t want sex. He doesn’t really want to date anyone either, but maybe that’s because he always associated it with involving sex. Would he be interested in dating if he knew the relationship wouldn’t involve sex? The answer is probably still no.

He goes back to the search results and chooses another page, this one answering common questions about asexuality. Perfect—Atsumu has plenty of questions. The first question especially catches his eye.

Can asexuals fall in love?
Many asexuals experience crushes, though they are usually characterized by romantic attraction instead of sexual attraction. However, some asexuals are also aromantic. Aromantic people experience little to no romantic attraction. A person who is both asexual and aromantic is often called aroace.

Oh. So it’s possible for someone to be averse to both sex and dating?

Atsumu crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. He fixates on the small mark he accidentally made on the wall while trying to smear Osamu’s face with a marker ten years ago, using it as a focal point to help him think.

In theory, Atsumu has his answer. He has no idea what the difference between sexual and romantic attraction is, but he’s pretty sure he’s never experienced either. Nor does he mind ever experiencing them. But this feels almost too good to be true.

Is Atsumu just looking for an easy way out? He doesn’t know who he likes, so he settles for liking no one? Or maybe he’s so frustrated with having to wait for his first crush to pop up that he tells himself there won’t ever be a crush, just so he can stop holding his breath.

Can he even know something like this yet? He’s still only seventeen, and he’s never given dating a try. Sure, his friends clearly started feeling attraction years ago, but isn’t it still possible that Atsumu is simply slower in this regard?

Atsumu scoffs at himself. How many times has he told himself that he’s tired of waiting for the answers to come to him, and now he’s telling himself that maybe he needs to wait some more?

According to the webpage, you don’t need to try sex to know you’re asexual, and Atsumu assumes it’s the same with romance. The page says nothing about an appropriate age to know you’re asexual, though.

He keeps browsing and finds a forum where asexual people have shared their experiences. A lot of them say they realized they were asexual around Atsumu’s age, and even years later, they still identify that way. So, Atsumu’s age shouldn’t be a problem.

As Atsumu reads people’s messages about the confusion they felt growing up, about feeling like the odd one out, he can’t help but smile. He can relate to so many of them. Someone even says they had to lie about having a crush, just like Atsumu. 

So there are other people like Atsumu out there—people who don’t experience attraction the same way most people do. Most of the people on the forum seem to be women, though. Is it weird for Atsumu as a guy to be asexual?

Atsumu’s mind is starting to feel overwhelmed with all the new information he’s absorbed in the past hour. He clears the browser history and turns off the laptop. The room becomes quiet as the laptop shuts down, but the processor in Atsumu’s head is still running at full speed.

He slips into his pajamas and goes to the bathroom across the hall. Brushing his teeth, he stares at himself in the mirror.

Who knew an online quiz could be so helpful after all? For the first time since Atsumu started questioning his identity, he’s left with more answers than questions. Even if he still has plenty of questions.

It just feels like such a big commitment. And it’s all so sudden—before tonight, Atsumu had never even heard the words asexual and aromantic , and now he’s thinking he might be both. 

He spits out the toothpaste into the sink and decides to sleep on the matter. It would be nice to be rid of the uncertainty for good, but Atsumu still considers this a huge improvement.

Atsumu might not be ready to call himself aroace, but ever since he first heard the word, it feels like something’s fallen into place inside him. It’s like he was looking at the world all wrong, but now he sees everything more clearly.

He used to see Aramaki embrace his girlfriend after practice—lift her off the ground and bury his face in the crook of her neck— and think, Don’t I want that too? Now he scrunches his nose at the thought of being hugged like that and thinks, Why would I want that?

He used to listen to Kosaku wax poetic about his girlfriend and assure himself that he’d feel like that about someone too. Now he realizes he’s perfectly fine never feeling like that.

And when Ginjima tells about the plans he has for a date with his girlfriend, all Atsumu can think is he’d rather just hang out with his friends. 

Even when he looks at Osamu and Suna, he can’t convince himself he wants what they have, and those two seem really happy together. Realistically, there’s nothing about their relationship Atsumu shouldn’t want for himself. If he wanted a relationship in general, that is.

He can’t completely shake off that sliver of doubt, though. Yes, it seems like he ticks every box on the list of things to look for if you think you’re aroace, but now he’s wondering if he only thinks that way because he wants a conclusion and this is the fastest route to it. He tried to make himself believe he’s gay and bisexual, too.

Then again, when he pondered if he was gay or bisexual, the question felt like a constant weight in the back of his mind. It made him so confused, because nothing he experienced backed up his hypotheses. But the more Atsumu allows himself to believe he’s aroace, the lighter he feels. He’s known something’s different between him and everyone else, but he never knew what and why. Now things are finally starting to make sense. 

Atsumu remembers Suna telling him that labels are meant to make you feel better, and he sure as hell feels better. It feels like he’s in a good mood for the first time in a year. Not that he was in a bad mood before, but… well, it’s like a weight he didn’t even realize was there has been lifted off his shoulders.

The twins’ birthday falls on a Saturday this year, so they decided to celebrate with their friends during the day at the arcade where Atsumu and Osamu are currently headed. In the evening they’ll go out for dinner with their parents and Suna.

Suna’s had dinner at Atsumu and Osamu’s house before, but this is the first time they’ll get together since Suna and Osamu started dating. Atsumu secretly hopes Suna’s at least a little nervous about it underneath his cool and composed exterior. This is technically the first time meeting his boyfriend’s parents, after all. Atsumu doubts it, though—Suna never seems to stress about anything.

Atsumu knows he’d be a bundle of nerves if he had to meet someone’s parents officially like that. He can admit that his social skills might still need a little bit of work, but he can usually stay relaxed even in a big group of people he’s never met before. However, meeting someone’s parents is quite different from casually hanging out with people.

Then again, there might never be anyone whose parents Atsumu needs to meet. The thought makes him smile.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Osamu asks.

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’ve been in a weirdly good mood lately.”

“Am I not allowed to?”

“No, yer only allowed to suffer,” Osamu jibes. “It’s just that you’ve been weird this year. Especially before the Interhigh. One moment ya seemed fine, and the next something tipped ya off and ya moped for the rest of the day. It was like something was constantly on yer mind.

“I was boutta ask about that, but something must’ve happened ‘cause now it’s suddenly the opposite. I’ll catch ya randomly smiling at yerself instead of moping.”

Atsumu shrugs. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Osamu staring at him intently, clearly waiting for an answer. Osamu has said that Atsumu can talk to him about anything, and Atsumu knows he could talk to his twin about this too. But he doesn’t feel ready to tell Osamu something he’s still so unsure of himself. He wants to figure things out before he’s ready to share them with others.

So, instead of answering, Atsumu asks, “Have ya ever kissed a girl?”

Osamu looks like he would’ve just spit out his drink if he was drinking something. “What?”

Atsumu repeats the question though he knows Osamu caught it the first time.

“Um, no.”

“Aren’tcha ever curious if you’d like it if ya tried?”

“Ya don’t always need to try something to know ya don’t like it.”

Atsumu hums, hiding his smile in his collar.

“What about being confused about yer feelings toward girls? Like, have ya ever thought a girl was cool and had to think really hard about whether ya had a crush on her?”

By the look of him, Osamu has no idea what Atsumu’s on about and is currently considering smacking some sense into him, but he decides to humor Atsumu anyway. “Not really. I mean, maybe when I was younger, but not after I got my first crush on a boy.”

“‘Cause it’s so obvious when ya have a crush on someone, right? There’s no way ya could have a crush on someone and be completely oblivious to it?”

“Hmm, I guess. It did take me a while to realize I had a crush on RIn, but that’s probably ‘cause we were already friends.”

Atsumu feels a smile tugging at his lips again. Perhaps he should’ve asked Osamu about these things sooner. Atsumu thought Suna was the best person to consult, but maybe he was the worst. Suna doesn’t know what it’s like to have a gender you don’t feel attracted to, but Osamu does, and it sounds like what Osamu feels toward girls is what Atsumu feels toward everyone. 

Osamu points at Atsumu’s face, where he must have spotted Atsumu’s smile. “See? There it is again.”

Atsumu immediately straightens his face.

“It’s kinda cold today, no?” he muses.

“Yer making no sense today.”

“I’m just saying I could use a little warming up. I’ll race ya to the arcade.”

After Atsumu takes off, he hears Osamu call him an idiot, but he doesn’t have to turn around to know that Osamu’s right behind him.

Most of their friends are already waiting at the arcade when they arrive. Once everyone’s arrived and bought their tokens, they make their way to the machines. As they squabble over who gets to play which game first, Atsumu’s reminded of his and Osamu’s birthday last year.

It was the birthday party where he was forced to lie about having a crush on Aochi and his stupid teammates went and told her about it. By the time of the birthday, Atsumu had already taken note of his peers being more into sex and romance, but the Aochi incident is what really set his identity crisis in motion.

And now, a year later, he’s so close to the conclusion of said crisis that he can taste it.

Inarizaki avoids the first round of the Spring High qualifiers, having been seeded straight into the top eight. They’ve managed to overcome all the difficulties they faced in the Interhigh qualifiers, so when their turn to play comes in the second round, they secure a spot in the Spring Tournament with flying colors. They drop one set in the finals, but that’s it.

A couple of weeks after the prefectural finals, Coach Kurosu has an announcement to make at the start of practice.

“Before we start, I have some news. Ashitama University, along with some other universities in Tokyo, is going to organize a training camp in December. They’ve invited a group of talented high school third-years and university first-years. The idea is to improve the quality of Japanese collegiate volleyball and to advertise it to high schoolers.

“Atsumu-kun, you’ve been invited.”

Comments like "Obviously," and “‘Course he has,” and “What a surprise,” echo around the gym.

Kurosu looks at Atsumu. “I know ya don’t plan on going to university, but I think this is still a great chance to—”

“I’ll go!”

The coach chuckles. “Great.”

Then he turns his attention to Suna. “Rintarou-kun, ya also got an invitation.”

This piece of news is received with silence, the mouths of their teammates falling into silent o’s instead of forming sarcastic remarks. Even Suna’s face shows a hint of surprise.

Osamu doesn’t look fazed, though.

“Rin, that’s great!” he smiles and squeezes Suna’s shoulder.

Atsumu can’t say he’s very surprised either. Even if Osamu’s considered their ace this year, Suna’s been racking up a good number of points too.

“Stop looking so confused.” Atsumu throws his arm around Suna’s shoulders. “I know it’s hard to stand out on a team with me on it, but they’d need to be blind not to see that yer really good.” 

Osamu smacks Atsumu in the head. “Can ya stop being a self-absorbed idiot for one second?”

“Ow!” Atsumu removes his arm from Suna’s shoulders to rub at the sore spot on his skull, and shoots  Osamu a glare.

Suna ignores the twin commotion around him. “Do I have to decide now?” he asks their coach.

“‘Course not. Just let me know by next week.”

Practice takes everyone’s mind off the training camp invitations, but during the break, Atsumu approaches Suna.

“Suna! Ya gotta come to the camp with me.”

“I don’t gotta do anything. And I need to think about it anyway.”

“But ya gotta,” Atsumu pouts. “Besides, it can’t hurt, no? Why wouldn’tcha attend?”

“Well, for starters, the camp’s gonna be filled with highly motivated people like you.” Suna gives a mock shudder at the thought. “But I also don’t really know what I wanna do after high school yet. It’s easy to decide to go to the camp when you know you’re not going to university. But even if I wanna go pro, I probably have to go to university first.”

“Well, isn’t this the perfect opportunity for ya then?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity to practice volleyball, yes. But I’d also have to spend a week away from school, and it’s no use being good enough to get into a collegiate volleyball team if I don’t get into university first. I’ll probably go to the camp, but I want a little time to think about it before I make the decision.”

“But—”

“Oi, stop badgering him,” Osamu, who’s clearly been eavesdropping their conversation, butts in. He tries to hit Atsumu’s head again—aiming at the already sore spot, the bastard—but this time Atsumu’s ready and dodges the attack.

At home, Atsumu takes a photo of his invitation and sends it to Sakusa.

To: Omi-kun
> [photo]
> did you get this too?

From: Omi-kun
> Obviously I got it too. You don’t think you’re better than me, do you?

Sakusa’s instant reply means that he must not be doing anything important right now, so Atsumu calls him.

“Obviously I think I’m better than ya,” he says when Sakusa picks up, not bothering with a greeting. “And I’ll prove it to ya in a month.”

“Right. I’ll have to bear with your company again in a month,” Sakusa sighs, but at this point Atsumu knows him well enough to know that he’s not actually annoyed. He tells Sakusa so, and though Sakusa denies it, Atsumu knows he’s right.

"And guess what? Suna got invited too!"

“Oh. Um, okay.”

“What’s with the unenthusiasm?” Atsumu chuckles. “Ya got a problem with Suna or something?”

“I just assumed you’d be the only player from your team to be invited, so I was surprised. Of course I don’t have a problem with Suna. I don’t even know him.”

“Well, you’ll get to know him at the camp. We can all hang out together.”

“Hmm.”

“And maybe they’ll room me with Suna this time.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

”’Cause if Satou’s been invited and I hafta spend another week in a room with him, I might lose my mind.”

“Do you have a problem with Satou, then?”

“Wait, did I never tell ya about him? Omi, ya don’t understand. At the Youth Camp, he would not shut up about his girlfriend.”

Atsumu goes on a rant about Satou, stopping only when he realizes that ranting for ten minutes about someone constantly talking about their girlfriend is probably only a little bit less irritating than someone constantly talking about their girlfriend.

The news of the camp only adds to Atsumu’s good mood. Unfortunately, a watched pot never boils, so it feels like an eternity before Atsumu is back at the Shin-Osaka station, waiting for his train to Tokyo, much like a year ago. Though this time Suna, who ended up deciding to attend the camp, is going to board the train with him. And this time Osamu is there too, though Atsumu has a strong feeling Osamu isn’t there for his twin.

“I’m gonna be mature and not be offended at the fact that ya didn’t bother to see me off last year but came to see Sunarin off,” Atsumu says in a not-so-mature tone.

“I had to be at school last year.”

“Wouldja have come if ya hadn’t had a morning class?”

“No,” Osamu replies matter-of-factly.

“What a shitty brother I have. I’m glad to be rid of ya for a week.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

Atsumu sticks his tongue at Osamu. “How are ya gonna survive a week without yer boyfriend, though?”

Osamu’s countenance drops—only a little, but enough for Atsumu to notice. “Well, it’s not long ‘til graduation, and we’re probably gonna live in different cities after that. We’ll be lucky if we go only a week without seeing each other. So we’d better survive this week.”

Right. Atsumu’s glum about not being able to see Osamu every day after they move out, but Osamu must feel just as low about not getting to see his boyfriend every day. Atsumu can only hope Osamu feels similar about having to be apart from Atsumu as well.

“But we’ll be fine,” Suna says, mostly to Osamu, and gives him a small smile.

After a few more minutes of waiting, their train arrives. Atsumu gets a hug from his mom, and Suna gives Osamu a chaste goodbye kiss. Then they step on the train and soon they’re off to Tokyo.

Ashitama University is one of the best universities in the country, in terms of both academics and their volleyball team. Therefore, Atsumu isn’t surprised that both the campus and the volleyball gym are top-notch.

The lobby of the gym is already filled with boys carrying duffel bags and wearing different colored tracksuits. Atsumu sees many familiar faces, among them Satou Wataru, who cheerily greets him when he and Suna step inside.

Atsumu introduces Suna to Satou and asks his former roommate how his girlfriend is doing as a joke. Five minutes into Satou's answer, Atsumu’s beating himself up for being such a fool. Suna doesn’t even pretend to be listening, scrolling on his phone instead. However, his blatant disinterest doesn’t do anything to diminish Satou’s enthusiasm.

Fortunately, Sakusa and Komori step into the lobby then, so Atsumu excuses himself not-so-politely and skips to the Itachiyama players, Suna trailing after him.

This camp has twice as many participants as the Youth Camp last year since both high school and university students have been invited. There’s no room for visitors to stay on the campus, so the camp attendees are staying at a nearby hotel.

Atsumu’s assigned roommate is Suna, fortunately. Someone else will have the pleasure of sharing a room with Satou this time.

After going through the practicalities, the coaches give a short welcome speech and explain what plans they have for training.

“To start things off, let’s play some one-set games,” one of the coaches—Ashitama University’s assistant coach—says. “We’ll switch teams after every round, so use this opportunity to get to know each other a little bit.”

There are enough players to run two games simultaneously. So many of the invited high school players attended the Youth Camp that Atsumu always has someone he’s played with before on his team. For the first set, that’s Mochida. For the second set, that’s Hoshiumi. Fujiki for the third, and for the fourth set, he gets to play with Sakusa.

Atsumu knows that at this point, he can demand the best from his hitters since they’re all warmed up after playing three sets already. So, as the game goes on, Atsumu keeps setting the ball to Sakusa a little higher each time. Many others would complain that Atsumu’s putting the ball too high, but Sakusa rises up to the challenge and jumps a little higher each time to meet Atsumu’s tosses.

Sakusa makes it exceptionally clear when Atsumu sets the ball a little too far away from the net for his liking, though.

Atsumu and Sakusa finish off the set with a backrow attack they’ve never done together before, but pull off flawlessly anyway. The ball swooshes between two collegiate players and hits the floor right before the end line with a smack. Komori dives for the save, but is half a second too late.

The players on their side give them a chorus of “Nice kill!” Atsumu grins at Sakusa and instinctively raises his hand for a high five, not remembering who it is he’s trying to high-five.

Sakusa eyes Atsumu’s hand for a second, then tentatively slaps it with his own. 

Mochida and Kondo, who experienced Sakusa’s unwillingness to high-five at the Youth Camp, ogle at the gesture. Hoshiumi crosses the court to them in two massive leaps. “Sakusa! Why don’t you ever high-five me?”

Sakusa winces, probably half because he didn’t take into account that other people might demand high-fives from him now too, and half because Hoshiumi’s yell is ear-shattering.

“I’m afraid of losing my hearing if I get close enough to you for a high five,” Sakusa mutters.

Atsumu snickers, but Hoshiumi doesn’t seem to have heard the jab at him. “What?” he shouts, taking a step closer to Sakusa.

Sakusa takes two steps away from Hoshiumi and lets out a heavy sigh. It might be just Atsumu's imagination, but he swears he sees Sakusa’s right eyebrow twitch. “Nothing.”

Hoshiumi raises his hand, looking back and forth between it and Sakusa. Sakusa looks anywhere but at him.

“Atsumu would’ve sulked like a kicked puppy all day if I’d left him hanging,” he finally says. “I did all of us a favor by high-fiving him.” Then he turns on his heels and walks away.

“Better luck next time, Kourai-kun,” Atsumu jests and goes after Sakusa.

“Ya called me Atsumu,” he smirks.

“That’s your name.”

“But does this mean yer past calling me Miya ?” Atsumu asks, trying to mimic the half-exasperated tone Sakusa usually says his surname with.

“At the Interhigh I called after you, and your brother thought I was talking to him. It causes less confusion if I call you by your first name.”

“Samu’s not here, though,” Atsumu teases.

“Alright, then, Miya. Whatever you prefer.”

“No! Omiii, I take it back,” Atsumu pouts, but the coaches declare it’s time for the final practice match just then, so Sakusa ignores him and walks away.

After the final set is done, Atsumu plops down on one the benches, taking a large gulp from his water bottle. Sakusa soon approaches him and sits down next to him, his knee bumping against Atsumu’s.

“So, Omi-kun, watcha say about a rematch?”

Sakusa takes a swig from his own bottle. “A rematch of what?”

“Of our service ace contest last year. The one with the most service aces at the end of the week wins.” Atsumu can feel the thrill of competition in his veins even though Sakusa hasn’t even accepted his challenge yet. But Atsumu knows he will.

“Last year the competition was only for a day. If we’d counted all aces throughout the entire camp, I definitely would’ve won.”

“Um, ya definitely wouldn’t have. But that’s beside the point, ‘cause the competition was only for one day, and I won that one fair and square.”

“Well, enjoy that win while you can. I’ll get the win this time.”

Atsumu grins. “Yer on.”

Atsumu looks up to find Suna staring at them flatly. Atsumu raises a brow in question.

“Highly motivated people,” Suna says with a hint of disgust in his voice, as if that explains everything, and trails off to do his stretches.

Atsumu gets up and skips after him. “We can let ya in on the competition too.”

“No thanks.”

“Hmm, I guess ya wouldn’t stand a chance anyway. Ain’t that right Omi-kun?”

Atsumu turns to Sakusa, but he has chosen a spot for his cool-down routine with Komori, too far away from Atsumu to have heard what he said. Sakusa’s looking at Atsumu anyway, but when Atsumu catches his eye, he quickly looks away and says something to Komori.

Atsumu asks Suna what he thought of the first day of camp, and they carry the conversation over to dinner. Suna is about to go sit with some of the other high-school students attending the camp, but Atsumu leads them to an empty table so that Sakusa and Komori can eat with them.

Sure enough, soon the Itachiyama players join their table, and Atsumu’s hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s exactly like last year at the Youth Camp, with the addition of Suna. Atsumu smiles to himself—he has a feeling this will be a good week.

By the third day of camp, Atsumu’s fallen into a comfortable routine. The day starts off with breakfast, followed by morning practice. Then they have a lunch break during which Atsumu has time to work on his assignments. The lunch break is followed by afternoon practice, after which Atsumu showers and heads down for dinner. The evening he spends with Suna in their room, though his roommate spends more time talking with Osamu on the phone than with Atsumu.

On the fourth day, they focus on serving. They’re in the middle of a simple serving drill, everyone taking turns to serve five times.

They’ve been divided into three groups, one for each court in the gym. Atsumu’s in line behind Suna, who’s currently getting his serves in.

Suna has spent their third year practicing his jump serve. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, but his jump serve hasn’t been reliable enough to be used in games yet. However, now his serve is as good as Osamu’s, and Atsumu’s sure Coach Kurosu will give Suna the green light to forgo the overhand serve in favor of the jump serve at the Spring Tournament.

It’s almost Atsumu’s turn when he catches Sakusa looking at him from the other side of the gym. Atsumu shoots him a grin with his tongue out and winks. Keep looking. Yer gonna realize ya have no chance in our competition when ya see me serve. After all, Suna’s not the only one who’s been working on his serves this year.

Sakusa quickly looks away, though, pointedly staring at the floor instead of at Atsumu. Oh, c’mon. How dare he deny Atsumu the chance to show off?

When Suna steps away from the serving spot, Atsumu measures out six steps from the end line, closes the distance with three running steps, jumps, and slams the ball. When he lands back on the ground, he turns to look at Sakusa again. This time it’s to make sure he didn’t see Atsumu’s serve, which didn’t make it over the net.

The rest of his serves are more successful, and during their practice matches in the afternoon, Atsumu gains three points in his and Sakusa’s competition. Too bad Sakusa gains four, all of them against Atsumu’s team, no less.

After practice is over, Atsumu makes his way to Sakusa and Komori. The former greets him with a smug smirk that makes it clear he knows he holds the first place in their competition. But that’s only for now. Atsumu still has three days to catch up to him.

Komori gives Atsumu a pat on the shoulder. “Good games!” he says, before walking away. Atsumu gives his back a confused look, but doesn’t say anything.

He brings it up with Sakusa during dinner, though.

“Have I offended Komori somehow?” he says jokingly and breaks his chopsticks apart.

Sakusa frowns. “What makes you think that?”

“I dunno. He doesn’t seem to have an issue with me, but I swear he’s avoiding me. He always leaves when I come to talk to ya guys. And he never eats with us anymore.” Apart from dinner on the first day and lunch on the second day, Komori hasn’t joined Atsumu and Sakusa’s table for his meals.

“I doubt it’s anything you’ve done. He just… wants to socialize. He says he’s hit it off well with Suna.”

“It seems like it. He keeps stealing Suna away from me.” Atsumu was excited to have an opportunity to spend more time with Suna at the camp. However, not only has Komori started to share his meals with other people, but he also drags Suna with him most of the time. Not that Suna seems to mind. 

Sakusa nods awkwardly. “Maybe they… um, prefer to spend time in a bigger group.” He lowers his gaze to his plate. “You can join them too if you want. You don’t have to sit here with me.”

“And leave ya here all by yerself? No way. I’d rather eat with ya anyway. I share a room with Suna—I don’t gotta eat every meal with him too.”

And it’s true. Atsumu and Suna are roommates, so Atsumu gets to talk with him more than they do at home despite not eating together. Besides, under normal circumstances, Atsumu gets to talk with Sakusa even less, so Atsumu doesn’t mind spending most of his time at the camp with him.

“Well, I, um… appreciate it,” Sakusa says, slowly lifting his eyes back to Atsumu.

Atsumu flashes him a smile. “Who wouldn’t? I’m such a delight to be around.”

Sakusa arches a brow, looking unimpressed, but the faint tug at the corners of his mouth doesn’t go unnoticed by Atsumu.

“Oh, guess who’s got a driver’s license now?” Atsumu gushes.

“For the sake of road safety, I hope it’s not you.”

“Excuse me? I aced the driving exam.”

In reality, Atsumu barely passed the written exam, and his practical exam could’ve gone better as well, whereas Osamu got a near perfect score on both of them. But who cares about scores? Atsumu definitely doesn’t—he has a license, and that’s all that matters. Atsumu also definitely didn’t challenge Osamu to a parallel parking contest the moment they came home from their driving exam. And Osamu definitely didn’t win said competition.

They finish their meal at the same time Suna and Komori do, so the four of them make their way upstairs together.

“Hey, Atsumu, since practice ends earlier tomorrow, do you want to make use of the extra time and go for a run like last time?” Sakusa asks, waiting for someone else to open the door to the wing where their rooms are located so that he doesn’t have to touch the doorknob.

“Hell yeah I do,” Atsumu replies eagerly and opens the door. “I want a rematch of our race.”

“Ya guys should join too,” Atsumu says to Suna and Komori, but one look at Sakusa is enough to tell that he’s not a fan of the idea, so Atsumu backtracks. “Though maybe it’s better ya stay behind. I doubt ya can keep up with us.”

“If you thought I would’ve agreed to something like that in the first place, you clearly don’t know me at all,” Suna scoffs.

In their room, Atsumu sits down on his bed, but Suna remains on his feet.

“Sakusa seems to want to spend a lot of time with you,” he remarks.

“And? Are ya saying people don’t usually enjoy my company?” Atsumu crosses his arms, ready to bite back.

Suna rolls his eyes. “What I’m saying is he wants to spend a lot of time with you specifically.”

Atsumu shrugs. “Well, he doesn’t like big groups of people.”

“Hmm.”

After a beat of silence, Suna says, “I’m gonna go call Samu,” then walks out the door.

“Ya better not hog him all night again! I wanna talk to him too,” Atsumu yells after him, but he doesn’t get a response before the door clicks shut.

Atsumu flips the door off, suddenly irritated at the person who just walked through it.

Yes, Sakusa wants to spend a lot of time with Atsumu, but so what? Atsumu just sees it as Sakusa getting more comfortable around him—he no longer needs Komori as his emotional support animal when he’s with Atsumu. And that, Atsumu figures, is a good sign for their friendship.

It’s possible Atsumu’s gotten too used to Sakusa being comfortable around him, though.

It’s the fifth day of camp, and they finish the afternoon off with practice games, as usual.

Atsumu’s in a team with Sakusa again, which he’s happy about—he has by far the most fun setting to him out of all the spikers, university students included.

Atsumu’s team already took the first set. Now, in the second set, the opposing team has just scored a side-out, and it’s Hoshiumi's turn to serve. His serve is as impressive as ever, the ball swiftly approaching the end line.

“Out!” a wing spiker from Nekoma High—Yamamoto, if Atsumu remembers correctly—calls out. However, the referee’s flag indicates the serve was in.

Yamamoto apologizes for his mistake as Hoshiumi celebrates his service ace on the other side of the net and steps into position for his next serve.

He aims his second serve at the end line too. This time Komori isn’t taking any chances and dives for it. The receive isn’t clean, though, the ball flying toward Atsumu in a low arc.

“Sorry! Cover!” 

No problem. Atsumu smirks and lowers himself to a squat, making sure his posture gives nothing away to the opposing blockers. Both Yamamoto and a middle blocker from some university are running toward the net, ready to jump for a spike, but Atsumu sets the ball to Sakusa, who’s approaching from the backrow. It’s a repeat of the backrow attack they did on the first day, but this time it’s faster, and the spin Sakusa puts on the ball looks nastier.

“Nice kill!” their teammates say in unison, and Atsumu swears someone on the other side of the net says “Damn,” under his breath. Their opponents ask for a time-out, but it doesn’t help them much—Atsumu’s team takes the second set too.

After the game, Washio—whose name Atsumu remembers because they played against each other when Washio was in Fukudorani—comes to speak to Atsumu and Sakusa. "That set at the end of the match was super impressive.”

Atsumu gives him his I know, right? smile.

“Obviously the spike too,” Washio continues. “You guys are really good.”

“Omi-kun and I make such a good team,” Atsumu grins and throws his arm around Sakusa’s shoulders.

It takes him a second to realize what he just did, and once he does, it only takes him a millisecond to remove his arm. He takes a step away and looks at Sakusa, ready to offer profuse apologies. Sakusa’s face has turned red, but it doesn’t appear to be from anger. Since the situation doesn’t seem that bad, Atsumu dials down the intensity of his original apology, but still says he’s sorry.

“It’s fine,” Sakusa mumbles and hurries off to refill his water bottle.

“Dude, I think you might get murdered tonight,” Hoshiumi, who’s made his way to them from the opposite side of the court, says in a stage whisper.

Atsumu winces. He hopes he didn’t overstep his boundaries too badly. Sakusa had just started to seem comfortable around him. 

He turns to Komori to see if he’s as worried as Hoshiumi, but he only looks amused, stifling a laugh as he follows his cousin to the water station.

During dinner that evening, Sakusa doesn’t appear to be upset with Atsumu, but things still feel a little awkward. Well, maybe not awkward but… different. The change is very subtle, but spending time in Sakusa’s presence doesn’t feel as easy as it used to. For example, when they go on their run, their silences stretch in a way that’s not uncomfortable, per se, but not really comfortable, either.

That doesn’t stop Atsumu from challenging Sakusa to a race which Sakusa wins by a hair this time too. Atsumu blames their height difference, which might be only five centimeters, but it must be enough to explain the half-second by which Sakusa beats Atsumu.

Even when they return from their run and head for dinner, it feels like Sakusa is constantly on the cusp of saying something. It’s not too dissimilar from when Osamu was trying to find the right time to tell Atsumu he’s quitting volleyball, and that didn’t end well.

Sakusa also seems more aware of Atsumu, warily eyeing Atsumu’s every movement like he thinks Atsumu might repeat his gesture at any time. Atsumu apologizes to him again just to be safe, but Sakusa assures him everything’s fine, and there’s not really anything Atsumu can do but believe him.

Komori and Suna finally join them for dinner on the sixth day.

“Have ya talked about hanging out tonight since it’s the last night?” Atsumu asks, figuring the two of them have more intel on the matter.

Komori glances at Sakusa before answering. “Yup! Probably something similar to what we did last year.”

“It was pretty fun, eating snacks and playing card games,” Atsumu muses, pointedly looking at Sakusa. He doesn’t look convinced, though.

“C’mon, Omi-kun,” Atsumu pouts. “At least give it a chance. We can leave if it’s terrible.” 

“We,” Suna says, amused. “Gotta love how Atsumu of all people is asking permission to go somewhere. Too bad Sakusa doesn’t want to share, isn’t that right?”

Sakusa shoots a scowl at him. “I don’t want to go, but that doesn’t mean Atsumu can’t go.”

“But you don’t want Atsumu to go either.”

“I ain’t asking for anyone’s permission,” Atsumu snaps, giving Suna his What’s yer problem? stare. “I just wanna spend time with Omi-kun before we all go back home.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Suna seems to find the situation entertaining, for whatever reason. 

Komori clears his throat awkwardly and directs the conversation to safer territory by making a comment about the Adlers vs. Warriors game that took place yesterday.

After they’re finished with their food, Suna and Komori head to one of the lounge areas where the players are meant to gather, while Atsumu and Sakusa climb up the stairs to their rooms.

“I brought my laptop with me. I can show you some of my photos,” Sakusa suggests.

Atsumu perks up. “Really?”

“Only if you’re interested. I know you asked to see them, but if you find it boring, you can just say so.”

“No! I wanna see ‘em.”

Sakusa opens the door to his and Komori’s room. As soon as they’re both in, he goes to the bathroom to wash his hands, and pumps some hand sanitizer into his hand.

Then he throws his face mask into the trashcan and sits down at his desk, beckoning Atsumu to take the desk chair from Komori’s side of the room. Sakusa switches his laptop on and opens his photo folder, then nudges the laptop toward Atsumu who eagerly starts going through the photos.

The first one is of a yellow flower growing between the road and the sidewalk, probably in some quiet suburb. It’s only a weed, growing from a crack in the asphalt beside tufts of grass, but as the focus of the photo, you can see it’s quite beautiful. In the blurred background, a car of the same color has just driven past the flower on the other lane.

One of Atsumu’s favorites is a gloomy photo of a blue rubber boot that someone must have lost in a ditch. It has clearly rained recently because the boot is filled with water and the tall grass surrounding it is still dripping water. A sparrow has landed on the rim of the boot to take a drink.

Atsumu arrives at the final image and turns to Sakusa. “Damn, Omi-kun. I could easily see these at a photography exhibition.”

“You only say that because you’ve never been to one.”

Atsumu squints at him. “How do ya know I’ve never been to a photography exhibition?” he asks petulantly.

Sakusa raises a brow as if to challenge Atsumu to prove him wrong. When Atsumu doesn’t, Sakusa pulls the laptop closer to him and goes back to some photos.

“The color balance is completely off in this one. The composition could be better too. This one’s definitely over-exposed. And this one’s pretty noisy. I have no idea why I cropped it the way I did, either.”

Atsumu doesn’t see anything wrong with the photos. Then again, he doesn’t know anything about photography.

He remembers when his grandma came to watch one of his games where Atsumu screwed up most of his serves. After the game, she tried to appease him by praising his serves. They had probably looked fine to her since they were all in, but Atsumu knew a toddler could’ve received his serves—the jump serves weren’t powerful enough, and the floaters had too much spin to properly float. So, his grandma’s well-meaning comments only served to annoy Atsumu more.

Therefore, Atsumu doesn’t voice his disagreement with all the criticism Sakusa gives himself.

Sakusa closes his laptop. “Those are all the photos I have on my laptop right now. I have more on a hard drive, but I don’t have it with me.”

“Well, thanks for showing ‘em to me!”

Sakusa’s eyes flit across the desk awkwardly. Is he expecting Atsumu to leave now that he’s seen the photos? Atsumu knows Sakusa needs his daily dose of alone time.

Atsumu’s about to stand up when Sakusa opens his mouth. “Um, do you want to watch something?”

“Oh? Didn’tcha say ya hate watching movies with others ‘cause ya can’t stand it if they talk over it and ‘cause it’s unfathomable why anyone would pause a movie in the middle of it ?” Atsumu teases, remembering the time Sakusa went on a passionate rant about his strict movie-watching etiquette.

“Well, I was thinking of a documentary. A nature documentary, maybe.”

Atsumu chuckles. “Sure. But just so ya know, I will cry if I see a baby seal get eaten by an orca or something else as tragic.”

They decide on a documentary about South American rainforests, and settle on Komori’s bed to watch it—Sakusa assures Atsumu that Komori won’t care, but Sakusa won’t allow anyone on his bed in clothes they’ve worn during the day.

After twenty something minutes, Atsumu notices that Sakusa’s much closer to him than when they started the documentary. It’s like every time Sakusa changes his position, he shifts closer.

Or is it Atsumu who’s accidentally getting closer? Especially after he thoughtlessly slung his arm around him the other day, Atsumu wants to take extra care not to make Sakusa uncomfortable. Should he put some space between them? But if Sakusa doesn’t mind the proximity, would he find it rude if Atsumu shuffled away from him?

Atsumu shakes himself out of it and tells himself to relax. Since when has he overthought things like this? If Sakusa’s bothered, he’ll move. If there’s anything Atsumu’s sure of, it’s that.

He diverts his attention back to the documentary and makes a joke about how the poison dart frog kind of looks like Sakusa with its black beady eyes and dots on its head that make it look like it’s constantly scowling.

It’s the time of the year when Atsumu’s hands get really dry, so Atsumu keeps absentmindedly scratching his hand. He’s about to do so again when Sakusa places his hand on top of Atsumu’s.

“If your skin is dry, you shouldn’t scratch it.”

“I know, I know. But it’s so dry it’s itchy!”

Atsumu expects Sakusa to retract his hand and make a snarky comment about Atsumu’s inadequate skincare. Instead, he takes Atsumu’s cracked hand in his much softer ones and inspects it. Atsumu freezes, feeling his heart rate pick up. He tries to look at Sakusa, but he’s intently staring at Atsumu’s hand instead of at Atsumu.

“Hmm. You weren’t kidding when you said your hands get really dry.”

“Yeah, I dunno why they dry so much when even Samu doesn’t have that problem,” Atsumu says, trying to summon normalcy in his voice. “But the hand cream ya suggested really helps. I just screwed up by not remembering to bring it with me.”

“Why didn’t you mention that earlier? It’s important to be consistent with applying the cream.” Sakusa lets go of Atsumu’s hand and gets up.

Atsumu lets out a long breath. He’s not sure why he’s so flustered all of a sudden. Sakusa hasn't done anything weird. Only a day ago, Atsumu threw his arm around Sakusa like it was the most natural thing to do, so it can’t be the proximity bothering him. And it’s not like Atsumu hasn’t had a teammate tape his fingers during practice before. What Sakusa did isn’t much different from that.

Still, something feels off.

Sakusa takes out a tube of hand cream from his bag. “Here, use mine."

Atsumu notices that Sakusa’s hand is shaking slightly as he squeezes a dollop of lotion onto Atsumu’s hand.

Atsumu musters a smile. “Thanks, Omi-kun,” he says, rubbing  the hand cream into his skin. The soothing effect is immediate—the itching disappears almost completely. If only the cream could also soothe Atsumu’s nerves.

Sakusa settles back onto the bed. He’s not as close to Atsumu as he was before he stood up, but he could’ve sat down on his own bed and Atsumu would’ve still been hyper-aware of his presence.

Atsumu isn’t paying attention to the documentary at all anymore. His brain is on overdrive, trying to figure out what’s going on and why it’s making him so fidgety.

The penny finally drops when he realizes that Sakusa isn’t watching the documentary either—he’s constantly stealing nervous glances at Atsumu.

Those glances. Sakusa not only tolerating Atsumu’s nearness, but seeking it out. His insistence on hanging out with Atsumu, and Atsumu only.

Atsumu gets up at lightspeed, almost knocking Sakusa’s laptop off the bed.

“Um, I’m feeling a bit sick all of a sudden. I should go,” Atsumu says for lack of a better excuse, and makes a beeline for the door.

“Atsu—” is all he hears before he slams the door behind him and all but runs to his room.

He quickly changes into his pajamas and turns off the lights. He slips under his blanket, though he knows he won’t sleep a wink tonight. His heart rate doubled the moment Sakusa grabbed his hand, and it hasn’t come down since.

Did he misinterpret the situation? There’s no way, right? Everything Sakusa’s done during the camp hints at the same thing—that he likes Atsumu. And looking back, Atsumu realizes there were already some signs when they spent time together in Kobe. 

Atsumu curses himself for being so oblivious. He’s just been so focused on the fact that he might never like anyone that he didn’t even consider the possibility that someone might catch feelings for him . Even before he started questioning whether he’s aroace, he was so caught up in wondering if he liked Sakusa that he forgot to think about whether Sakusa liked him. It felt irrelevant at the time—why would Atsumu have thought about Sakusa’s feelings when he was so confused about his own?

And the realization that Sakusa might like him isn’t the only epiphany he’s being hit in the face with. He might’ve been hesitant to commit to the aroace label before, but now there’s not a doubt in his mind.

Atsumu can’t think of any other reason why he wouldn’t like Sakusa, which is probably why he had such a hard time figuring out whether he liked him or not. But now, it’s clear as day that he doesn’t like him, and if Astumu doesn’t have feelings for Sakusa, who the hell is he going to have feelings for? 

Who has Atsumu been kidding all this time? He’s always known there was something different about him—he just didn’t have the words to describe the difference. And when he learned those words, he should’ve accepted them instead of doubting himself. Because, deep down, he’s always known this is who he is.

The wake-up call in the form of Sakusa’s crush shouldn’t have been necessary, but nonetheless, it’s what it took for Atsumu to finally accept the truth about himself. And although he’s freaking out, he also feels a wave of relief wash over him. No matter how much he’s panicking, at least he finally has the answer he’s been searching for, and even with his heart racing and hands shaking, a ghost of a smile plays on Atsumu’s lips.

It disappears quickly, though. Because no matter how relieved he is, it doesn’t change the fact that Sakusa probably has feelings for Atsumu, and Atsumu has no idea what to do about it.

Atsumu barely sleeps a wink that night. He’s been in bed for an hour by the time Suna comes back to their room, but while Suna falls asleep almost immediately, Atsumu keeps tossing and turning for what feels like an eternity. 

At least he can use the dark circles around his eyes as an excuse to stay in bed while Suna packs his things in the morning. Suna keeps giving him puzzled looks, but Atsumu ignores them.

“Aren’t you getting up for breakfast?” Suna asks after he’s finished packing.

“In a bit,” Atsumu groans and pulls the blanket over his head.

“Alright, then,” Suna says. Atsumu stays buried under his blanket until he hears the door open and close.

When he finally gets up and checks his phone, he’s not sure if he’s more afraid to find a text from Sakusa or no text at all. The latter is what he gets.

Atsumu checks the time and realizes they’ll stop serving breakfast in fifteen minutes. The only times Atsumu hasn’t felt like eating were when he was sick, so even the current situation with Sakusa isn’t enough to make Atsumu lose his appetite.

However, there’s a good chance Sakusa will still be in the dining hall by the time Atsumu gets there, and he hasn’t got a clue what to say to him. He could simply not join Sakusa for breakfast, but after sharing every single meal with him for a week, it would feel unnecessarily rude to sit at another table now.

So, Atsumu goes against his growling stomach’s will and skips breakfast, staying in his room to pack his bag instead. When Suna comes back to their room, he doesn’t ask why Atsumu never showed up.

They finish the camp by playing a few one-set games like they did on the first day. 

When Atsumu and Sakusa get put into the same team, Atsumu sets the ball to Sakusa like has on every other day of the camp. When Sakusa scores a point, Atsumu gives him a “Nice kill!” like he would to anyone else.

Because everything’s normal. Everything’s fine.

Except that when Atsumu, in his sleep-deprived state, sets the ball way too low for Sakusa, the spiker doesn’t even complain about it. And when the coaches declare the camp officially over and Atsumu makes his way toward Sakusa, Sakusa flees the scene so quickly it gives Atsumu déjà vu from the time he was first trying to make Sakusa’s acquaintance at the Youth Camp.

Atsumu keeps trying to get a hold of Sakusa, but he doesn’t catch him until he’s about to leave for the train station. He tells Suna to wait and jogs to Sakusa, who’s probably waiting for Komori.

“Omi!”

Sakusa lowers his phone, looking at Atsumu expectantly.

Atsumu thinks back to the words he’s been rehearsing in his head for the past hour. I’m sorry I freaked out yesterday. I can explain everything. Can I call ya tonight to talk about it?

What ends up leaving his mouth is, “I guess ya won the service ace competition this time.”

Sakusa’s face tenses behind his mask and his eyes turn cold.

Atsumu swallows nervously. “But I’ll get more aces when we play against each other at nationals.”

Sakusa looks back at his phone, not saying anything.

“Well, speaking of which, I’ll see ya at nationals.”

Still no response.

“Um, by then!” Atsumu says awkwardly and slowly backs away from Sakusa. When it’s apparent Sakusa’s not going to look up from his phone, Atsumu sighs and walks to Suna, who’s waiting for him with a raised eyebrow.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks as they start toward the train station.

“Shut up,” Atsumu snaps, trying to keep his voice from quivering, and takes a few long strides to get ahead of Suna, so he doesn’t have to deal with the curious glances he keeps shooting his way.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Suna says when Atsumu is about to turn right at an intersection.

“Shut up.”

Atsumu’s supposed to work on his homework on the train, but all his brain power is spent on trying to come up with a text to send to Sakusa. Unfortunately, the four hours it takes for them to travel from Tokyo back to Akashi aren’t enough for Atsumu to come up with anything good enough to send, so he ends up doing nothing but staring blankly at the screen of his phone and tapping it every three minutes to stop it from going dark.

At the station in Akashi, Atsumu greets his family cheerfully—it is good to be back home—but in the car, he’s quiet. Osamu stares at him, clearly noticing something’s off. Suna whispers something in his ear, and it doesn’t take a genius to know they’re talking about Atsumu. Atsumu’s mind is too occupied by other things to care, though.

Why is it that just when Atsumu’s gotten over one predicament, he's hit in the face with a new problem? Atsumu wished for a definitive answer about his sexuality, and he got it. But this isn’t exactly how he wanted to get it.

Then again, don’t they say you need to be careful what you wish for?

Chapter Text

Atsumu spends the days following the training camp staring at his phone screen, trying to come up with an apology to send to Sakusa but coming up short, and swearing to himself he’ll do it the next day instead. The pattern repeats itself the next day, though, and no matter how many apologies and explanations Atsumu writes, he never sends any of them.

Making idle small talk doesn’t feel right either, so Atsumu’s currently in no contact with Sakusa. And as more and more time passes in radio silence, the bar for the message becomes higher and higher.

Atsumu knows it’s not fair at all, but he can’t help but be a little bit cross with Sakusa. Atsumu was so happy to have a real friend. Especially when he realized he’ll never have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, friends suddenly became really important to him.

So why did Sakusa have to go and catch feelings for him? Atsumu didn’t accidentally lead him on, right? He doesn’t think he did that insinuated he likes Sakusa like that. Then again, he’s hardly an expert in these matters.

When someone screws up their serve or misses the spike when Atsumu’s toss was flawless, Atsumu’ll just call them a useless scrub and move on. He didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s no point in sulking. However, it’s a completely different story when it’s Atsumu screwing up his own serve or giving someone a flawed set. So, as easy as it would be to blame all of this on Sakusa, Atsumu knows whose fault it truly is, which is why, most of all, he’s pissed off at himself.

Because at the end of the day, it’s Atsumu who practically ghosted Sakusa. And it’s him who’s still doing nothing about it. Talking is his specialty—why can’t he do it now?

It wasn’t like this any of the other times someone confessed to Atsumu. When Aochi told Atsumu she liked him, he moved on immediately. Or rather, there wasn’t anything to move on from. That said, Atsumu never considered himself friends with Aochi, so there was no need to worry about losing her.

Technically, Sakusa didn’t even confess anything to Atsumu. That’s the other thing nagging at him—what if he read the whole situation wrong? He finds it unlikely, but it’s yet another uncertainty on the list of things bothering Atsumu.

And Atsumu thought he could steer clear of romance-related drama when he figured out he might be aroace. How naive of him.

Atsumu shakes off his thoughts and sighs as he prepares to serve at practice. He’s been doing that a lot lately—he must have sighed more times during the past week than he has in his entire life.

Another thing he’s been doing more often lately is screwing up. His mind has gone into such overdrive that he has trouble focusing during practice, which is rare. Usually volleyball is what distracts Atsumu from everything else going on in his life. The problem is, when he gets a service ace, he thinks back to his service ace competition with Sakusa, and how he has yet to send a message to him. Then his next serve is out of bounds. Or when his toss is particularly good, he thinks back to how fun it was to set to Sakusa, and how he still hasn’t cleared the air between them. Then his next set is off.

The mistakes he makes aren’t major—his serves are out of bounds only a little more often than usual, and his sets are only a little too low or high. With how well Atsumu usually plays, their practice is largely unaffected by his absence of mind.

Osamu knows something’s up, of course. He probably noticed it the moment Atsumu greeted him at the train station, and Atsumu’s slip-ups on the court only serve as further proof. Atsumu ignores Osamu’s questioning glances, though, and says everything's fine whenever Osamu asks about it. Atsumu’s tired from only thinking about the whole situation, so there’s no way he has the energy to speak about it. Besides, Atsumu knows he messed up, and he’s not one to admit his shortcomings easily.

However, as much as Osamu is the dumber twin, Atsumu has to admit that he can be devious too. After noticing Atsumu’s unwillingness to talk, he brings up the topic when they’re touching up their hair, and Atsumu has no choice but to sit in front of him on the wooden stool they’ve dragged into the bathroom.

“So, what’s up?” Osamu asks, mixing together the bleach and developer in a bowl.

Osamu’s the dumber twin, but Atsumu knows how to play dumb. “Whaddya mean?” 

Osamu stares at Atsumu through the mirror, giving him a look that says, Don’t even try that shit right now.  

Atsumu glares back at him defiantly for a few seconds, then gives up. Playing dumb is an unfortunately ineffective tactic when it comes to getting Osamu off his case.

“I fucked up,” Atsumu sighs.

“Yeah, figured as much. What didja do, though?”

“I messed it all up with Omi-kun.”

Osamu hums. “Rin mentioned that things seemed hella awkward between the two of ya on the last day of the camp. What happened?”

“The others were hanging out in the hotel lounge, but Omi didn’t wanna join ‘em, so we went to his room. He showed me some of his photos, and then he suggested we watch a nature documentary. But it felt like something was off. I couldn’t put a finger on it at first, but then it hit me, and I realized he likes me. So I panicked and ran off.”

“Right. And I’m guessing ya didn’t talk about it with him?”

“No,” Atsumu groans. “I panicked and ran off. The next day, I avoided him, ‘cause I didn’t know what to say. I did try to talk to him right before we left, but I chickened out, so I just acted like nothing was wrong.”

Atsumu winces, partly at his past actions, partly because Osamu starts applying the bleach to his grown-out roots and he can feel the slight sting of the chemicals on his scalp.

Osamu lets out a sigh. “Not gonna lie, that’s probably the worst thing ya coulda done.”

“I know,” Atsumu mutters, dejected, and slouches on the stool.

Osamu works in silence for a moment while Atsumu stews in his misery.

“So,” he finally continues, almost done with Atsumu’s hair. “Why exactly didja panic like that? ‘Cause ya don’t like him back, or ‘cause ya realized ya do?”

Atsumu hesitates, thinking about how much he wants to say. “I panicked ‘cause I realized I don’t like him. I’d been wondering if maybe I do, but in that moment it became very clear that I don’t. He didn’t really even do anything, but just the thought of him having feelings for me made me really uneasy.”

“So I’m guessing ya don’t like guys, then?”

“No. And, um…”

Atsumu grabs the hem of his T-shirt to stop his hands from shaking. Now he gets why Osamu was so nervous when he came out to Atsumu.

“I… I don’t like girls either,” he says, bouncing his knee.

Osamu looks confused as he puts down the bowl of bleach and takes off his gloves. “Um, okay.” 

Atsumu clears his throat, taking a deep breath. He moves his hands from the hem of his shirt to his thighs, rubbing them against the fabric of his joggers to dry his sweaty palms.

“I’m… I’m aroace.” Once he manages to speak the first words, the rest come tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. “That means aromantic and asexual. And that means I don’t feel attraction—sexual or romantic—toward anyone. So, I don’t like guys, but I don’t like girls either.”

Atsumu gets up, avoiding eye contact with Osamu who takes Atsumu’s place on the stool.

“Huh,” is all Osamu says.

Atsumu lets out a nervous laugh as he puts on a pair of gloves. “Yep.”

He does his best to apply the bleach to his brother’s hair despite his hands shaking like leaves in a thunderstorm. 

Osamu stares at the sink blankly for a few more seconds before collecting his thoughts. “I didn't know that was a thing. But that makes a whole lotta sense.”

Atsumu pauses for a second. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know it’s not really any of my business who ya like, but—”

“But yer a nosy bastard.”

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,” Osamu huffs. “What I was about to say is that I couldn’t help but wonder about that since ya acted so weird every time someone asked ya about crushes. It kinda confused me.”

“That makes two of us,” Atsumu scoffs, his nerves easing up. “I’ve been so damn confused. When y’all started to talk about crushes and stuff a few years ago, I couldn’t relate at all, and it was so frustrating not knowing why. When I became friends with Omi-kun, everyone kept teasing me about liking him. I really didn’t get it, but everyone was so insistent I thought maybe I just didn’t realize I had a crush on him. But it didn’t feel right no matter how much I tried to make myself believe it, and I felt kinda defeated ‘cause of it.”

Osamu stays silent for a beat, staring at his lap. “I’m… Um. I’m sorry for that.”

Atsumu’s eyes snap to Osamu in the mirror and his mouth falls open. Not once have they apologized to each other in their lives unless their parents forced them to.

“Say that again.”

“No.” The tips of Osamu’s ears have turned pink.

“I need that on record.” Atsumu reaches for his phone with the hand with less bleach on it, but accidentally bumps the bowl in his other hand on Osamu’s head.

“Look at what yer doing! Yer gonna get bleach in my eye if ya don’t concentrate,” Osamu berates. “And don’t even think about getting yer phone to record me. I ain't saying it again.”

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his twin, but goes back to working the bleach into his roots.

”It’s just that I was one of the people who kept teasing ya about having a crush on Sakusa, and in hindsight, I shouldn’t have.”

“I can’t believe yer finally owning up to something.“

“And I’m still far ahead of ya when it comes to admitting our mistakes.”

“I just never make mistakes.”

Osamu gives him an incredulous look, then thinks about his next words for a moment. “This is gonna sound real dumb, but last year, when ya said you’d never had a crush and then lied about having a crush on Aochi, I thought maybe ya were gay too. And I shoulda just believed ya when ya said ya weren’t into guys, but…”

“But what?” Atsumu prods.

“Ugh, nevermind. Doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t worry about sounding stupid. Ya always do, so I’m used to it.”

“It’s yer own stupidity yer used to.”

“Shut up and spit it out already.”

“I can’t do both, ya idiot.”

Atsumu kicks the leg of the stool and gives Osamu a scowl. Osamu scowls back at him, and they engage in a staring contest for a few seconds.

Eventually, Osamu relents, letting out a heavy sigh. “I dunno. A part of me got excited when I thought ya might be into guys too so we woulda had that in common, I guess. Like, we coulda come out together. I never really worry about hobophobes and stuff, but it’s still kinda scary to be out.”

Atsumu’s lower lip begins to wobble, though there’s also a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “And it’d be less scary if we were in it together?”

The blush has creeped back to the tip of Osamu’s ears. “I know it’s dumb.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb. I just… didn’t think ya cared about that kinda stuff. You’ve never had a problem with doing things without me. Like the first time we didn’t get put into the same class in primary school. Or now that we’re gonna do different things after high school. Ya always shrug stuff like that off.”

“Or maybe I just don’t act like a toddler and throw a tantrum every time things don’t go exactly the way I want. Like someone else I know.”

Under normal conditions, Atsumu would never ignore Osamu’s jab at him, but he’s feeling oddly sentimental right now. Sue him. He and Osamu are about to start their last term in high school, they’re facing their final volleyball tournament together soon, and their conversation has filled Atsumu with a sense of warmth and comfort after feeling lost for weeks.

“Hey, Samu.”

Osamu meets his gaze in the mirror.

“I love ya, ya know.”

Osamu’s face scrunches up like he just took a bite of a lemon. “What the fuck? That sounds so wrong coming from ya. I feel sick now.”

Atsumu kicks the stool again, this time with more force. “What? I’ve said it to ya before.”

“Yeah, when we were toddlers. Back then, ya also told our mailman ya loved him after he gave ya the birthday card Obaachan sent.”

“And? I bet mailmen don’t get enough love for what they do.”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Still, where the hell did that come from?”

“I dunno. It just felt important to me to say it.”

“Right.” Osamu avoids Atsumu’s eyes in the mirror, a small grimace still on his face. When he looks back at Atsumu, Atsumu gives him a crooked smirk.

“Now say it back.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

Osamu looks like Atsumu asked him to jump off a cliff with him. “Nuh-uh.”

Atsumu gives the stool yet another kick, but the move has lost its effectiveness. He wants to grab Osamu’s shoulders and shake the words out of him, but he can’t do that with bleach staining his gloves. He settles for nudging Osamu with his elbow, the bowl in his hand coming dangerously close to spilling over again.

Osamu flinches away from Atsumu. “I toldja to stop flailing around with a fucking bowl of bleach in yer hand!”

Atsumu stops but scrunches his face into a pout. “Say it,” he sulks.

Osamu clenches his jaw. “I love ya too, scrub.”

Atsumu’s pout morphs into a grin.

”Doesn’t mean I don’t also hate ya,” Osamu is quick to add.

“Doesn’t mean ya don’t also love me,” Atsumu says in a sweet sing-song as he gives Osamu an awkward hug with his forearms.

“I said stop flailing around—”

“Yeah yeah.” Atsumu stands up straight and goes back to working on Osamu’s hair, humming cheerily.

“So, what are ya gonna do with Sakusa? Ya became pretty good friends, right?”

Well, that brings Atsumu’s mood back down. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I think there’s only one thing ya can do.”

“I guess. But it’s easier said than done.”

“‘Course it is. Isn't that what Ma always preaches about—that relationships require work. They ain't always easy.”

Atsumu lets out a frustrated groan. “Why didn’t I talk to him at the camp? Now every day it gets harder and harder to do it. I just have no idea what to say to him.

“‘Hey, Omi, I’m sorry I ran off but I think ya like me and I don’t like ya back, and it’s not you, it’s me, ‘cause I actually don’t like anyone like that. Which is actually why I freaked out ‘cause yer kinda the reason I figured that out about myself. But don’t worry, I still wanna be yer friend.’

“Except that I don’t think I’m ready to come out to anyone yet.”

“Well, ya don’t gotta give him the whole truth. Leave out the part that yer, um…”

“Aroace,” Atsumu supplies, unimpressed.

“Leave out that yer aroace, and just tell him that ya only like him as a friend.”

“But what if he actually doesn’t have a crush on me? It’d be hella awkward.”

“That’s a risk ya gotta take. Though if it helps, Rin also picked up those kinda vibes.”

It really doesn't help Atsumu. The slim chance that Sakusa doesn’t like him actually serves as a convenient excuse not to reach out to him.

“Okay, let’s say he does have feelings for me. What if he doesn’t wanna be my friend anymore? What if he only spent time with me ‘cause he liked me, and now that that’s off the table, he can’t be bothered with me anymore? And how do feelings even work? If he likes me, does he need time to get over me?”

“Well, if it’s just a small crush, he’ll probably get over it pretty quickly. But if he really likes ya, he might need some time. Just imagine getting rejected by someone yer really into.”

“I can’t, seeing that I’ve never been into anyone at all.”

“Right. That’s so weird to me. Ya genuinely don’t know what a crush feels like?”

“No. Like I said, I’ve never had one,” Atsumu says, a little exasperated.

“Anyhow, like I said, the only thing ya can do is talk it out with Sakusa. Maybe he doesn’t wanna be friends with ya, maybe he does. Only one way to find out.”

“I know. I’ll text him tonight.”

“We both know ya won’t.”

“Shut up. I will.”

Osamu shows a rare sign of kindness and lets the matter go even though Atsumu can tell he doesn’t believe him. 

Atsumu finishes applying bleach to Osamu’s hair, and they clean up after themselves. Osamu settles onto the stool and Atsumu sits down on the toilet seat cover to wait for the bleach to do its magic. Their parents banned them from leaving the bathroom with bleach in their hair after they got into a fight two years ago. Atsumu fell on his ass and hit his head on the ottoman in the corridor. The bleach stain is still visible on the cushion, though their mom crocheted a blanket to cover it up.

Atsumu’s lazily scrolling on his phone when he feels Osamu’s eyes on him.

“What?”

“I was just thinking—”

“Careful, yer gonna hurt yerself.”

Osamu grabs a hairbrush from a basket on the bathroom counter and throws it at Atsumu. Atsumu dodges it, and the brush lands in the bathtub behind him, clattering around for a few seconds before coming to a halt. Osamu continues like he was never interrupted.

“What ya said means yer never gonna have a girlfriend of a boyfriend, right?”

“Probably not. Yer not into girls, so ya don’t wanna date girls. I’m not into anyone, so I don’t wanna date anyone.”

“I see. Isn’t that gonna be lonely, though?”

Atsumu lowers his eyes to the floor. “I mean, I’m still gonna have friends. And I’ll always have ya, right?” Atsumu's voice is small as he asks the question, and he doesn’t wait for Osamu’s answer. “But not gonna lie, I am a little scared of being lonely. Even if I have friends, they're all gonna have partners that are more important to them than me.”

Atsumu stares at the floor tiles for a beat, then his eyes widen at a sudden thought. “Oh god, what if I can’t even make friends? What if everyone catches feelings for me and no one wants to be just friends?”

“Pfft. That’s a bit too conceited even coming from ya. I highly doubt ya hafta worry about everyone falling for ya with yer personality. Sakusa’s probably the exception to the rule, actually.”

Atsumu glares at Osamu and fishes the hairbrush from the bathtub. He throws it at Osamu, who catches it, and puts it back in the basket.

Atsumu goes back to scrolling on his phone, but Osamu interrupts him again.

“Ya will.”

Atsumu looks up at him, confused. “I’ll what?”

“Always have me in yer life. Just thought I’d say that, since we're being sentimental, and all.”

Atsumu blinks, and then his face breaks out in a grin. “Aww, I knew that ya—”

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Osamu says and stands up abruptly. “I need to rinse my hair.”

The cycle of Atsumu racking his brain coming up with a text to send to Sakusa, and then being pissed off at himself for not being able to send it continues. However, Atsumu does better to make sure it doesn’t affect his gameplay. Instead, he does what he usually does, and uses volleyball as a distraction from the turmoil in his mind.

During practice, he puts his all not only into his own practice, but also into helping his teammates to the best of his abilities. In the evenings, he analyzes game tapes of teams they’re likely to encounter in the late rounds of the Spring Tournament. Atsumu procrastinates with Itachiyama’s game tapes, only watching them when he doesn’t have any other teams’ game tapes left. He tries to focus solely on Itachiyama’s strengths and weaknesses as a team, but he can’t quite keep his eyes from straying to a particular individual every time he does something to stand out. Which is often.

Atsumu’s always thrumming with excitement before any tournament, and this year’s Spring High has him buzzing with eagerness to play as well. His team is in the best form it’s been since he joined it. Atsumu’s never went into a tournament thinking they’re going to lose, but this year he’s almost certain they’re going to win.

However, there’s also a layer of anxiety behind Atsumu’s excitement. This year’s Spring High is riddled with last chances. It’s Atsumu’s last chance to win a national high school tournament—his last chance to win one with Osamu. It’s Atsumu’s last chance to make good on his countless promises to beat Itachiyama, and also his last chance to make things right with Sakusa. Because that’s what Atsumu believes—it’s now or never. If he can’t bring himself to talk with Sakusa now, he knows he never will.

Atsumu wishes he could just get it over with, but even though he catches a glimpse of Sakusa at the gymnasium a few times, Sakusa never stays in the same place long enough for Atsumu to go up to him to have a chat. That could also be because every time he spots Sakusa, Atsumu spends a few minutes giving himself a pep talk before going up to him.

The first two games Inarizaki plays are almost boring to Atsumu, so easily they win them. It’s not until the third round, where they face Karasuno, that Atsumu is able to truly enjoy the thrill of the game.

Karasuno has changed a lot in the year since they last played each other. Hinata and Kageyama’s freak quick is somehow even faster than before. Of course, Atsumu and Osamu have that attack in their arsenal too, but Atsumu has to admit that the original duo pulls it off just a teeny tiny bit better. Kageyama’s serves have also improved a lot, and the bald wing spiker of theirs has stepped well into the role of an ace.

However, their defence hasn’t improved in step with their offense. Whether that’s due to their old captain’s absence or something else, Atsumu doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. Their defense isn’t bad by any means, but it causes just enough holes in Karasuno’s gameplay for Atsumu to exploit, and after grueling three sets, Inarizaki gets their revenge.

After shaking hands, Atsumu tells Hinata and Kageyama he’s looking forward to encountering them in the V.League, though his words are a little more sincere when he says them to the wing spiker. Atsumu really hopes that when he meets Hinata again, they’ll be playing on the same side of the net.

Revenge is always sweet, and what makes their victory over Karasuno even sweeter is that Aran and Kita came to watch the game, so Atsumu’s basking in the afterglow of victory long after the match.

However, as soon as they’re back at their hotel, Atsumu’s mind is on the next match. None of the teams left in the tournament are easy to win, but one by one, Inarizaki beats them, earning their spot in the finals. Their opponent there is none other than Itachiyama Institute.

Itachiyama gets the court for their warm-ups first. When it’s Inarizaki’s turn, Atsumu keeps looking at the other side of the court every time he’s not setting the ball to someone. He should just walk over there and quickly clear the air between him and Sakusa before the game, but wouldn’t that be weird? He can’t just march there when they’re preparing for the match. He’ll do it afterwards.

Their warm-up time is over soon anyway. Once everything is ready for the game, the starting players run to the court one by one as the announcer reads out their names. After everyone’s on the court, the referee calls for the captains for the coin toss. Sakusa wins it, and chooses to serve first. Atsumu’s brain immediately supplies him with a teasing comment about how Sakusa must be scared of Atsumu’s serves, but he swallows it down.

“Here’s to a good game,” he says instead, and to his credit, only a little awkwardly. He extends his hand for a handshake. 

“To a good game,” Sakusa echoes and takes Atsumu’s hand. The handshake lasts approximately half a second.

Atsumu doesn’t know if Sakusa looks him in the eyes or not, because he’s looking anywhere but at Sakusa, though his guess is that Sakusa’s avoiding looking at Atsunu too. When they go back to their teams, Atsumu steals a glance at Sakusa and sees him make a detour to the bench to sanitize his hands.

Unsurprisingly, the game goes into the fifth set, Itachiyama taking the first set, Inarizaki the next two, and Itachiyama the fourth. Furthermore, most of the sets reach a deuce, so when the scoreline becomes an even 14-14 in the final set as well, everyone is beat. However, they still have a game to win, so Atsumu forces his muscles to obey him, and he makes sure the rest of his team is also still giving it all they’ve got. Suna gives him a murderous glare every time Atsumu sets the ball slightly out of the middle blocker’s comfort zone, but he hits the ball all the same. 

The fifth set is as infuriatingly even as the entire match has been, but after a few more rallies, Inarizaki is able to pull ahead, reaching match point. It’s Suna’s turn to serve, and as impressive as his jump serves have become, the exhaustion has clearly gotten to him, and Itachiyama is able to receive the serve with ease. However, they’re just as tired as Inarizaki, so their attack doesn’t pack much of a punch either. Riseki bumps the ball cleanly and it flies toward Atsumu in a beautiful arc.

Atsumu hesitates for a millisecond, remembering that the play he’s planning is what cost them the win at the previous Spring High. But they’re not who they were last year. Yes, they’re on their last legs, but Atsumu knows he can still pull off the set, and he knows Osamu can pull off the hit, so a millisecond of hesitation is all Atsumu allows himself before he sends the ball to the spot where he knows his brother’s palm will be—not quite as high as usual, but high enough to push Osamu to his limits. He might be tired, but at the end of the day, he’s still Atsumu’s twin. A little exhaustion isn’t enough to rid him of his competitiveness. If Atsumu issues a challenge, Osamu will rise to it.

Itachiyama has had enough time to get used to the twins’ quick attack, but they’re not quite ready for it this late into the game. Their blockers are a hair too slow, which allows Osamu more freedom to choose where he hits the ball. And that, in turn, means that the receiving players are a hair too slow when they dive for the ball.

Atsumu’s not sure whether the audience has also become too tired to constantly cheer at the players, or if it’s just his intense focus tuning out the sounds of the world outside the court. In any case, Atsumu watches Osamu’s spike in deafening silence. However, the moment the ball slams into Itachiyama’s court and the referee whistles to announce Inarizaki’s win, Atsumu’s ears are bombarded with shouts and cheers. The Inarizaki marching band starts playing the same tune they always play when Inarizaki wins, but it has never sounded better.

For one second, Atsumu stares stupidly at the spot on the other side of the net where the ball hit the floor. Then Ginjima and Aramaki are on him, encapsulating him in a crushing group hug. They’re crying. Atsumu realizes he’s crying too.

When he’s released from the hug, his eyes find Osamu, who’s just been released from a hug with Suna. Osamu’s also crying, and Atsumu’s so high on victory that it doesn’t even cross his mind to make fun of him for it. All Atsumu does is take two long strides and leap at Osamu, almost toppling him as he wraps his arms around his twin.

Atsumu’s crying even harder when he pulls away, but there’s also a massive grin on his face, probably identical to the one he sees on Osamu’s lips.

“We did it,” Atsumu says. Then, louder, “We fucking did it!”

They hug each other again, and this time the entire team joins them, everyone huddling together in the middle of the court.

When they separate, Coach Kurosu gives each of them a congratulatory pat on their back and reminds them they need to gather up for the end-of-game formalities.

Atsumu takes his place in front of the net and feels the high of victory waver as he’s once again standing face-to-face with Sakusa. Their handshake is as brief as before the game.

“Congratulations,” Sakusa says perfunctorily.

“Thanks. It was a good game,” Atsumu says sheepishly.

“Oh, and—” Atsumu starts. Sakusa is about to walk away but turns around. “I— Um, good luck with yer university applications!”

“Thank you.” Then Sakusa walks away, and Atsumu curses at himself for being such a damn coward.

When it’s time for the award ceremony, Atsumu watches with a pit in his stomach as the Itachiyama players receive their silver medals. 

But when it’s Inarizaki’s turn to receive the gold medals, Atsumu's all smiles. He won’t let anything dampen his mood—he’s been dreaming of this moment for years. He’s not going to sulk now that it’s finally come true.

When everyone has a medal around their neck, Atsumu is asked to go and receive their trophy. He gives a polite bow to the people giving out the awards, then accepts the trophy and turns to his team, beaming. He skips to them, and they erupt in cheers and whistles when Atsumu lifts the golden cup above his head.

When the ceremony’s over and everyone’s had their turn at holding the trophy, they leave the court and step into a crowded lobby. A few sports journalists pull Atsumu away for a quick interview. He tells all of them the same thing—he came into this tournament knowing they would win, and he’s rarely wrong. The interviewers are also interested in what Atsumu plans to do after high school, and Atsumu promises all of them that this isn’t the last they’ll see of him.

After the fourth interviewer lets him go, yet another person calls Astumu’s name, but he doesn’t look like a reporter.

“Hello, Miya-kun. Congratulations on your victory.”

“Thank you!”

The man hands out his card to Atsumu. “I’m Masuyama Hideki from MSBY Black Jackals. We’ll organize try-outs in May, and we’d love to have you there. If you’re interested, please let me know, and I’ll provide you with more details.”

Atsumu glances at the card in awe. “Thank you, sir. I’ll definitely be in touch!”

“I hope so. And I hope you have a fun night celebrating your win,” Masuyama says with a smile and nods goodbye to Atsumu.

Atsumu spots some of his teammates gathering up on the opposite side of the lobby and starts toward them, but he keeps getting stopped by representatives from other V.League teams who advertise their upcoming try-outs to him as well. By the time he reaches his team, he has six cards in his hand.

“Finally,” Osamu groans. “Mr. Popular deems us worthy of his time.”

He snatches the cards from Atsumu’s hand. Atsumu protests and reaches to grab the cards back, but Osamu pushes him away.

“Calm down. I just wanna see.” He flips through the cards quickly. “Damn, the pro teams are lining up to sign ya.”

“‘Course they are! Who wouldn’t want me on their team?”

“The best two teams of this season, it seems,” Osamu says and hands the cards—none of which are from the Adlers or the Warriors—back to Atsumu.

“Well, they’re missing out,” Atsumu scoffs and grabs the cards.

They go to locker rooms to change out of their uniforms. The drive back to Hyogo takes almost seven hours, but they still stop at a restaurant to eat a celebratory dinner. No one cares that they’ll be home late. The medals around their necks will make up for a few hours of lost sleep.

It feels weird to walk to Inarizaki’s volleyball gym and not change into practice gear, but there's no need this time—Atsumu isn’t there to play volleyball, but to give one last speech to his kouhais. Atsumu hopes it’s somewhat encouraging, but in all honesty, he’s the one in need of encouragement.

It feels weird to watch his kouhais receive their jerseys for the next year as he stands in the sidelines with his fellow third-years.

Ah, the tradition continues, Atsumu thinks as he watches Riseki cry over his captain’s jersey.

It feels weird to say goodbye to the team. It feels wrong—leaving the gym at the start of practice rather than at the end of it. Listening to the faint sound of volleyball shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor when he’s been the one making those sounds for three years.

Atsumu asked Coach Kurosu for permission to join the team practice every now and then before he graduates, so it’s not like he’ll never step foot in that gym again. But it won’t be with the boys he tried out for the team with three years ago and who he has been playing with ever since.

It won’t be the same.

The glory of winning gold at nationals slowly fades into the background of everyone's minds. Atsumu’s friends stress over final exams and university applications instead. Atsumu talks over his training plan for the V.League try-outs with Coach Kurosu.

Atsumu’s friends receive the letters that determine the rest of their lives—or at least the next year of them—one by one. Osamu gets into the culinary school in Kobe he wanted to. Suna gets into a university with a decent collegiate volleyball team in Yokohama. Atsumu joins the Inarizaki volleyball team for practice games and stays late on the court to hone his sets and serves.

Those of Atsumu’s friends who secured a place at a school start looking for accommodation and making other arrangements, and those who didn’t start looking for jobs and making backup plans for their gap year. Atsumu starts doing weight training at the school gym and increasing the duration and intensity of his runs to strengthen his muscles and improve his endurance.

The rest of the school year after the Spring High always flies by for Atsumu, and this year is no exception. Saying goodbye to his teachers with a diploma in his hand feels weird, too, and Atsumu can’t decide if it's too soon or not soon enough.

On the 20th of March, Atsumu stares at his phone screen, talking himself into sending a message, then backtracking and talking himself out of it. In the end, he decides to bite the bullet and sends it.

To: Omi-kun
> happy bday, omi! :)

A day passes before Sakusa replies.

From: Omi-kun
> Thank you.

To: Omi-kun
> have you heard anything from the universities you applied to?

Two days pass before Sakusa replies.

From: Omi-kun
> I got into Ashitama.

To: Omi-kun
> wow, that’s great!!! congrats!

Four days pass before Sakusa replies.

From: Omi-kun
> Thank you.

Atsumu sighs, wondering if it’s even worth asking what Sakusa’s going to major in.

“Hey scrub, stop staring at yer phone and help me with this, wouldja?”

Atsumu shoots Osamu a glare but pockets his phone. “I wouldn’t hafta help ya if ya weren’t so weak.”

Osamu lets go of the armchair he’d been trying to move, the two legs he’d managed to lift dropping to the floor with a thump. He motions toward the chair theatrically. “Let’s see ya carry this alone, then.”

Atsumu puffs up his chest and saunters to the chair, but his attempt at moving it isn’t much better than Osamu’s.

Osamu shoots him an infuriatingly smug look that screams, I toldja so.

Atsumu blows a raspberry at him. “Yer boyfriend should be here to carry all yer shit. Isn’t that what they’re for?”

Unfortunately, Suna moved to Yokohama the previous weekend, so Atsumu has suffered the hapless fate of having to help his twin move.

“Nah. That’s what twin brothers are for. Or at least that’s the only thing mine’s good for.”

“Ya ungrateful piece of—”

“Alright, boys,” their dad interjects. “More carrying and less squabbling, please. Otherwise Samu’s never gonna finish moving outta the house.”

That wouldn’t be so bad, Atsumu thinks but goes to help Osamu with carrying the armchair anyway.

Once they’ve loaded all of Osamu’s belongings into the van they rented for the day, they drive to Osamu’s dorm room in Kobe and help him put everything in place. By the time they’re done, the sun has already set. The place is still in disarray, but Atsumu has already had to endure an hour of a hangry Osamu barking orders at him, and the rest of them are getting peckish too, so they decide to leave the rest of the decorating for Osamu. Osamu feels like eating western food, and after 15 minutes of extensive searching, he finds an Italian restaurant that meets his criteria within walking distance of his dorm.

They all order pizzas, and Atsumu prays their order will arrive quickly with Osamu’s mood souring with every passing second. Fortunately, they get their food in only 15 minutes, and the discontent frown on Osamu’s face is replaced by childlike delight.

Osamu takes a bite and closes his eyes. “So good,” he drawls blissfully, mouth full of food.

Atsumu has no idea how Osamu’s able to enjoy the bite since it was still steaming hot when he put it into his mouth.

“Why is it that whenever ya get good food yer mental age regresses by, like, five years?” Atsumu huffs while he waits for his slice to cool down a bit.

Osamu opens his eyes to glower at Atsumu. “Like yer one to talk. Yer table manners are worse than a toddler’s.”

“Yer argument would be stronger if ya didn’t have tomato sauce on yer chin.”

Osamu wipes his chin with a napkin and levels Atsumu with a flat look when the napkin comes out clean.

Atsumu grins at Osmau, sticking his tongue out. “Gotcha.”

“That’s just further proof for my point—yer such a child.”

Atsumu simply shrugs and takes a bite out of his now cooled pizza.

“It’s gonna be so quiet in the house without yer constant bickering,” their dad sighs.

Their mom nods in agreement. “I can’t believe yer moving out already,” she sniffs. “Feels like it was just yesterday that we came home from the hospital, wondering if we got ya mixed up ‘cause ya were so damn difficult to tell apart as newborns. And now yer all grown up, starting yer own lives.”

“Ma, we’re not moving to the other side of the world. Stop crying,” Atsumu pleads and hands a napkin to his mom to dry her tears.

Atsumu’s a sympathetic crier, so if his mom keeps crying, it won’t be long before he’s bawling his eyes out too. It seems to be too late, though—the napkin isn’t enough to fight off his mom’s tears, and Atsumu can feel his own eyes getting wet too.

“I’ll just really miss ya,” she sobs as their dad rubs soothing circles on her back.

Osamu stops stuffing his face with pizza for a second. “Ma, it’s okay. We’ll still visit ya. I’m only a 30-minute train ride away from Akashi.”

“I know, I know. But it won’t be the same. Yer gonna understand how I feel when ya have kids of yer own.”

Right. Atsumu will understand when he has children. As if that’s something Atsumu wants. Now, he knows he’s still quite young, and he might come to change his mind, even if it seems very unlikely. But it still annoys him that his mom assumes Atsumu will want kids at some point. He’s not in the mood to try to explain that to her right now, though, so he doesn’t say anything.

They finish their pizzas and order some gelato for dessert. On the walk back to Osamu’s dorm, Atsumu and Osamu fall a few steps behind their parents. 

“Ya never apologized to him, didja?” Osamu asks, not needing to specify who he’s talking about.

“Nope,” Atsumu says and kicks a rock. It bounces on the concrete a few times before rolling into a drain.

“Yeah, I figured as much. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think all the blame’s on ya,” Osamu muses. “What ya did was definitely shitty, and not clearing things up afterwards was even shittier. I get that Sakusa was upset, but friendships require work from both parties. He coulda said something too, y’know?”

Atsumu hums and hunches into his jacket. The warmth of spring has arrived in Hyogo, but it’s chilly now that the sun has set.

What Osamu said is technically true, but it doesn’t make Atsumu feel much better—it doesn’t change the fact that Atsumu isn’t currently talking with someone he considered a good friend half a year ago.

They walk the rest of the way to the dorms in silence. There’s a lonely cherry tree in the front yard that must have just burst into bloom. Atsumu watches the pink petals lit by streetlights as their parents hug Osamu goodbye. Tears are threatening to fall out of their mom’s eyes again, and she reminds Osamu three times that he can call them whenever.

“I don’t care if it’s three in the morning. If ya wanna call, I’ll pick up,” she sniffs.

Their dad gives Osamu one final pat on the back before they walk away, telling Atsumu they’ll wait for him in the van. Atsumu hears the van’s doors open and close, but he finds it difficult to pry his eyes away from the cherry tree.

“Are ya gonna say something, or?” Osamu says. “I’m kinda freezing out here, so if not, I’ll just go inside.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “I’m just wondering why I’m not over the moon right now. I’m finally getting rid of the bane of my existence, after all.”

“Shoulda known you’d be too proud to admit yer gonna miss me,” Osamu sighs.

Atsumu shoots a glare at him. “‘Course I’m gonna fucking miss ya.”

Osamu notices the tears glistening in the corners of Atsumu’s eyes and opens his arms. “Alright then.”

Atsumu accepts the hug gladly. “Ya better not forget about me. I don’t care how many new cool friends ya make and how great yer new life is,” he sniffs.

“Unfortunately it’s impossible to forget ya. I would if I could, though. It would make my life a lot easier.”

“Fuck off.”

After a few more seconds Atsumu lets go of Osamu and wipes his tears. “Go cry yerself to sleep since yer too embarrassed to do it in front of me.”

“I don’t need to cry myself to sleep. It’s gonna be easy to fall asleep now that I don’t hafta listen to yer snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Keep telling yerself that,” Osamu shrugs and starts toward the front door.

“Good night to ya too, scrub. And pick up whenever I call ya!” Atsumu shouts after his twin.

Osamu just gives him a wave before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Atsumu joins his parents in the van. As soon as they arrive at home, Atsumu dials Osamu’s number. He half-expects Osamu not to pick up since it’s been only 30 minutes since they parted ways, but he answers the call after only one ring, and they talk for over an hour.

Atsumu calls Osamu the next day too. And the next.

“Jeez, am I gonna hafta speak with ya every day for the rest of my life? Ya don’t gotta call every single night,” Osamu complains on the third day.

“Screw ya. Like ya don’t sit there every night, missing me, waiting for my call.”

The next day, Atsumu doesn’t call, though. He does it mostly out of pettiness—let Osamu be the one to call Atsumu when he gets homesick. However, Osamu doesn’t even text him that day. Does he actually not miss Atsumu at all? Did Atsumu’s constant calls really just make Osamu tired of him?

So, Atsumu doesn’t call Osamu on the next day, or the day after that. On the third day, Osamu finally calls him.

“Why’d ya stop calling?” he demands. Based on the noises Atsumu hears in the background, Osamu’s in the middle of cooking dinner.

“Ya told me not to call ya every night.”

“And? Since when have ya listened to me?”

Atsumu smirks. “So ya do miss me.”

“Nah. It’s just that if ya don’t call me, I’m gonna think you’ve done something stupid and ended up in a ditch or in jail or something.”

“Aww, so ya worry about me? Wouldja come and bail me outta jail if they locked me up?”

“Fat chance."

“Wow, what a great brother I have. Well, anyway. Tell me about yer day. Yer classes started today, right?”

Osamu tells about his first day of orientation and his classmates. Then he goes on to explain more about the curriculum and what they’re going to do during their first year. It’s oddly comforting—with the clangs of pots and pans and the sizzling of whatever Osamu’s frying in the background, Atsumu can almost imagine Osamu’s back at home, cooking in their kitchen as Atsumu sits on the counter, swinging his legs and babbling on.

April passes surprisingly fast. Calling Osamu almost every night. Hanging out with him when he comes back to Akashi for a visit. Working out and training at the local volleyball gym. And then, in May, taking the shinkansen to Osaka.

Atsumu accepted that he wouldn’t be playing with Osamu anymore when he told he would quit, and Atsumu’s gotten used to playing without him at the national training camps. But it’s not until he’s standing on the court at the try-outs, where everyone is a complete stranger to him, that it hits him—he’s in this alone now.

And it’s not just Osamu’s presence that’s painfully obvious. He misses his other team members too. The ones he’s known since the previous try-outs he attended.

At the previous try-outs, Atsumu wasn’t this nervous, though. In fact, Atsumu can’t remember the last time he was this nervous before playing volleyball. Even before the Spring High finals, he was a little jittery at best.

However, as much as he wanted to win every tournament he ever played in, the stakes feel much higher today—this day will determine his future. It’s not like there aren’t other teams he can try out for, but he really wants to get into the Jackals. Especially with Osamu studying in Kobe, Atsumu wants to stay close to Hyogo, but neither of the other two teams based in Osaka have invited him to their try-outs. And location aside, the more Atsumu watched the Jackals’ game recordings, the more he felt he would fit in well with the team.

So, even though Atsumu’s a nervous wreck, he’ll be damned if he lets any of that affect his gameplay today. He’s dreamt of this moment for ages, and it’s a small part of a much, much bigger dream. If he wants to play volleyball professionally, he has to shine today.

And shine he does. He makes sure his form is impeccable at all times. He’s the most focused he’s been in his entire life, making as few mistakes as possible. And the mistakes that he does make, he gets over without any dramatics and makes sure he doesn’t repeat them.

Atsumu leaves the try-outs fairly certain that he’ll get a spot on the team. The other two setter hopefuls simply couldn’t hold a candle to him, and it’s not just his usual cockiness talking. Based on the coaches’ and other players’ reactions, they thought Atsumu did really well too. 

Sure enough, only a few days after the try-outs, Atsumu gets a call from Coach Foster who offers him a spot on the team.

“You’ll be on the bench at first, but with your skills, I can’t imagine it’s long before we can start putting you on the court,” he explains with his accented Japanese.

Foster offers Atsumu some time to think about his decision, but Atsumu doesn’t need it. He had planned to attend the other try-outs he was invited to as well, but the Jackals were always his first choice. So, he has no reason not to accept the offer right away, and soon he’s signing contracts and making arrangements to move to Osaka.

Atsumu is expected to start practicing with the Jackals in July, and he’s in no hurry to move to Osaka any sooner than that. When the time comes to move, Atsumu forces Osamu to come and help him since Atsumu broke his back carrying boxes and furniture when Osamu moved.

Atsumu will live at the accommodation the Jackals offered him, which is a dorm room with a private bathroom and a shared kitchen. Atsumu would’ve liked his own apartment, but in his current financial state, the dorm room is all he can afford. He doesn’t mind it, though. After sharing a house with three people for his entire life, a bigger apartment would’ve probably felt empty with only him living in it anyway. Plus, the dorm is close to the gym where the Jackals train.

There are only five other players living at the dorms, all of them benchwarmers. Atsumu has to remind himself that he’ll also be on the bench now. It’s weird to think about—he’s been a starter in his team for eight years, and now he’ll be lucky if he gets put on the court. He’s determined to get off that bench as soon as possible, though.

When Atsumu goes to bed after saying goodbye to his parents and Osamu, he’s afraid he won’t be able to sleep in the pin-drop silence of his new room. He falls asleep quickly, though, and sleeps soundly through the night. It’s the morning that he finds unbearable—waking up and knowing that there’s no one else in the house. No one else to eat breakfast and chat with.

Atsumu can’t bring himself to get up. What is he supposed to even do? It’s only two days before practice starts, but suddenly two days feel like an eternity. So much time, and no idea how to spend it.

He decides to go for a run, but even though he gets lost three times in the unfamiliar neighborhood, it’s barely 9 o’clock when he gets back. By the time he’s showered and prepared himself a quick breakfast, he still has twelve full hours before it’s acceptable to go back to bed.

He wishes he hadn’t gone grocery shopping with his family yesterday so he’d have that to cross off his to-do list. He doesn’t even need to clean. Man, he wishes there was something to clean—and there are few things Atsumu finds more boring than cleaning.

He calls Osamu, but he doesn’t pick up. A few minutes later he sends Atsumu a text, explaining that he’s working on a group presentation with a few of his classmates and promises to call back later.

In what kinda lame-ass culinary school do you have to give presentations? And what kinda lame-ass people work on ‘em on a Sunday?

Next, Atsumu dials his mom, but she’s visiting a colleague, so she can’t speak for long. His dad is with her, so Atsumu doesn’t have him to call, either.

Atsumu could play a game or watch something like he usually does, but his dorm room feels so bleak. So, he goes out again. He takes the subway to a shopping center—there are still a few items he needs to buy. However, once there, he doesn’t have any interest in browsing the shops, so he ends up walking aimlessly from store to store for two hours.

At least it’s lunch time when he gets back to his room, so he has something to do. He doesn’t spend much time cooking, though. For some reason he’s afraid of one of his teammates walking into the kitchen and having to converse with them. So, he puts together a quick ramen dish, and scurries away into his room. 

What next? A nap? Yes, a nap sounds good. Except that Atsumu can’t fall asleep, so he just lies in his bed, doing nothing, for an hour. Sighing, he gets up and takes out the laptop his parents bought for him as a graduation gift. He spends half an hour browsing different movies and TV shows, eventually settling on a comfort movie he’s seen at least five times before. Somehow, it’s able to keep him entertained until dinner time, after which Osamu finally calls him back, and their call is enough to get Atsumu through the rest of the night.

The next day is only marginally better, but at least Atsumu has been invited to the Jackals’ team dinner, hosted in honor of practice for the new season beginning. Honestly, despite having nothing else to do, Atsumu doesn’t really feel like going to the dinner, but he wants to get to know his teammates. He’s always had a good relationship with his teammates—felt a sense of belonging with them. Volleyball being a team sport is one of the reasons he loves it so much, so he doesn’t want to become a recluse in his new team.

The Jackals currently have 14 players, three of which are rookies—Atsumu, a Brazilian middle blocker called Diaz, and an opposite hitter called Matsuya. All three of them live at the dorms, so when Atsumu fails at his mission of avoiding his teammates and bumps into Diaz in the kitchen in the morning, they agree to go to the location of the team dinner together.

The restaurant is within walking distance from the dorms, and Diaz talks animatedly during the entire walk. Atsumu’s English is pretty good, even if he says so himself, and in fact, he’s excited to get to use it. However, it turns out Matsuya can barely speak the language, so Atsumu gets caught in two separate conversations—one with Diaz in English, and the other with Matsuya in Japanese. Occasionally they ask Atsumu to translate something for the other person, and overall, it’s quite a cumbersome conversation.

When they arrive at the restaurant, it doesn’t take long for them to locate the rest of the team, and Atsumu is relieved from the awkward conversation with his fellow rookies. However, conversing with the others isn’t much easier. All his teammates seem nice, but they’re all much older than Atsumu. Diaz is the closest to Atsumu in age, but even he’s four years older and falls into conversation more effortlessly with the older teammates.

His teammates make sure to include him in the conversation too, but it feels like they ask him questions out of obligation rather than genuine interest. Atsumu remembers Sakusa telling him that he feels similar talking with his older siblings. Is this how it’s like for Sakusa every time he meets them? That seems exhausting. Maybe he should ask Sakusa—

Atsumu winces. Right. Sakusa. Better stop that train of thought right there. Atsumu can’t help but wonder, though, if he’d have an easier time adjusting to living alone if he had Sakusa to talk to? Perhaps he wouldn’t have to wonder if he didn’t keep chickening out of something as simple as apologizing.

Atsumu’s pulled out of his thoughts when someone calls out to him.

“We haven’t met yet, but you must be Miya Atsumu.”

“The one and only,” he confirms.

The man holds out his hand. “Meian Shuugo.”

Atsumu didn’t need the introduction, of course. Meian is one of the starting middle blockers, so Atsumu’s seen him play plenty of times.

Atsumu takes his new teammate’s hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet ya, Meian-san.”

“When we heard you’d be joining the team, we had a look at some of your game tapes, and I have to say, you played really well. I’m looking forward to getting to hit your sets.”

“Me too,” Futagawa—the other middle blocker, and the captain of the team—chimes in.

“This is breaking my heart,” Nakamura, who is the current setter, says jokingly.

Atsumu chuckles. “Well, I’m honored to hear that. Looking forward to setting to y’all.”

Flattery has never failed to lift Atsumu’s mood, and especially coming from experienced volleyball professionals, the compliments instantly make him feel better. Though despite his improved mood, Atsumu doesn’t stay long after finishing his katsudon. He waves goodbye to his teammates and begins the walk back to the dorms. He calls Osamu to tell him about the dinner, and their call lasts long after Atsumu gets back to his room.

Officially meeting his teammates got Atsumu looking forward to the first practice tomorrow, but he can’t shake the faint feeling of melancholy that’s been plaguing him for the past days. Or maybe it’s been there for months, and Atsumu didn’t notice it until he stood in his dorm room alone, only his own thoughts keeping him company. There truly is no going back to how things were—this is his life now.

Atsumu considers texting Sakusa to ask how his first year at university has kicked off, but ends up not doing it. Sakusa didn’t appreciate Atsumu’s attempts at small talk when Atsumu wished him happy birthday, and that was three months after the training camp. Now, it’s been over six months since the camp, so the reception would likely be even icier. 

Perhaps he needs to just let it go. People drift apart all the time. It sucks that it happened to them, but if Atsumu’s not ready to do anything to revive their friendship, there’s no point in dwelling on it. There’s another reason to look forward to the start of practice—he can use volleyball as a distraction from everything else.

Chapter Text

Volleyball, as always, helps Atsumu get back on track in his life. Most of all, it keeps him busy and brings routine to his life. He no longer has to agonize over things as simple as how to spend his days.

He has team practice once or twice a day on weekdays, with an occasional weekend session thrown in. On days with only one practice session, Atsumu usually heads to the gym or goes for a run. In the evenings, he watches volleyball either live or recorded to study how the best setters in the world run the game.

A little after Atsumu joins the team he’s invited to a meeting with the Jackals’ athletic trainer. He helps Atsumu come up with a personal training plan to make sure he gets the most out of his training without overworking and risking injuring himself. Atsumu knows overtraining is no joke, so he’s always made sure to give his body enough ime to rest even if all he wanted to do is keep playing. However, now that he’s working toward becoming the starting setter, he can’t deny that the thought of training relentlessly is tempting.

Atsumu also meets with the team’s nutritionist, who gives him advice on his meal plan. Atsumu says a bittersweet goodbye to all the fast food and treats he now has to avoid, though he also feels kind of invigorated leaving the meeting—the training and meal plans make him truly feel like the professional athlete that he is now.

Even though Atsumu gets some structure into his new life, he can’t help but miss his old life. It’s not that he wants to go back to high school, because he doesn’t miss studying in the slightest. His life at home was just so easy and comfortable. He knows he probably just hasn’t gotten used to all the changes that his life has undergone recently. Maybe after a bit more time, he’ll be able to focus on all the good things those changes have brought, rather than on what they’ve taken away from him. But that’s not the case quite yet, and Atsumu feels a little lost.

When August rolls around, Atsumu figures he needs to do something about his hair. He and Osamu bleached their roots before Osamu moved out in March, but that was over four months ago, so it’s safe to say that Atsumu’s growth has gotten out of hand. It’s so bad that he’s embarrassed to leave his room without a cap on.

Atsumu and Osamu have started to do video calls instead of regular calls now that they see each other less often, so Atsumu can see that the state of Osamu’s hair is just as bad the next time they’re on a call. 

“By the way, d’ya wanna bleach our roots the next time I visit ya?” Atsumu suggests. “Shoulda done it months ago.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’m gonna keep bleaching it. I’ll just let it grow out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was fun while it lasted, but it’s getting kinda boring now. I wanna change things up a lil’, ya know?”

“It’s you that’s getting boring,” Atsumu huffs. “How is dyed hair more boring than yer natural hair?”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “It’s not the color itself, but the fact that I’ve had the same hairstyle for three years. Besides, it started to feel kinda childish, having the same hairstyle I had when I was fifteen.”

“It’s called looking youthful, not childish. But if ya wanna look like an old geezer, go ahead. It’s just gonna make it more obvious which one of us is the better looking twin. The blonde has always looked better on me than the gray on ya, anyway.”

“The blonde—” Osamu makes air quotes around the word “—looks like a stack of hay on yer head. And the color doesn’t matter much when we’re thirty and yer bald from all the bleach damage while I still have a full head of nice and shiny hair.”

Atsumu blows a raspberry straight into the phone’s microphone and throws a few more insults at Osamu. When they end the call, Atsumu stays lying on his bed and opens the front camera on his phone to study himself. He tugs at his hair, and winces once more at the state it’s currently in.

Atsumu has no idea how to go about bleaching his roots on his own. He closes the camera app and looks up how to bleach your own hair, and while it doesn't seem too difficult, he’s not in the mood to even try. Osamu would probably still help Atsumu even if he doesn’t want to bleach his own hair anymore, but Atsumu doesn’t feel like asking. It wouldn’t be the same as the nights they spent in the bathroom of their old home.

Atsumu sighs melodramatically—yet another tradition gone.

The next day, he decides that he deserves a little pampering and books an appointment at a nearby hair salon. When the hairdresser asks what kind of cut Atsumu’s looking for, Atsumu shows him a picture of his usual haircut. The hairdresser doesn’t seem too enthusiastic to replicate it, though.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something a little different this time?” he asks politely, but Atsumu hears his patronizing undertone.

“I like my hair blonde,” he says, frowning.

“Oh, I’m not saying we should get rid of the blonde, but may I suggest a few changes?”

Atsumu nods tentatively, but when the hairdresser pulls out his phone to show Atsumu some pictures of what he has in mind, Atsumu deems the guy knowledgeable enough and gives him permission to do what he thinks is best.

The haircut itself isn’t too different from what Atsumu’s used to, but the hairdresser bleaches it a little lighter and shows Atsumu a simple way to style his hair. Apparently, Atsumu has slightly wavy hair, and with only a few steps, he can bring out the natural waves.

The hairdresser also asks about how Atsumu takes care of his hair. Atsumu explains his usual hair-care routine—or rather, the lack thereof—and the hairdresser visibly cringes. He tells Atsumu about toners and recommends a brand of purple shampoo. Atsumu eyes the bottle carefully—he’s not about to get scammed and buy an overpriced product that doesn’t do anything. The hairdresser must notice his skepticism, because he offers to sell the shampoo to Atsumu with a hefty discount since he’s a first-time customer at their salon.

So, Atsumu leaves the place with a bottle of purple shampoo, and he makes sure to start using it right away when he washes his hair that night.

The next morning, Atsumu wakes up an hour earlier than usual to make sure he has time to style his hair. He follows the steps the hairdresser taught him, and though he finds out that his hand-eye coordination sucks when he’s using a mirror, the result is decent for his first attempt. 

Looking at himself in the mirror, Atsumu runs his hand through his hair one last time. The result is more than decent, actually.

Now, Atsumu knows he and Osamu are considered conventionally good-looking, but he’s never really seen it himself. It’s not that he’s insecure—he’s never had a problem with the way he looks. He just hasn’t paid much heed to his appearance.

But now, looking at himself in the mirror, he can’t help but think he looks good.

The new hairstyle definitely plays a part in it. Atsumu isn’t too proud to admit that the way the hairdresser taught him to style his hair is a hundred times better than what Atsumu has been doing for the past years.

But it’s not just the hair. At the end of the day, Atsumu doesn’t look that different. But it’s like the way he sees himself is different. And he feels different. Atsumu feels more comfortable with himself, more confident.

He’s never felt the need to dress up to look more attractive, and in light of his recent realizations, it makes sense that he wouldn’t have. That’s probably why he hasn’t had a problem with his looks—why would he have cared if he looked good or not, since there was never anyone to look good for? But now he realizes that he can look good, and it doesn’t have to be for anyone else. No matter how much effort he puts into his appearance, it’ll only be for his own sake. Somehow, the realization feels freeing.

Others are free to agree that he’s handsome, of course—and who wouldn’t? But even if they didn’t, what difference would it make to Atsumu? He’s not trying to impress anyone. He looks really good, but most of all, he feels really good about himself.

The Jackals’ publicist encouraged Atsumu to start using social media to improve his public image and popularity, which will help him secure sponsorships and brand deals in the future. Atsumu pulls on his team jersey and track jacket, snaps a photo of himself in the mirror, and posts it on his freshly-created social media accounts.

He also sends a photo of his new hair to Osamu.

To: the spare one
> [picture]
> regretting your decision to be boring already?

From: the spare one
> No, but ask yourself that question in 10 years🧑‍🦲

The closer the start of the V.League season gets, the busier Atsumu becomes. Not only does the team practice more, but they also have a few interviews and photo shoots. Since Atsumu’s still a rookie, he doesn’t have to participate in that many interviews, but as one of the best high school players, there is a certain level of interest the media have in him, so he gets asked a few questions as well. Though not before the team’s PR agent gives him a quick rundown on how to interact with the media.

Atsumu welcomes the hectic schedule gladly. He still feels a little adrift in his life, but that doesn’t apply to when he’s working—whether that’s practicing with the team, training on his own, or answering the media’s questions. Besides, he likes his teammates, and likes spending time with them. At practice, that is.

Atsumu doesn’t mind joining his dorm neighbors for dinner every now and then, either, although he still enjoys most of his meals in the solitude of his room. He even joins the occasional team outings in an effort to get to know everyone better, but those only serve to make it clearer to Atsumu that the only time he truly feels part of the team is when he’s on the court with them.

Again, there’s nothing wrong with Atsumu’s teammates—he just doesn’t feel a connection with any of them. And honestly, that’s fine. He didn’t use to be best buds with all of his Inarizaki teammates either. It’s just that Atsumu doesn’t really have anyone to spend time with outside practice.

While he wasn’t super close with his old teammates, they still spent a lot of time together. Whenever Atsumu wanted to go to the movies, or sit in a park eating snacks, or anything really, he had someone to do it with. But now he doesn’t, and since he doesn’t feel like going to the movies or to the park alone, he mostly just stays home when he isn’t at practice or training on his own.

At least Osamu takes care of his twin duties and graciously finds the time to travel to Osaka or host Atsumu in Kobe once or twice a month. Atsumu sees their parents once or twice a month too, and occasionally the twins' schedules align so that they can visit their childhood home together.

When Atsumu heard Suna was going to travel to Osaka for a practice match in July, he suggested they meet up. It turned out that Suna already had plans to travel to Kobe to see Osamu right after the match, so he didn’t have time. Then Atsumu suggested that he could visit Suna when the Jackals have a practice match in Yokohama, but apparently Suna wasn’t home, as he was visiting Osamu that weekend too.

Osamu frequently travels to visit Suna as well. By the sounds of it, they see each other almost every week despite being separated by a two-and-a-half-hour train ride. Atsumu wonders how they can find the time for that every week despite their studies, but apparently they burn the midnight oil during the weekdays so that they can spend the weekends together.

Atsumu both understands their dedication to seeing each other so often, and doesn’t. As in, he knows it’s important for couples to spend time together, but isn’t spending almost all your free time with your boyfriend a bit too much? What about spending time with your friends? 

Atsumu acknowledges that he isn’t the best of friends with Suna—even if he considers Suna his best friend now that he blew it with Sakusa—but they became pretty close during their third year of high school. So, he’d expect Suna to want to spend time with him at least every now and then instead of dedicating all his time to Osamu.

And it’s not even only about Atsumu wanting Suna to spend more time with him. It doesn’t sound like Suna, or Osamu for that matter, has much time for any other friends, either. Saying that Atsumu is worried about them is a bit of an exaggeration, but even though he’s sure spending time with your partner is great and all, having time for only your boyfriend sounds kind of lonely to him. But perhaps he only thinks that way since he doesn’t know what it’s like to be in love.

At least Atsumu and Suna regularly text each other. That’s more than Atsumu can say about his other old teammates. Atsumu knows Ginjima is studying to become a personal trainer in Osaka, so he could reach out to him and ask if he’s up for doing something together, but in all honesty, he doesn’t want to. He liked hanging out with him in high school when they were teammates, but now that they don’t have that in common anymore, Atsumu has no motivation to put in the effort and suggest meeting up.

The same goes for the other teammates Atsumu used to hang out with—they’re okay, but Atsumu can’t be bothered to try to maintain the friendship he had with them. And seeing that they haven’t reached out to Atsumu either, the feeling is probably mutual.

Though that means that the only people currently in Atsumu’s life are his twin, his twin’s boyfriend, and his parents, and that sounds extremely lame.

When coming home from the supermarket one day, Atsumu runs into one of his downstairs neighbors—Akane, if he remembers correctly. He met her when he was moving in, and she seemed nice, welcoming Atsumu to the building and even asking if Atsumu needed help with anything. Atsumu turned her offer down since he had his family to help him, but she assured him that if Atsumu ever needed help with anything, she’d be happy to lend a hand.

Their chat is short but pleasant, and since Atsumu probably needs to put in some effort if he wants to find new friends, the next time their paths cross in the stairwell, he asks if she wants to go for a walk together someday. That’s a non-creepy activity to suggest doing with someone, right? 

At least Akane doesn’t seem creeped out, and gladly agrees. They take the subway to one of Atsumu’s favorite parks in the city. The weather’s nice, so Atsumu offers to buy them ice cream. He figures it’s polite since he’s the one who asked her to go for a walk with him. They walk around the ponds and flower beds while getting to know each other. Atsumu likes Akane. She’s got a good sense of humor—as in, she laughs at Atsumu’s jokes—and she seems genuinely interested in what Atsumu tells her about himself.

However, when Atsumu’s back in his room after she hugged him goodbye, Atsumu realizes that she probably thought it was a date they were on. Maybe she wouldn’t mind hanging out as just friends, but Atsumu doesn’t feel like explaining that he doesn’t see her that way, so he doesn’t suggest hanging out again. She never reaches out to him either. When they bump into each other again a few weeks later, Atsumu's glad to see that things didn’t become awkward between them.

Things are so far from awkward, in fact, that Atsumu can’t help but wonder if he was being paranoid and imagining things. Did Sakusa’s crush on him freak him out so badly that now every time someone shows any interest in him, Atsumu automatically assumes it’s romantic interest?

Oh well. She was a little boring, anyway.

The Jackals’ season kicks off with a match against EJP Raijin. It’s a close one, but the Shizuoka team is a tad better and takes the win. Atsumu would be bummed out by the loss if he hadn’t spent every second of the game watching it from the sidelines. Since he also spends all their other matches on the bench, the beginning of the season doesn’t change Atsumu’s life much. The team practices a bit more, and they travel somewhere for a game almost every week, but that’s it.

Most of Atsumu’s high school teammates have started to use social media, and while it’s a nice way to stay caught up on their lives, seeing their posts sometimes feels like rubbing salt to Atsumu’s wounds. Like now, when Atsumu’s laying on his bed in pajamas on a Saturday night, scrolling through pictures of his friends having fun.

He hears a group of people burst into laughter in the room above his. The rooms on his floor are quiet, which is to be expected considering all the weekend plans Atsumu’s dormmates told him about after the match they had yesterday.

Atsumu suddenly feels very bored all by himself, but Osamu’s visiting Suna, so there’s no point in texting either of them. On a whim, Atsumu dials a number he was explicitly told he could call, but he still feels like he’s doing something he isn’t supposed to. 

The phone rings five times, and each ring feels more excruciating than the previous one. Right as Atsumu is about to chicken out and hang up, a familiar voice answers the call.

“Hey, Kita-san,” Atsumu greets back. “Did I call at a bad time?”

“No, not at all. I was just watching TV, but my phone was charging upstairs so it took me a while to get to it.”

“That’s good then,” Atsumu says, a little awkwardly. “Um, I was just calling to catch up a little.”

“Yes, there is a lot to catch up on. I heard from Aran-kun that you got into the Jackals. Congratulations.”

“Thanks! Yeah, it’s been a lot to get used to. You’d think volleyball is volleyball, but I guess quite different when it’s yer job.”

“Hmm. It took a while for Aran to settle into the life of a professional athlete too. I’m sure it’s a big change with the strict training schedules and meal plans ya hafta follow.”

Atsumu lets out a confirming hum.

”And moving into a big city where you don’t know anyone must make it even more overwhelming,” Kita continues. “How have ya found living on yer own? Get along with yer teammates fine?”

It seems Kita’s still as attentive as ever. Somehow, only a minute into the call, he’s been able to determine what’s plaguing Atsumu. Atsumu’s loneliness might’ve been the reason he called Kita, but he doesn't want Kita to think he only called him because he was feeling lonely, or because he wants pity. So, Atsumu focuses on the positives, telling Kita that he likes how busy volleyball keeps him, and that he really enjoys playing with his team.

His lack of friends must come across from his rambling anyway, because Kita suggests Atsumu reach out to Aran.

“Aran actually recently asked me if I’d heard anything from you. He said he’s looking forward to seeing you at games once the season starts, but I’m sure he’d like to meet ya on other occasions as well.”

Kita’s suggestion sounds casual, but Atsumu can tell Kita only brought it up because he sensed Atsumu’s plaintive undertones.

Atsumu knows Aran lives in Osaka, of course, since he plays for the Osaka-based Tachibana Red Falcons. But even though they met back in middle school, and Atsumu has always considered Aran a friend, it’s the same with Aran as it is with Atsumu’s other old friends—the only thing that really connected them was that they went to the same school and played for the same team. And while Atsumu never looked up to Aran like he does to Kita, the age difference still played a small part in the two of them never becoming that close.

“Yeah, it’d be nice to catch up with Aran-kun too! Maybe I’ll reach out to him.”

“Hmm.” Kita must’ve heard it in Atsumu’s tone that Atsumu isn’t considering reaching out to Aran very seriously, because his hum sounds disappointed.

Atsumu swallows. Kita’s disappointment is not something he ever wants to be the reason for.

”Um, anyway, how have ya been?”

Atsumu learns that Kita’s helping out and learning the ropes at his grandfather's rice farm and taking online classes on agriculture. His apprenticeship keeps him busy, but he still occasionally plays volleyball with the community team at a nearby village, and visits Aran in Osaka if he’s ever able to have a day off.

As Kita talks about his life at the farm, Atsumu finds out that Kita’s attentiveness isn’t the only quality he’s kept since his high school days. He still has that calm and composed air about him, and Atsumu finds it comforting. It takes him back to the quiet nights during Inarizaki’s training camps, when the team was sitting on their futons in some dingy classroom, chatting about anything and everything. When even Atsumu was too tired to cause trouble, and just enjoyed the feeling of warmth that being part of his team brought him.

Granted, he didn’t find those moments completely serene, since he was sort of terrified of Kita at the time. He still finds himself a little on his toes around Kita—Atsumu’s sure that a part of him will always regard Kita as his old captain who commands respect everywhere he goes—but with the official senpai-kouhai relationship gone, Atsumu can see them becoming good friends one day.

After the call, Atsumu checks the Jackals’ match schedule. They’ll play against the Falcons in a month. Atsumu could wait until then to ask Aran in person if he’s up for meeting up, but he decides to just get it over with and texts Aran to ask if he’d like to have dinner together at a curry place he’s been wanting to try out but been too embarrassed to go alone to.

Aran doesn’t reply that evening, and the wait is long enough for Atsumu to convince himself it was a stupid idea to reach out to him. Then he remembers it was actually Kita’s idea, and since Kita doesn’t get bad ideas, he’s probably fine. Sure enough, the next day, Aran replies that he’d love to meet up.

They get along better than Atsumu expected. He didn’t exactly think they’d be at odds with each other, but he was afraid they’d spend two hours making idle small talk, then part with empty promises of meeting again.

Like Kita said, Aran had some difficulties adapting to his life after moving away from home too, and it’s nice to talk to someone who can relate to Atsumu’s struggles. What’s more, since Aran already has a year of experience playing in the V.League, he has good tips to give on following the meal and training plans, pre- and post-game routines, and other aspects of the life of a professional athlete that Atsumu doesn’t have figured out himself quite yet.

It turns out the curry place Atsumu brought them to is absolutely worth the visit, because it’s among the best curries Atsumu’s had in his life. As they finish their meals, the conversation turns to what plans they have for the weekend. Atsumu tells somewhat self-consciously that he has no plans, while Aran has plans to visit Kita. 

“Do ya and Kita-san visit each other often?” Atsumu asks, remembering Kita mentioning something about visiting Aran too.

“Pretty often, yes. Not as often as I’d like, but he’s pretty tied up at the farm right now, so I usually have to travel there. Fortunately phones are a thing, so we can at least call each other every day.”

Atsumu nods slowly. “Ya guys seem pretty close.”

He knows Aran and Kita were good friends in high school, but he never realized they were that close. Atsumu’s a little jealous, actually. He’d love to have a friendship like that with someone.

Aran cocks his head, looking at Atsumu curiously. “Did Shin not tell ya we’re dating?”

“Huh? No, he didn’t.”

“It would be like him not to mention something like that unless he’s asked about it” Aran chuckles fondly. “But yeah, we kept seeing each other regularly even after we moved to different cities, and we started going out a few months ago.”

Ah. Well, it makes sense why they’d see each other so often then.

“That’s great to hear,” Atsumu says, and he hopes his smile looks genuine.

He is genuinely happy for them, but truth be told, Atsumu also feels a faint pang of disappointment. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but maybe it has to do with having yet another friend who’s in love with someone when that’s not something Atsumu can relate to. Or perhaps he was excited to have proof that not all really close relationships are romantic, only to receive proof of the opposite.

Atsumu and Aran part with promises to meet again, but unlike what Atsumu first feared, he believes they will actually follow through. Though after finding out that Aran and Kita are together, Atsumu can't help being a little skeptical that Aran will have time to see him. However, it turns out that Aran isn’t as hell-bent on spending every second of his free time with his boyfriend as Osamu and Suna are.

Though while Aran isn’t with his boyfriend all the time, he has quite a few friends who he spends time with in Osaka, since some of his old high school friends live in the city and he’s hit it off better with his current teammates than Atsumu has with his own.

For Atsumu, Aran is his only friend in Osaka, which means that he’s the only person Atsumu can ask whenever he wants company. Atsumu wouldn’t mind seeing Aran every week, but he’d feel a bit pathetic constantly asking Aran if he wants to do something together when he knows Aran has so many other friends as well.

However, one friend is a huge improvement from zero friends, so Atsumu can’t complain too much.

Atsumu thought Osamu would approve of the curry place he went to with Aran, so the next time Osamu visits him, he takes him there. Osamu is flatly against it at first, claiming that Atsumu’s judgement should never be trusted. Browsing the menu, he mumbles how the food will probably taste like cardboard because Atsumu doesn’t have any taste, but when he puts the first spoonful of the curry in his mouth, he can’t keep up the petulant act anymore.

“Didja know Kita-san and Aran-kun are dating now?” Atsumu asks, the restaurant reminding him of the conversation he had with Aran there.

“They are?” Osamu doesn’t look as surprised as Atsumu did when Aran broke the news to him.

“I didn’t, but I kinda called it, remember? At the shrine two years ago, I said they’d make a cute couple. Ya were like ‘Can’t people just be friends?’” he says, doing a terrible imitation of Atsumu’s voice. ”Seems like, once again, I was right and ya were wrong.”

Osamu looks way too smug. Atsumu wishes they weren’t in a public place so he could throw something at him. He settles for kicking him under the table.

Both Atsumu and Osamu go back to Akashi for the New Year. When Osamu arrives, it takes a moment for Atsumu to get used to the sight of him, as Osamu has finally managed to grow out the gray in his hair. He of course went through a phase with mostly dark hair with only his ends being gray—during which Atsumu made fun of him for looking like a reversed Kita—but it’s still weird seeing him with his hair completely back to its natural color.

On New Year’s Eve, the twins’ parents insist Suna join them for dinner.

“Rintarou-kun!” Their mom greets and wraps Suna in a hug the second he steps in through the door. “It’s been way too long since we last saw ya!”

“Tell me about it,” Atsumu huffs under his breath. The only one who seems to have heard him is Osamu, who elbows Atsumu to the side, even though Atsumu’s complaint is totally fair—he hasn’t seen Suna in ages either.

Osamu’s act of violence goes unnoticed by their mom, but of course when Atsumu retaliates, she catches it, and scolds Atsumu for causing a ruckus when they have a guest over. Atsumu shoots a glare at Osamu for making Atsumu the scapegoat again. But then their mom moves on to scolding Osamu about not bringing Suna along with him more often, so Atsumu figures they’re even.

As per family tradition, all four of the Miyas have a hand in cooking dinner, though Osamu is responsible for the majority of it. He’s also responsible for eating the majority of it. Atsumu has no idea how Osamu’s still in shape after quitting volleyball, given his appetite.

When Osamu reaches over the table to refill his plate with dumplings for the fourth time—the greedy pig—he accidentally bumps Suna’s plate, causing Suna’s chopsticks to fall onto the floor. Osamu curses and ducks below the table to pick up the chopsticks from Suna’s feet, but on his way down, he hits his forehead on the table. He curses again, this time with more fervor. Suna huffs an amused laugh at his boyfriend, but when Osamu emerges from underneath the table with Suna’s chopsticks in hand, Suna wraps an arm around his shoulders and plants a tender kiss on the sore spot on Osamu’s forehead. Osamu leans into the touch, smiling softly.

Atsumu would make a mocking remark at Osamu’s clumsiness if he wasn’t cringing at the overly sweet display of affection in front of him. 

The twins’ mom’s reaction is the complete opposite. “Ah, young love,” she says, staring at Suna and Osamu with a dopey smile, resting her chin on her hand. Their dad gives the couple a fond look too as he gets up to fetch a new pair of chopsticks for Suna.

Osamu rolls his eyes and leans away to sit in his own spot, but Suna doesn’t remove his arm from around his shoulders.

Their mom turns her head to look at her other son, and her smile morphs into something more mischievous. “So, Atsumu, when will ya bring someone to meet us? Met anyone special yet?”

Atsumu tenses but tries to keep his tone casual. “Nah.”

“Well, have ya at least put yerself out there?”

“I don’t have time to date around. I need to set my priorities straight, y’know? If I wanna become part of the starting roster, I gotta work hard.”

It’s a half-truth. Atsumu is busy with practice and physical training, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have time for dates if he was interested in going on any.

“Yes, it’s of course good to focus on yer career. And yer still so young, anyway. There’s no rush,” their dad says and pats Atsumu’s back before giving the chopsticks to Suna and sitting down.

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone good for ya when the time’s right,” their mom agrees and gives Atsumu a reassuring smile. “But remember to keep an open mind. If you’ve got tunnel vision with volleyball, the right person could be right under yer nose and you’d still not see ‘em.”

Atsumu hums, staring at his plate and poking at the untouched pieces of pork.

“Sometimes I just—” his mom begins at the same time as Osamu says, “Wait, I just remembered—”

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” Osamu apologizes. “But Ma and Pa, ya said ya wanna visit South Korea next summer, right? Have ya made any plans yet?”

Their parents start telling about all the interesting places in Korea that they’ve read about, and Atsumu’s grateful for the change of topic. He looks up to convey his gratitude, but Osamu is already looking at him, one eyebrow quirked, clearly expecting a thank you—as if it’s something Atsumu owes him. It’s pissing Atsumu off, so he ignores his twin instead.

The next day, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna visit the shrine together. Atsumu naturally wishes for good luck with stealing Nakamura’s position as the starting setter, and since the fortune on his omikuji reads small blessing, he feels optimistic that his wish will come true.

Sure enough, in the Jackals' first game of the new year, Atsumu’s called onto the court. It’s only to serve, but it’s a step in the right direction. Well, Atsumu hopes it’s a step in the right direction, as his serve lands out of bounds. He can’t have messed up that badly, though, because in the next game, he’s called in as a pinch server too, and this time he makes it count.

In the final game of the season, Atsumu even gets to substitute for Nakamura. Sure, the Jackals have already secured a place in the play-offs and hold a comfortable lead in the set, so Coach Foster’s decision is probably more about giving Nakamura a rest than about seeing Atsumu play. But to Atsumu’s credit, he doesn’t let the lead slip away.

In the play-offs, the Jackals’ end up placing fifth. Atsumu’s bummed out that his team didn’t place higher, of course, but seeing that in the match they lost, he was only put on court for ten minutes at the end of the third set—which they won—he doesn’t take the loss very personally. 

The final tournament the Jackals have before their break is Kurowashiki. A week before the start of it, Coach Foster announces that he plans to give an equal amount of playtime to both of the team’s setters, and after he dismisses everyone else, he pulls Atsumu aside for a short chat.

“I’m not putting you on the court because I think this tournament is unimportant. I want to give the team its best chance to win this tournament, as I would with any other. That said, I will be using the upcoming games to assess whether you might be ready to take Nakamura’s place next season. You’ve been working hard this past year, and I think that if you keep up the good work this summer, that spot could be yours.”

Atsumu stares at Foster in awe for a second before remembering to thank him for the chance and promising to give it his all.

As Coach Foster promised, he gives Atsumu plenty of chances to prove himself on the court during Kurowashiki. The Jackals make it to the play-offs with relative ease, but in the quarterfinals, they get unlucky and get the DESEO Hornets, the reigning V.League champions, as their opponent. This loss stings more, as Atsumu had his fair share of playtime, and therefore was partially responsible for the defeat.

On the bus ride back to Osaka, Atsumu goes on Twitter half-expecting everyone to be bashing him and claiming that he ruined the Jackals’ chances at winning the tournament. There are a few comments like that, but a lot of people also recognize his potential, saying that a lot of his mistakes were probably due to nerves—which they were—and that they’re looking forward to seeing what he can put on the table for the Jackals’ during the next season.

There are also some comments not so focused on volleyball.

Io @10_shii
is it just me or is msby’s new setter hella good (looking)

Aika🌹 @maeda_aa
@10_shii definitely not just you. maybe we can sign a petition to get him more screentime next season

BEE @manabe567
@10_shii @maeda_aa I’m more of a Comets fan, but if you get them to put Miya on the court next season, I could be converted into a Jackals fan

Atsumu shakes his head, amused by what he’s reading. He’s a bit more appreciative of the people praising his volleyball skills, but isn’t all attention good attention? Inspired by the comments, he opens his camera app. The lighting inside the bus is surprisingly flattering with the setting sun casting a golden glow through the windows, so he snaps a selfie, holding out a peace sign and grinning with his tongue sticking out.

Miya Atsumu @miyatsumu
[picture]
Thanks to everyone who rooted for the Jackals this season! Can’t wait for the next one, I promise you’ll see more of me then ;)

With the surprisingly positive comments on social media and Coach Foster’s earlier words in his mind, Atsumu quickly lifts his chin up and sets his mind to securing that starting position. He has a short camping trip planned with his parents, but that’s the only break he’ll allow himself before going back to working his ass off. 

Sorry, Nakamura-san, but I’m afraid yer days on the court are over.

A few weeks before official practice kicks off again, Atsumu hears news of new players joining the team. Atsumu reads their names in the Jackals’ group chat, and one of them is familiar.

Bokuto, huh? Atsumu knows him, of course—not only does he remember him as one of the best players he played against in high school, but he also saw him sitting on the bench of the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets every time the Jackals played them the past season. Why one of the top aces of high school volleyball didn’t get a single minute of playtime, Atsumu doesn’t know, but he can guess. Bokuto’s excellent skills aren’t the only thing Atsumu remembers about him. Atsumu can also recall his infamous mood swings that cost Fukudorani countless rallies.

Which is why, when Bokuto steps into the Jackals’ locker room for the first time, Atsumu makes it very clear to him that he’d better not go all mopey if he fails to score off one of Atsumu’s sets. Bokuto assures him that he’s gotten over any mental problems he had in the past, though.

Atsumu is skeptical at first, but after a few weeks of playing together, he has no reason to doubt Bokuto’s words. When he completely whiffs a spike or his serve is several meters out of bounds, he gets this empty look in his eyes, but it only lasts a few seconds before he snaps out of it and returns to his ever-energetic self.

As they keep playing together, Atsumu has to admit that setting to Bokuto is fun. The first time he shows Atsumu the sharp cut shot he’s been honing for the past two years, Atsumu is practically drooling as he imagines all the ways he can utilize the attack during games. 

And as they spend more and more time together off the court, Atsumu realizes that Bokuto has become his friend. He is the teammate close to his age that Atsumu wished he’d had a year ago.

Bokuto also moved into the Jackals’ dorms, and Atsumu finds that he no longer wants to hide himself in his room when he eats his meals. Now, more often than not, he stays in the kitchen to enjoy his food, if only to witness the disaster that is Bokuto cooking himself dinner.

Atsumu discovers that Bokuto might be the most excitable person in the world. When Atsumu asks if Bokuto wants to join him on his hunt for new running shoes and maybe do some sightseeing while they’re at it, since Bokuto’s new to the city, Bokuto’s reaction is akin to that of someone who won the lottery.

Apparently Bokuto has made a long list of places in Osaka he’s read online about and wants to visit. Amused, Atsumu promises they can check them all out. Atsumu's already been to some of the places when he’s visited Osaka with his family, but he knows the city still has way more to offer, and he’s excited to finally have someone to explore it with.

The items on Bokuto’s bucket list range from a petting zoo and the Umeda Sky Building to shrines, temples, and botanical gardens. Sometimes they just walk around aimlessly, stopping to look at every statue and landmark they come by. Bokuto gasps at each and every one of them like they just stumbled upon the Statue of Liberty. Atsumu’s amused since he might expect a reaction like that from someone from a small town in the countryside, not someone from the capital. But apparently Bokuto rarely ventured outside Tokyo unless it was for a game or a training camp. That’s one of the many things Atsumu learns about his new teammate during their adventures in Osaka.

Another thing he learns is that he was partially correct about Bokuto’s absence on the court in the V.League being due to his mood swings. Apparently in high school, Bokuto’s setter was always there to lift him out of his despair whenever a misplay left him in a grim mood. When he joined the Hornets, not only was Akaashi not there to help Bokuto get over whatever it was that had him moping around on the court, but Bokuto also missed his old friend off the court. 

Then Akaashi went from Bokuto’s best friend to his boyfriend, and things started looking brighter for Bokuto. He learned how to get over his mistakes in a more mature way, which allowed him to focus more on training. However, when Bokuto finally got back on track, he realized that the Rockets weren’t really a good fit for him anyway, and he decided to try out for other teams.

Transferring to the Jackals definitely seems to have been the right choice for Bokuto. He sat on the Rockets’ bench for two entire seasons, but now he’ll get to alternate with Davino as one of the starting outside hitters. 

The Jackals also got a new libero, Inunaki, who will be alternating with Sawa as the starting libero. Atsumu tries not to let it get to him that Bokuto and Inunaki get a starting position right after joining the team while he had to prove his worth for a year before becoming a starter. He tries to reason to himself that he joined the team fresh out of high school while Bokuto and Inunaki already have experience in the V.League and in the intercollegiate league, respectively. Atsumu's endeavors fail, however, and he sulks for half a day. Then he gets a service ace off Inunaki and gives Bokuto a set so good that the spiker gushes about it for the rest of the day, and his good mood is restored.

When Bokuto learns that Atsumu will turn 20 a few weeks before the start of V.League, he insists Atsumu throw a birthday party. Atsumu doesn’t think it’s a bad idea, and after talking about it with Osamu, they decide to host a party on the Saturday preceding their actual birthday since it falls on a Monday. It’s going to be a small party, but it’s been a while since they had an actual birthday party, so Atsumu’s looking forward to it regardless.

Bokuto also insists that since Atsumu is now allowed to drink, they have to have alcohol at the party. Their teammates seem leery when they overhear Bokuto telling Atsumu what drinks he needs to try.

“It sounds like a recipe for trouble that Miya attends the first party where he’s legally allowed to drink with Bokuto, of all people,” Inunaki says.

“I know,” Futagawa sighs. “I know I can’t tell you what you can and cannot do in your free time, but as the captain, I feel obligated to at least ask you to take it easy.”

“Don’t worry, cap! I’ll teach Tsum-Tsum sensitive drinking habits,” Bokuto says, puffing out his chest.

“Are you sure you don’t mean sensible?” Inunaki snickers.

Bokuto’s eyes light up in recognition of the word. “Oh, yes!”

“That’s not very reassuring,” Futagawa mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. Barnes laughs and gives the captain a consoling pat on the back. 

“If ya don’t trust Bokkun, at least have a lil’ faith in me!” Atsumu says. “I wouldn’t go and get wasted when the season’s right around the corner.”

Their teammates still aren’t convinced though. And they aren’t the only ones.

“You are, under no circumstances, allowed to try to drink each other under the table,” Suna says to the twins on the day of the party. “You’re too competitive to stop before both of you have alcohol poisoning. I’m also not gonna get in between the two of you if you start a drunken fight.”

“Relax, Sunarin!” Atsumu drawls and throws his arm around Suna’s shoulders. ”I’m a professional athlete who takes his job very seriously. I’m not gonna get drunk when I have practice in two days! And don’t even get me started on how many calories alcohol has.”

Atsumu notices Kita listening to their conversation from the kitchen of Aran’s apartment, where Aran kindly lets the twins throw the party. Kita’s look can only be interpreted as, You’d better not cause any trouble tonight.

Atsumu removes his arm from around Suna’s shoulders and straightens up. “Besides, it’d be very rude to get trashed in someone else’s apartment. Especially when you’ve promised to leave the place in tip-top condition, which I definitely will do.” He raises his voice toward the end to make sure Kita hears him.

“And I’ll go through everything after he’s done ‘cause we all know Tsumu can’t clean for shit,” Osamu says, also raising his voice. That damn copycat. “But I don’t gotta prove anything anyway. I already know I’d be able to outdrink Tsumu.”

Atsumu hears the challenge in Osamu’s voice, and prepares to rise to it, but Suna steps in. He levels Osamu with a serious look Atsumu’s never seen on his face before.

“Don’t,” he says gravely, like he’s genuinely terrified of the prospect of a drinking competition between the twins.

Osamu smirks and mumbles an apology to Suna before leaning in for a kiss. Atsumu takes that as his cue to go help Aran and Kita with the snacks.

They finish setting everything up right before the guests start arriving. The first ones are Bokuto and Akaashi, the former of which has all the alcohol with him. He sets the bag on the kitchen counter, announcing with the seriousness of a bouncer that he will personally make sure that no one under age drinks anything from it.

All the rest of the guests are Atsumu and Osamu’s former teammates, the ones they used to spend the most time with. Atsumu hasn’t really been in contact with any of them after their graduation, but it’s nice to catch up with them now.

Atsumu learns, among other things, that Ginjima is no longer together with the girl he fell in love with at first sight. The words, I toldja so, rise to Atsumu’s tongue, but he’s proud to say that he doesn’t say them out loud and goes for a more sympathetic, Sorry to hear that, instead.

Atsumu also finally gets to meet Akaashi, who he has heard so much about from Bokuto. Atsumu likes Akaashi, and he’s grateful for Akaashi’s calming presence every time Bokuto’s volume threatens to rise above what Aran’s neighbors would tolerate. Though admittedly, Atsumu has a little trouble making sense of why someone so solemn and reticent is drawn to someone so bubbly and buoyant like Bokuto, and vice versa. But perhaps falling in love doesn’t need to make sense. It doesn’t make any sense to Atsumu, at least.

Atsumu scans through all the couples in the room—Osamu and Suna, Kita and Aran, Bokuto and Akaashi. Seriously, what is it about falling in love with your best friend? He knows people say the best relationships start off as friendships, but don’t they ever miss the friendships they had first?

Well, at least they all look happy with their best-friends-turned-boyfriends. One would think Atsumu is jealous of them, seeing them all happy and love-struck, but funnily enough, the more he sees them in their romantic bliss, the surer he is that he doesn’t want that. He’s so sure, in fact, that he finds it funny he used to think he wanted it.

It’d be nice to have someone who’s always there for you, sure, but friends can also always be there for each other. Now that Atsumu thinks about it, he realizes that all the things he wanted from romantic relationships aren’t inherently romantic at all.

He wants someone he can talk with about anything. He can have that without also whispering loving words into that someone’s ear. It’d be really cozy to curl up on the couch and watch movies late into the night with someone. That doesn’t mean he has to cuddle with them. For some reason, society just seems insistent on the idea that only romantic relationships can reach that level of closeness.

And if Atsumu doesn’t even want the good sides of romantic relationships, then what about all the drama, hurt feelings, and broken hearts that often come with them? No, thanks.

Besides, Atsumu’s going to have so much freedom. With no spouse and no children, he’ll be free to do whatever he wants. Sure, his friends might affect his decision—he might not want to move abroad with all his friends living in Japan. But it wouldn’t be because he’s expected to stay in Japan for his friends. It’d be because he wants to stay close to his friends. If he ever finds himself wanting to relocate despite all his friends being here, he’s free to do so. 

That said, while Atsumu doesn’t want a romantic relationship and knows he can live a happy life without one, he can’t help but wonder if his life would be easier if he wanted the same things everyone else does. 

It feels like other people are stage actors following a script they know like the back of their hands because no matter where you look, a version of that script is being played out—fall in love, get married, start a family, be happy. Then there’s Atsumu, thrust onto that stage without a script, left to improvise and hope that his fellow actors have a moment to spare between their scenes so that he doesn’t have to stumble through the acts of his life all alone.

Wouldn’t it be easier if Atsumu also had a script to follow—if he could find happiness in the so-called normal way?

Then he wouldn’t have to worry about things like being left all alone in the end, when all his friends are too busy living their married lives to remember Atsumu exists. It may be a somewhat irrational fear, but it’s one he’ll likely never completely shake off.

Atsumu pulls himself away from his gloomy thoughts to enjoy the rest of the party. Like he promised, he doesn’t get drunk, drinking only one can of peach chuhai all evening. Also like he promised, he and Osamu help Aran and Kita clean everything up, though Kita is so efficient that there’s hardly anything for them to help with.

Atsumu’s pumped for the first game of the season. How could he not be? This is the first time he’ll get to be on the court for the entire match, after all. Assuming he doesn’t completely screw up and force Coach Foster to put Nakamura back on court.

Fortunately, he doesn’t mess everything up, though his nerves get to him a little, so he’s not at his best either. There’s nothing wrong with his sets or serves, but his playstyle isn’t as daring as it usually is. However, Atsumu has an experienced team around him, and his teammates are able to keep scoring points even if Atsumu’s tosses are a little boring.

Their first game ends in victory. Bokuto gets to play in the second match, and they win that too. People are really starting to recognize Atsumu’s skills as a setter, and Atsumu figures that it’s time to bring back an old tradition for the third game—his pre-serve routine.

It has felt weird serving without silencing the crowd first, but he wasn’t going to risk it when he was just a rookie. What if no one had gone silent? Atsumu would’ve looked like an absolute fool. But now, he trusts that he has enough fans among the spectators not to embarrass himself.

It’s mostly a success. Not everyone shuts up, but at least the stadium significantly quiets down. By the fifth game of the season, all Jackals fans know the drill.

His pre-serve routine seems to only add to his popularity among the fans of the V.League. Some people say that his gesture is ridiculous and over-the-top, but there’s enough positive feedback to prevent Atsumu from spiraling into a bout of self-pity.

Han @monhana94
[A GIF of Atsumu silencing the crowd before his serve.]
there are other ways to shut me up u know…

nana @minaminami_
[A picture of Atsumu holding his fist up before his serve.]
I can already see him shutting everyone up at the olympics

Motoki @m07081
@minaminami_ I doubt Miya will get to the olympics with how good Kageyama’s setting is looking

nana @minaminami_
@m07081 Hmm I think you might be right actually

Atsumu scrunches his nose and sinks deeper into his bed. Damn that Kageyama. How is it fair that Atsumu’s been fighting to prove himself for the past year, and Kageyama marches onto the court straight out of high school and is instantly praised as possibly the best setter in the league? It was annoying enough to play and lose against him. Why does Kageyama have to be popular with the fans as well? If only they knew what a prick the other setter was. Then they’d all be rooting for Atsumu, who is a much more pleasant person.

Well, even with Kageyama stealing some of his spotlight, Atsumu quickly becomes one of the most popular players in the V.League, and only a few weeks into the season, a sportswear company reaches out to him, asking if he’s interested in doing a quick photoshoot to promote their winter collection on their website.

It’s a small brand that Atsumu has never heard of before, and the amount of money they’re offering isn’t great, but since Atsumu’s not swimming in money, his interest is definitely piqued. Before saying yes, he texts Aran to ask if he thinks it’s a good idea. He says it sounds like a great opportunity, but he recommends that Atsumu double-checks with the Jackals’ PR agent first. After doing just that and getting the green light, Atsumu schedules a time for the photoshoot.

He finds modeling for the ad surprisingly fun. He’s always liked posing for photos, but he assumed being surrounded by people telling him what to do and how to pose would take the fun out of it.

As promised, the photoshoot is quick. They only have three outfits they want photos of, and the shots are quite simple—just Atsumu doing mundane things like walking down the stairs or tying his shoes, plus a few basic poses. Atsumu thinks there are more interesting ways to shoot promotional photos, but he’s there to get paid, not to offer opinions. At least he looks good in the photos.

On the way home, Atsumu passes through a shopping center. The outfits he modeled might’ve been athletic wear, but they were still pretty stylish, and they inspired him to use the money he got from the photoshoot to buy himself some nice clothes. He’s been sporting his new hairstyle for a year now, so perhaps it’s time to upgrade his wardrobe too. Besides, now that he can’t borrow Osamu’s clothes, he finds himself circling through the same clothes a little too often.

So far the only criterion Atsumu’s had for his clothes is that they must be comfortable. Mostly he wears sweatpants and hoodies, or jeans and plain t-shirts when the occasion calls for something a bit less casual. As he walks from store to store, he’s still only on the lookout for comfortable clothes, but he figures that being comfortable doesn’t automatically mean not putting any effort into his outfits.

In the end, Atsumu leaves the shopping center with a dark green chore coat, a cream linen shirt with short sleeves, and a new pair of light blue jeans—everything a little loosely fitted, because he can’t comprehend how anyone manages to survive a day in tight clothes.

The day after the sportswear company uploads the photos, Atsumu’s greeted at practice by an enthusiastic Bokuto.

“Tsum-Tsum, I saw your photos! You look great!”

“Thanks, Bokkun,” Atsumu beams.

Then Bokuto’s demeanor becomes a little defeated. “I want to be in an ad too.”

“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Atsumu assures. “Ya shouldn’t compare yerself to me, anyway. Not everyone has my looks and charm, after all.”

“You are very charming! But others have ads too. I saw one with Kageyama a few days ago.”

Atsumu’s eyebrow twitches. “Kageyama?”

“Yes!”

Bokuto shows Atsumu the ad, which appears to be for an activity bracelet. Atsumu’s mood soured when Bokuto brought Kageyama up, but when he sees the photos, he’s in high spirits again. Atsumu’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone look more awkward in a photo, and that includes all candid shots he’s seen.

Atsumu’s also never seen Kageyama smile off the volleyball court, and the photos serve as further proof for his theory that it’s something Kageyama physically can’t do—there’s a shot that’s probably supposed to be Kageyama enjoying a nice run, but his attempt at a happy smile makes it look like he’s running from an angry mob instead.

Well, Atsumu finally found something that he outshines Kageyama in.

From: suna
> hey
> we have a practice game in osaka next saturday
> wanna hang out afterwards?

Atsumu has to do a double-take when he reads the notification. Atsumu’s suggested meeting up countless times but Suna’s never had the time, and now he’s asking if Atsumu wants to hang out?

To: suna
> well well well. look what the cat dragged in

From: suna
> so what’s ur answer?

To: suna
> well how could i refuse?

On Saturday, Atsumu meets Suna at the subway station closest to the Jackals’ dorm. After locating him in the crowd and walking up to him, Atsumu grabs Suna’s shoulders and shakes him a little.

“Had to make sure I ain’t hallucinating, but it seems a miracle has happened and ya are actually here.”

“Haha, really funny,” Suna says and stares at Atsumu impassively until he lets go of him.

Atsumu starts leading the way to a supermarket so that they can buy some food for the evening.

“So, didja finally start missing me or what?”

“You’re the one who’s been whining about not seeing me often enough.”

“For good reason! I haven’t seen ya since our birthday, and that was over two months ago,” Atsumu huffs.

“Hmm. I watched your game against VC Hiroshima yesterday, by the way. It was a good game.”

“Wasn’t it?” Atsumu grins. “Arent’cha gonna congratulate me on the win?”

“Congrats.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You secured your spot in the play-offs with that win, right?”

“Yep! Just two more games and the regular season’s over.”

Once at the supermarket, they agree that they’re too lazy to cook tonight, and get ready-to-eat meals instead, though not before promising each other not to utter a word about it to Osamu, who thinks the prepared meals sold in supermarkets are a hate crime against food. Suna also buys a bag of chuupets, which he opens immediately after they exit the store.

“It’s a three-minute walk to my place. Ya can’t survive that long without sugar?”

Suna levels Atsumu with a flat look. “Look who’s all high and mighty after following a pro meal plan for a few months.”

“It’s been over a year!”

“Whatever. I’m hungry. Let me have my snack,” Suna says and takes a bite out of what looks to be an apple-flavored jelly stick.

“How’s yer season been?” After walking in silence for a moment. “Ya got into the top 16 at the intercollegiate championship, right?”

“Yeah. We had a pretty good run until we got our asses kicked by Ashitama.”

Suna looks at Atsumu as if to scope out his reaction. When he doesn’t see one, he takes another bite and continues.

“I was kinda shocked that Ashitama didn’t make it into the top four, to be honest. I don’t know if you’ve kept up with the intercollegiate scene at all, but Sakusa’s gotten ridiculously good. ”

“Nah, I don’t follow the intercollegiate league. I’m only really interested in hearing how yer games went.”

“Hmm.”

They get to the dorms and take the elevator to the third floor where the Jackals’ rooms are. After kicking off their shoes and shrugging off their jackets, Atsumu puts on some music and they settle on Atsumu’s bed to eat their food. 

”I heard from Samu that you and Sakusa don’t talk anymore. Wanna tell me what the hell happened between the two of you?” Suna tries to sound nonchalant, but Atsumu can tell he’s been dying to ask about that ever since he mentioned Sakusa’s name earlier.

“I’m surprised ya haven’t asked Samu.”

“I did ask him,” Suna says like it’s obvious he did. “But he said I should ask you if I wanna know.”

“So he does have a little loyalty in him,” Atsumu huffs.

“Well, I’m asking you now. What happened?” Suna prompts.

“Just drifted apart, y’know?” Atsumu says, shrugging.

“That simple, huh?”

Atsumu shoots a glare at Suna. “Simple or not, it’s none of yer business.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just asking.”

A few moments pass in silence as they eat, but Atsumu can sense Suna hasn’t given up yet.

“It’s just that you seemed pretty close, so I highly doubt you simply drifted apart,” Suna eventually says.

Atsumu hums, trying to use Suna’s own tactic against him. It doesn’t work.

“Plus, there was the last day of the training camp when things felt really tense between you. Something must've happened.”

Atsumu sighs, and thinks of an answer that will satisfy Suna. His heart rate picks up as he realizes that this would be a good segue into coming out to him. Atsumu could do it, but for some reason, it’s just so damn difficult to get those words out. It’s not that he thinks Suna would have a problem with it—Suna might just be the most unbothered person in the world. But Suna wouldn’t probably get it without Atsumu spelling it out to him, and Atsumu doesn’t have the energy to explain himself right now.

“I guess something did happen,” Atsumu admits. “Nothing major, though. I kinda overreacted, actually,” he adds as he unlocks the front door.

“No way. You overreacted? Impossible,” Suna says flatly.

Atsumu squints at Suna. “Careful with what ya say or I’m gonna kick ya out.”

Suna takes out his phone and taps the screen a few times. “Alright. I can catch the next train to Yokohama if I leave now.”

Suna stands up, but Atsumu admits defeat, telling Suna to sit back down and that he’ll let it go this time.

“Wouldn’t ya have gone to Kobe, not Yokohama, anyway?” Atsumu asks.

“Nah. Samu’s gonna be busy with schoolwork, I think. I’m just gonna head home tonight.”

“Oh, okay.”

Atsumu then asks about Suna’s own studies, and the conversation shifts into more mundane matters. By the time they’ve finished their food and taken out the trash, Atsumu’s forgotten all about their previous topic. But when they get back to Atsumu’s room, of course Suna has to bring it up again.

“Do you ever miss Sakusa?”

Atsumu looks at Suna, a little surprised at the question, before shaking his head.

“Not really. It’s been almost two years, and I have other friends now.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Not missing someone you are— someone you were so close with? Don’t you regret parting ways?”

There’s something weird about Suna’s tone.

“What’s with this sudden interrogation?”

“Just asking questions. Don’t answer if you don’t wanna,” Suna shrugs.

Atsumu studies Suna’s face for a few more seconds, but when it doesn’t give anything away, he answers. “Well, I do still regret handling the situation the way I did. I think I coulda done more, and if I had, we'd still be friends. But it is what it is, y’know? I wasn’t willing to put in the effort, so… I dunno. Maybe at the end of the day, our friendship didn’t mean quite as much to me as I thought it did.”

“Hmm.”

Suna doesn’t ask more questions, fiddling with his phone and staring out of the window instead.

“Wanna play something?” Atsumu suggests.

“Sure.”

Atsumu doesn’t have a TV so that they could play a co-op game on his Wii U, so he downloads a random Street Fighter rip-off on his laptop for ¥300. Atsumu chooses a boxing robot as his character, while Suna goes for a koala bear that does karate.

As expected, the game’s terrible, and they have a better time laughing at the glitches than they do playing it.

“Pfft. This is the furthest thing from karate I’ve seen,” Suna complains after his koala bear suplexes Atsumu’s robot.

“Oh, that reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to ask ya—do ya still practice karate?”

“Only when I visit home and I can train with my dad. But I’ve kinda lost my touch. My dad usually ends up laughing at me ‘cause I fail at something really basic.”

Atsumu lets out a cackle. “Serves ya right.”

Atsumu’s gotten pretty active on social media, but he doesn’t hold a candle to how many times a day Suna posts something. They only play for an hour, but Suna still manages to post five different clips on his social media. Unfortunately for Atsumu, one of them is of him shaking his laptop and yelling at it in a fit of rage after Suna beats him five rounds in a row.

“It’s the fucking glitches! I swear the game’s against me,” Atsumu pleads to the camera like his life depends on it.

“You’re the one who picked it,” Suna says, amused, and stops the recording right before Atsumu gives him the finger.

Luckily for the peace and quiet of Atsumu’s neighbors, Atsumu wins the next round. They play a little longer, but when the game crashes for the third time, they call it a day. It’s almost eight o’clock anyway, and Suna still needs to take a train back to Yokohama.

“Isn’t your final game of the regular season against VC Kanagawa? Wanna stop by at my place since you'll be in the city?” Suna asks as he ties his shoes. “I have a PS3 so we could play, you know, an actual game.”

“Look at who can’t get enough of my company now that he remembered I exist,” Atsumu smirks. “But aren’t ya gonna visit Samu that weekend like every other time I’ve been to Yokohama this season?”

“I was gonna, but Samu has a practical exam or something the following week that he needs time to prepare for.”

“Those have never stopped ya from visiting each other before, but whatever. I’ll see ya in a few weeks then!”

“‘Kay. See you,” Suna says, and then he’s out the door.

The Jackals win their match in Yokohama, and Atsumu destroys Suna at the games they play. Suna says that it’s beginner’s luck, but Atsumu takes it as a good omen.

Before their first game in the play-offs, Futagawa announces that he will retire after this season, and Meian will take his place as the team captain going forward. Futagawa has been Atsumu’s captain for only two seasons, and Atsumu’s played by his side for only one of them, but he still wants Futagawa to be able to end his career on a high. 

Unfortunately, Atsumu’s win streak continues only so far into the play-offs, and the Jackals place fourth.

What’s even worse is that it’s the Adlers who eliminate them, and it’s the Adlers who eventually take the championship. Atsumu would take consolation from the fact that at least they got knocked out of the tournament by the best team in the league if he didn’t also have to watch Kageyama and Ushijima celebrating their victory, grinning from ear to ear with that unsettling way of theirs. Atsumu doesn’t bother watching the awards ceremony and switches his laptop off.

Lying on his bed, Atsumu swears that the Jackals will wipe those grins off their faces one day.

Chapter Text

Atsumu’s third year as a professional volleyball player goes on much like the previous one. 

He doesn’t get into the Olympic team, Kageyama taking that other setter spot on the Olympic roster instead. Atsumu still has fun watching the games at home and rooting for Japan. Though admittedly, having to watch Kageyama score five service aces in a row while thinking that technically, it could be him on that court, makes things a little less fun. The least Kageyama could do is win gold for Japan, but the national team only gets sixth place.

Atsumu and Bokuto keep crossing off items from Bokuto’s Osaka bucket list, and as soon as they’re done with it, Bokuto comes up with new places he wants to go to. Atsumu still meets up with Aran regularly, and sometimes Aran joins him and Bokuto on their adventures in the city. And it seems that Suna’s willingness to spend time with Atsumu wasn’t a one time thing, and the two of them hang out every now and then too.

Meian replaces Futagawa as the Jackals’ captain, and the vacant middle blocker position created by their old captain’s retirement is filled by an English player, Adriah Thomas. Davino, who Bokuto shared the position of one of the outside hitters with, leaves back to his homeland to play in an Italian league, so Atsumu now gets the pleasure of setting to Bokuto in every match.

Atsumu is asked to be another ad, which this time is for a new protein bar. In addition to his paycheck, Atsumu gets a box of protein bars for free. When Osamu is visiting him one day, Atsumu offers him one of the chocolate bars.

“That’s disgusting,” Osamu grimaces after tasting it and shoves the rest of the chocolate bar to Atsumu.

He takes a bite of it. “I dunno, the taste of protein bars kinda grows on ya.”

“Just admit that yer a greedy bastard who doesn’t mind lying to his fans for profit.”

“It ain’t my fault if some idiots believe everything they see on ads,” Atsumu huffs. “And these aren’t actually that bad. Yer just a food snob.”

Atsumu takes another bite to prove his point.

“No, yer just a food peasant.”

Atsumu finishes the protein bar, crumples up the wrapping, and throws it at Osamu, who’s sitting next to him on Atsumu's bed. Osamu catches the wrapping and throws it toward Atsumu’s trashcan, but it lands so far away that there’s no way Osamu even aimed at the bin. He looks back at Atsumu with an expression that makes it clear he’s not picking it up. Atsumu shrugs—he can live with a piece of trash on his floor until Osamu leaves. Or perhaps he’ll leave it there indefinitely just to taunt Osamu every time he visits his dorm room.

“Wanna have lunch together next Sunday?” Osamu asks.

“Oh, ya coming to Osaka again? Yeah, sure. I was actually thinking about going to the Warriors vs. Hornets match that day. I was gonna ask Bokkun if he wants to join, but do ya wanna come with me?”

“I’m not gonna have time for that. There’s something else I need to do.”

“The hell are ya gonna do in Osaka if not spend time with me?”

“Trust me, there are at least a hundred things I’d rather do than spend time with ya.”

“Yeah? Then what’re ya gonna do here on Sunday?"

“Something that’s none of yer business.”

“Ya know I can just follow ya after the lunch and see what yer up to.”

“And I can simply not show up in the first place.”

Atsumu kicks Osamu, but Osamu catches his leg and yanks it so that Atsumu loses balance and falls on his back on the bed, his head a centimeter away from the wall.

“Ya almost gave me a concussion!” Atsumu berates as he gets back up.

“Yer already so braindead that a little more brain damage would have no effect.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’ll let that slide if ya tell me what yer gonna do in Osaka without me.”

“I can’t tell ya, ‘cause yer gonna get excited about it, but it’s all still really tentative, so nothing might come out of it. And then yer gonna be all sulky about it.”

“What if I promise I’m not gonna get upset?”

“I’m still not gonna tell ya ‘cause yer promises don’t mean shit.”

Atsumu brings his hand to his chest, acting offended. “When have I ever broken a promise?”

“We’ll be here all day if I list every time you haven’t kept yer word,” Osamu scoffs.

Atsumu lets it go, but after Osamu leaves, Atsumu calls him. Osamu still refuses to tell what he’s up to, so an hour later, Atsumu calls again. This time Osamu hangs up before Atsumu finishes asking what he’s planning.

When Atsumu calls Osamu the next day, he doesn’t even pick up. After Osamu declines Asumu’s call for the third time, Atsumu texts their parents and tells them Osamu hasn’t picked up his calls all day. He only does this because he’s a caring brother and wants to make sure Osamu’s alright, of course. Their parents promise to reach out to Osamu, and the next time Atsumu calls him, he picks up.

“Jeez, ya told on me to Ma and Pa like we’re five again? Fine. I’m coming to Osaka to check out some potential restaurant locations.”

Atsumu perks up, inhaling sharply. “What? Yer gonna open yer restaurant here? When? Where?”

Osamu sighs. “Like I said yesterday, nothing’s confirmed. I’m only starting to consider my options. But yes, if I can find a good place in Osaka, it would be my first choice for the location.”

“Well I’m obviously gonna come look at the places with ya.”

“Nuh-uh. Yer too impatient. I don’t need ya constantly asking me if we can move on.”

“I won’t do that. I’ll go with ya.”

“No, ya won’t.”

Atsumu goes with Osamu. They spend the day taking various forms of public transportation around the city. Atsumu is already bored after the third location, but his determination not to give Osamu an opportunity to say, I toldja so, is greater than his desire to go through the places as quickly as possible, so he makes sure not to voice any of his complaints.

They arrive at the last location when the sun is about to set. 

“This is the kinda trendy area Rin would like,” Atsumu notes as Osamu navigates them to the spot he wants to check out. There are quite a few cafés and boutique shops scattered around. It’s a quieter neighborhood too, with smaller, older-style buildings.

“Ya call him Rin nowadays?” Osamu says offhandedly while looking at the map on his phone.

“Well, I’ve gotten a chance to become pretty good friends with him now that yer not hogging him to yerself all the time.”

Atsumu says it jokingly, but Osamu’s face falls ever so slightly at the comment. “Right.”

Atsumu squints at him. Osamu has never shown any remorse when Atsumu has complained about Suna never having time for him, so Osamu’s reaction must stem from something else.

“Everything good?” Atsumu asks.

“As good as it can be, considering I’m in yer company,” Osamu huffs, stopping in his tracks. “This is the spot, by the way.”

“Oh. Looks nice!”

By the end of the day, Osamu has made no decisions, but a lot of the locations they visited seem promising.

“I recommend ya choose one of ‘em,” Atsumu says while they wait for Osamu’s train to arrive. “I never promised not to act like a baby if ya disappoint me and open yer restaurant somewhere else.”

“Ya always act like a baby, though.”

Atsumu pulls a face at his twin.

“Case in point,” Osamu sighs. “Anyway, that’s my train. See ya later, scrub.”

A month later, Osamu shares the news with Atsumu that he’s signed a lease on the last spot they visited. Atsumu whoops when he reads the text in the Jackals’ locker room. Bokuto has no idea what Atsumu’s happy about, but he joins Atsumu in his celebration regardless.

Atsumu’s a little shocked by how quickly time goes by now that he’s fallen into a rhythm in his grown accustomed to his life as a professional athlete. He always has something to look forward to—his birthday in October, followed by the beginning of the V.League season. In December, there’s the Emperor’s Cup tournament right before Christmas and New Year’s. And then it’s only a few months until the play-offs.

The Jackals finish the season in fourth place again, being defeated in the semi-finals by the Adlers, and losing the third place match to the Warriors. Atsumu mourns the first loss more than the second, because at the end of the day, bronze medals are just sad consolation prizes. He would rather have a shot at winning gold than win bronze.

Well, a loss is still a loss, and while Atsumu sulks about it, Bokuto tries to cheer him up by reminding him of his rapid climb in the serve rankings. Atsumu finished the season as the second-ranked server, only bested by who else but Kageyama. Atsumu has no idea why Bokuto thinks that would raise Atsumu’s spirits because everyone knows that the second place is just the first loser. However, being consoled by Bokuto—who’s known for going into a funk after a failure—serves as a wake-up call for Atsumu, so he perks up and sets his eyes on the final tournament of the season which, as always, is Kurowashiki. 

The Jackals get placed in a group with VC Hiroshima, Sendai Frogs from V.League Division 2, and Ichibayashi High School. They play them in that order, so their opponents get increasingly easier.

Atsumu never got a chance to play in Kurowashiki as a high school student. He thinks he would’ve found it exciting back then, but now, as his serve bounces off the high school libero's arms and lands out-of-bounds for the sixth time in a row, Atsumu can’t help but wonder if it would’ve been traumatizing instead.

When they’re getting ready to leave the court after the match, Atsumu catches Coach Foster and Masuyama—the Jackals’ agent who approached Atsumu after his last Spring High—chatting to someone. That someone being Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

Atsumu knew Sakusa would be at the tournament, of course, since he heard from Suna that Ashitama won the Intercollegiate Championship last year. A quick glance at the score board lets Atsumu know that Ashitama won their final game in the group stage and managed to get a spot in the play-offs despite having two V.League Division 1 teams in their group, which is a pretty impressive feat.

Bokuto notices the encounter between their coach and Sakusa. “Wait, isn’t that Sakusa Kiyoomi? Do you think he’ll join our team soon?”

Atsumu shrugs and zips up his jacket. “Who knows? But it sure looks like Coach is interested in him.”

Whether Sakusa joins the Jackals or not, Atsumu knows he’ll be seeing Sakusa in the V.League soon. When Sakusa told Atsumu about his plan to go to university, he made it clear that he intends to join the V.League as soon as he graduates, and Atsumu has no doubt that the teams will be more than willing to accept Sakusa into their ranks.

So, Atsumu knows he can’t avoid Sakusa forever, but he’s still glad he’s only seen him in passing during the tournament so far. He has a feeling that talking with Sakusa will be awkward, and he’d rather postpone that encounter.

Yet, Atsumu’s also disappointed when the play-off brackets are released and he realizes it’s unlikely that the Jackals will play against Ashitama, as Ashitama’s first match is against the Adlers. And sure enough, the Adlers take the win in straight sets, eliminating the university team. To Ashitama’s credit, they put up a good fight, even if saying it’s a close match is a stretch. 

The Jackals, on the other hand, win their first round. After the game, some of Atsumu and Bokuto’s teammates get caught answering the media’s questions. As they’re waiting for them, Bokuto nudges Atsumu and points at someone.

“Look, it’s Sakusa! Let’s go talk to him.”

Atsumu winces. “Why?”

“We played against each other a lot in high school. And didn’t you go to the Youth Camp at the same time as him? Let’s go catch up!”

It’s exactly what Atsumu was happy to have avoided, but he supposes that if he’s bound to run into Sakusa at some point, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Sakusa has changed in much the same ways as Atsumu has over the past few years—he has a cleaner haircut, he’s gotten taller, and he’s built more muscle. Something that hasn’t changed is his habit of wearing a face mask. 

He’s typing something on his phone when Bokuto greets him.

“Hey hey hey, Sakusa! Long time no see!”

Sakusa winces at Bokuto’s volume and dodges his attempt at patting his back. It’s a good call—as someone who Bokuto has clapped on the back numerous times, Atsumu knows that Bokuto’s friendly gesture has enough power to knock the air out of your lungs.

“We caught a glimpse of your game today. You played really well! The Adlers have beaten us many times too, so don’t let the loss weigh you down.”

Sakusa looks like he doesn’t know what to say, or maybe it’s that he doesn’t have time to say anything before Bokuto barrels on.

“I look forward to facing you in the V.League next year! Or maybe we’ll even be teammates—we saw our coach talking to you earlier. You will join the V.League, won’t you?”

Sakusa nods, looking unsure if Bokuto even expects an answer from him, or if he’s happy to rattle on by himself.

“Too bad we didn’t get to play against each other in this tournament,” Bokuto continues. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten it when you guys beat us in my last year of high school. I haven’t gotten revenge for that yet.”

Based on Sakusa’s expression, it’s possible he has forgotten all about the match Bokuto is referring to. He seems to have trouble keeping up with Bokuto’s blabbering, shooting not-so-subtle glances around him to see if any of his teammates are coming to save him. And Atsumu gets it—he’s gotten better at speaking Bokuto, but he still sometimes gets overwhelmed by the sheer number of words Bokuto is capable of producing.

“Now, now, Bokkun,” Atsumu butts in, slinging an arm around his teammate’s shoulders. “Do ya really think it woulda been a fair rematch anyway, when ya play for a V.League Division 1 team and Om— Sakusa-kun here is in a college team?”

Sakusa slowly shifts his eyes to look at Atsumu, not like he’s only just seen him, but like he’s only just chosen to acknowledge his presence. “Are you saying that you don’t take my team seriously, Miya?”

“Well, um.” Atsumu hates that he can’t tell if Sakusa's teasing him or if he’s actually offended. “I would take ya more seriously if everyone in yer team was good as ya, but it’s pretty obvious that most of yer teammates are far below the level of us pro teams. I’ve heard some high praise of ya from Suna, so I couldn’t help but wonder why I haven’t seen ya guys at Kurowashiki before. But having seen yer team play, it looks like not everyone pulls their weight.”

One of Sakusa’s teammates must have overheard Atsumu’s comment, based on the side-eye he gives Atsumu.

Sakusa blinks at Atsumu a few times before huffing a dry laugh. “Maybe so. It must be different for someone like you who’s getting carried by his team.”

Atsumu stares at Sakusa, feigning outrage. “Excuse me? I’mma give ya the benefit of the doubt and assume you’ve been too busy with yer studies to watch the V.League. Ya clearly haven’t seen a single one of our games if ya say unfounded things like that.”

“Well, I have been pretty busy with school,” Sakusa replies after a beat.

Atsumu is suddenly reminded of the second-year Sakusa who could never answer any of Atsumu’s questions without waiting a few seconds first.

“What do ya study, anyway?” Atsumu asks.

Again, there’s a short pause before Sakusa answers, “Health technology engineering.”

“Woah! That sounds really cool” Bokuto says in awe.

Sakusa shrugs. “It’s alright.”

Atsumu doesn’t know what Sakusa’s team was waiting for, but whatever it was, the wait seems to be over, as his teammates start shuffling toward the exit.

“Well, I have to go,” Sakusa says and hurries after his teammates without saying goodbye.

“It was nice to see you,” Bokuto yells after Sakusa cheerily, not offended by his hasty exit.

Soon Atsumu and Bokuto’s teammates finish their interviews too, and they leave for their hotel.

Fortunately, the conversation with Sakusa wasn’t as awkward as Atsumu had feared, though maybe he was worried for no reason. It has been over three years since they stopped talking, after all—long enough that they can let bygones be bygones. But also, they’re four years older, and Atsumu’s ability not to freak out in uncomfortable situations has probably improved in that time, no matter how many times Osamu claims that Atsumu’s brain stopped developing when they were toddlers.

In the summer, Atsumu has to break his back helping Osamu move for the second time. However, since this time Osamu is moving closer to Atsumu instead of farther away from him, Atsumu’s much more eager to help this time. Though that doesn’t stop him from spending the entire day whining, of course.

Their parents are also there to help, and they have no grouses about it. They use the opportunity to complain about Atsumu not calling and visiting them as often as he used to, though. Atsumu tells them it’s because he’s gotten more friends who take up his time. That is the main reason why Atsumu doesn’t have as much time for his parents anymore, but what Atsumu leaves unsaid is that it has started to really grate on his nerves how often his parents ask him if he’s dating anyone.

They try to be subtle about it, sometimes asking if there have been any recent developments in Atsumu’s life that he wants to tell them about, or if he’s made any new acquaintances he’d like to introduce to them. But in reality, it couldn’t be more obvious what they’re actually asking, and Atsumu’s getting tired of saying he’s not looking for anyone at the moment, only to be ignored.

Hence, Atsumu doesn’t make the trip to Akashi every chance he gets, and he doesn’t ring his parents up every week like he used to.

Osamu has been busy all year, making arrangements for opening his restaurant which he has decided to call Onigiri Miya. Atsumu thinks it’s the most unimaginative name Osamu could’ve come up with, and that he’s probably trying to ride on Atsumu’s coattails, using their family name like that. According to Osamu, though, the Miya in Onigiri Miya stands for everyone in their family except Atsumu.

Two months before the grand opening of his restaurant, Osamu invites Atsumu to his new apartment to try the onigiri he plans to serve.

Osamu tells Atsumu about the filling options he has decided on while he finishes preparing the one he thinks will be Atsumu’s favorite.

“Here. Fatty tuna and spring onions,” he says once he’s done, setting a plate in front of Atsumu.

Atsumu picks up the rice ball and studies it from all angles. Then he brings it to his nose, closing his eyes and taking a long breath to smell it.

When he opens his eyes, Osamu is staring at him impatiently. “At this rate, it’s gonna go bad before ya put it in yer mouth.”

“I’m being thorough!”

Atsumu inspects the rice ball for a few more seconds just to piss Osamu off. “I expect this to be better than the onigiri that ya used to make at home since yer a professional now.”

“It is,” Osamu assures.

“And I’m not gonna spare my words just ‘cause we’re family.”

“I’d never have expected otherwise.”

Atsumu nods gravely, then takes a big bite of the onigiri, making sure he gets some of the filling. He closes his eyes as he chews. After swallowing, he looks at Osamu with wide eyes.

“Holy shit.”

“Toldja it’s way better than the stuff I’ve made before,” Osamu smirks.

“That’s the best tuna filling I’ve ever had.”

Atsumu takes another bite. ”And the rice!” he gushes, mouth full.

“I know, right? The people at Kita-san’s farm know what they're doing.”

“‘Course they do. I bet there’s some kinda superpower that runs in that family.”

Atsumu finishes his onigiri and demands another one. Osamu mumbles that Atsumu has no manners, but does as asked anyway. This time he makes one for himself too, and sits down opposite Atsumu.

“Ya have to teach me yer secret techniques,” Atsumu says, munching on the onigiri with relish.

“Nah. You’d butch all my recipes.”

“Ya say that, but I know yer gonna teach me how to do it at some point anyway, so that ya can exploit me for free labor.”

“There are other chores I can make ya do around the restaurant for free, like cleaning the toilets.”

“Don’tcha care about family recipes? I need to know the recipe so I can pass it down to future generations.”

“Who the hell wouldja pass it down to? Ya only pretend to tolerate children at games and fan events. Ya wouldn’t last a day with yer own kid before having a mental breakdown.”

Atsumu scowls at Osamu even though he’s right. “Well, I’m better suited to be the cool uncle anyway. I think that’s what I was always meant to be. I mean, unless ya and Rin don’t want kids, of course.”

Atsumu stuffs the rest of his onigiri in his mouth even though there’s more than a bite left.

“Just know that Ma and Pa definitely assume they’ll have grandkids one day, so in a few years they’ll start pestering ya and Rin about it,” he says while chewing.

Osamu doesn’t reply, and when Atsumu looks at him, he notices that Osamu isn’t even eating his onigiri anymore.

“Samu?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there something going on between you and Rin?”

Osamu seems taken aback by the question, but recovers quickly. “Yeah, we’ve been going out for a few years now. I’m surprised ya haven’t noticed.”

Atsumu shoots a glare at Osamu. He’s clearly avoiding the topic, but it just makes Atsumu more insistent on finding out what’s going on.

“Well, are ya gonna keep going out or?”

It’s a taunt to get Osamu to lower his defenses. Atsumu expects Osamu to scowl at him and bite back, saying that of course they will. He does look irritated at first, but the expression slowly melts away, tiredness taking over Osamu’s face instead.

“I dunno.”

Atsumu’s brows shoot up, then knit together. That’s not what he expected. “Whaddya mean ya don’t know?”

“Whaddya mean what do I mean? I mean that I don’t fucking know if we’ll keep going out or not,” Osamu blurts out. He’s getting worked up, which is unusual when the cause of his frustration isn’t Atsumu.

“So yer gonna break up with him?”

Osamu scowls at Atsumu. “I never said I wanna break up with him.”

“Does Rin wanna break up with ya?” Atsumu asks, his frown deepening.

“I dunno.”

“‘Cause if he did something—”

“He didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything. No one’s doing anything,” Osamu says bitterly.

“Okay, yer gonna hafta tell me what the hell ya mean.”

“I don’t hafta tell ya shit.”

“Nuh-uh. Something’s been troubling ya for months. I’m not gonna let ya stew in yer misery any longer, so spit it out.”

Osamu looks at Atsumu defiantly for a few seconds, but Atsumu doesn’t back down, so Osamu gives up. He sighs as if bracing himself.

“What I mean is that it feels like neither of us is putting any effort into our relationship anymore. We used to see each other almost every week. We’d make sure we get all our assignments so that we could spend the weekend together.

“Then in January, there was one weekend when I was supposed to visit Rin, but there was a last-minute problem with a group project, so I had to stay at home to work on it. I was really bummed about it, especially ‘cause Rin had a practice match the following weekend so I knew we wouldn’t be able to see each other in two weeks. But during those two weeks, I barely missed Rin at all.”

Atsumu nods to show he’s still listening. “Uh-huh.” 

“A few weeks later, Rin had to cancel his trip to Kobe ‘cause there were some late-minute changes to his team’s training schedule. This time I wasn’t upset about it. Hell, I was relieved that I could have the weekend all to myself.”

Osamu fixes his eyes on the uneaten onigiri on his plate, biting the inside of his cheek.

“And then?” Atsumu prods.

Osamu looks like he’s about to be difficult and refuse to talk again but keeps going.

“And then I started making excuses not to see him. I said that I was busy with school even though I’d been busier and still found the time to travel to Yokohama. I felt really shit about it, but the thing is, I don’t think Rin minded. He never complained about it, at least, and I’m pretty sure he started making excuses too. He said he was really tired from practice, which he says every week, but he never canceled our plans because of it.”

“But ya still see each other?”

“Yeah, like once a month. But whenever we meet up, things feel… weird. Tense. We’re more irritable. It’s like we both know something’s wrong. Every time he leaves for Yokohama or I come home after visiting him, I’m glad it’s gonna be a few weeks ‘til I see him again. How fucked up is that?”

“Well—”

Osamu swats at Atsumu over the table. “Don’t answer that! It was a rhetorical question. I don’t wanna hear ya telling me how bad a person I am.”

Atsumu swats back at him. “I wasn’t gonna! So, I take it ya haven’t brought this up with Rin?”

“No. I know I should, but…”

Osamu picks his onigiri up again, but doesn’t take a bite. “But what if we talk about it and come to the conclusion that we should break up?”

Atsumu’s first instinct is to call Osamu a coward, but it would backfire on him since he also has a history of being too scared of talking to people. Then again, Osamu’s in a vulnerable state right now, so maybe—

No. Atsumu needs to take this seriously, even if he doesn’t quite get why Osamu seems so glum about this. He switches on his know-it-all attitude that he knows pisses Osamu off, and leans back in his chair so that the front legs lift off the floor, lazily rocking back and forth. 

“Then isn’t that all the more reason to have the conversation, so that if ya come to that conclusion ya can end things? Or do ya seriously wanna be in a relationship where both of ya think ya should break up?”

Osamu is starting to look more annoyed than dejected again. “Like I said, I don’t want to break up with him.”

“Well, ya don’t always get what ya want. Sometimes ya just gotta do what ya gotta do.”

“Yer not being very sympathetic, y’know? Not that I expected it,” Osamu scoffs.

“I’d be sympathetic if I thought ya were actually gonna break up, but I think yer just being dumb.”

“Huh?” Osamu scrunches up his face, looking offended. “That’s rich coming from ya.”

“Remember when we were in middle school and we got a crap ton of apples from one of Pa’s friends who grew them in his garden?”

Now Osamu just looks confused at the sudden change of topic. “Yes? What’s that gotta do with anything?”

“Well, at first ya were over the moon ‘cause apples are yer favorite fruit, but there were so many of them that even though we gave some away and turned some into jam, we still had to eat like five of them every day so they wouldn’t go bad. After three days, ya started getting sick of ‘em and didn’t wanna eat ‘em anymore. That’s hard to imagine—ya not wanting to eat something. But ya forced yerself to keep eating them anyway ‘cause even though ya didn’t wanna eat ‘em, ya wanted to throw ‘em away even less. When we’d finally eaten all of them, ya swore you’d never put another piece of an apple in yer mouth.”

Osamu doesn’t look very entertained by Atsumu’s story, nibbling on his onigiri to pass the time.

“But when a year later we got another batch of apples from the same guy, ya ate them happily ‘cause ya weren’t sick of ‘em anymore. Ya refused to eat ‘em every day, though, ‘cause ya knew you’d get sick of ‘em again and ya hated not liking some food.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“The point is, don’tcha think ya not wanting to spend time with Rin anymore has something to do with the fact that ya forced yerself to see him every week?”

“I never forced myself to see him,” Osamu snaps.

“So this January when ya had to cancel yer plans—was that the first time ya didn’t really feel like seeing him and would’ve rather spent yer day alone?”

“Well… No. But—”

“Then why didja still go out of yer way to make time for him? ‘Cause ya felt like ya were supposed to? Ya should spend time with someone ‘cause ya wanna, not ‘cause ya feel obligated to.”

“But he’s my boyfriend. ‘Course I gotta spend time with him.”

Atsumu lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve never understood why people make romantic relationships out to be so special and so different from other types of relationships. If ya don’t wanna see me some day, ya tell me to fuck off. If I’ve had a long week of practice and cooking dinner with Bokkun sounds too exhausting, I tell him I want some alone time. Why would it be any different when it’s someone yer dating?”

“Ya seriously don’t see a problem with not wanting to spend time with yer partner?” Osamu asks the question like Atsumu’s stupid.

Atsumu responds with a flat look. “Well obviously it’s not a great sign if ya never wanna see ‘em, but that's not the case with Rin and ya. For some reason ya just think there’s an issue with not wanting to spend all yer time with each other. And I get that it’s important to spend time with yer boyfriend, but to me it sounded like ya were so focused on staying close with Rin that ya forgot about everything else. Like, I’ve never heard ya talk about befriending yer school friends and hanging out with them. It was always about Rin, and what ya did with Rin. Ya seemed fine so I never questioned it, but to me it sounds fucking exhausting.”

Osamu takes a bigger bite of his onigiri this time and chews on it aggressively. “What do ya know about all this anyway?”

“Getting a lil’ defensive, huh? Finally realizing that I have a point?” Atsumu smirks.

“No. I’m simply checking my sources.”

“Well, since I’m an honest person, I can admit that I don’t know shit about all this love stuff. It sounds hella confusing, and I’m just glad I’ll never hafta deal with it. But I think it’s common sense—”

“Ya don’t have common sense.”

Atsumu kicks Osamu under the table, forgetting that he’s still balancing on only two legs of his chair and nearly toppling over. He curses under his breath, then acts like nothing happened.

“I think it’s common sense that yer life should have more to it than just one person.”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Obviously. I know that.”

“Do ya though?”

“The problem is that even though we don’t meet up as often anymore, I don’t feel any better, and I don’t think Rin does either. If anything, we feel worse. Starting to spend less time with each other didn’t fix anything.”

“See, I think ya feel bad ‘cause you’ve for some reason convinced yerself that true love equals constant closeness or something idiotic like that. Just accept that it’s normal not to wanna watch someone’s face every single minute of yer life and move on.”

“It’s not that simple,” Osamu scoffs.

“I’m sure it ain’t. But to quote our dear Ma like ya did when I was freaking out about what to do with Omi, relationships aren’t always nice and simple. Ya gotta put some work into them. Don’t ask me what ya should do, though.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t. Or maybe I would so that I could do anything but that.”

“Aww, yer just being pissy ‘cause I gave ya the best advice you’ve heard in yer life but ya don’t wanna admit it,” Atsumu says with an overly sweet smile.

“It might be the best advice you’ve given in yer life, but that doesn’t mean much.”

“Hmm. Are ya gonna eat that or not?” Atsumu reaches for what’s still left of Osamu’s onigiri.

Osamu slaps Atsumu’s arm. “Keep yer filthy hands away from my food,” he hisses and shoves the rest of the rice ball into his mouth.

“Anyway, you’d better get yer shit together. I’m gonna be pissed if ya break up.”

“Well now I just hafta fix things with Rin ‘cause I wouldn’t want you to be upset,” Osamu says sarcastically.

“Exactly! And if Rin breaks yer heart, I’m gonna pay him a lil’ visit to make sure he knows he fucked up. I don’t care how good friends we’ve become.”

“I really don’t think Rin would be intimidated by ya.”

“Maybe, but I’ll bring Bokkun with me.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. “Bokuto is even less threatening than ya.”

Atsumu opens his mouth to protest, but realizes that Osamu’s not completely wrong.

“Then make sure I don’t hafta rough Rin up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Atsumu points at the onigiri ingredients still on the kitchen counter. “Now make a few more rice balls so that I can take ‘em home with me.”

On the Friday night before the opening of Onigiri Miya, all of Atsumu’s family, as well as Suna, are crammed into Osamu’s apartment. The twins’ parents naturally promised to help Osamu with the arrangements for the opening, and they decided to turn the trip to Osaka into a little weekend getaway. Hence, they’ve arrived in Osaka a day early, and as always when all of them are in the same city at the same time, they insist on having a family dinner.

As soon as their mom steps into Osamu’s apartment, she gives Atsumu a scolding for not visiting them in two months.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I’ve just been kinda busy,” Atsummu says and gives an appeasing hug to both his parents.

“Hmm. Busy with anything in particular? Or anyone?”

Atsumu steps further into the apartment and makes a face now that his parents can’t see it. “Nope. Just the same old stuff, Ma.”

For dinner, Osamu has prepared a huge batch of oyakodon. Halfway through the meal, the twins’ parents get overly sentimental about their sons’ past and upcoming achievements.

“I can’t believe my boys have grown up so fast,” their mom sighs, smiling proudly. “One’s among the best volleyball players in the country, the other is about to open his own restaurant.”

Then she looks at Suna. ”And of course ya too, Rintarou-kun. Yer almost done with university, and yer planning on joining the V.League too, right?”

Suna nods. “If one of the teams will have me.”

“I’m sure many teams would love to sign ya,” Atsumu’s dad says. “Every time I check the player rankings in the intercollegiate league, you’ve climbed up a few places.”

Once she’s done being sentimental, Atsumu’s mom turns to him.

“So, Atsumu.”

Atsumu has no idea what she’s going to say, but he has a strange feeling he’s not going to like it.

“A new couple moved onto our street. We invited them for dinner last week, and they also brought their daughter who was visiting them. Turns out she’s studying here in Osaka.”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Now he has an inkling about where this is going, and he was correct—he doesn’t like it one bit.

“She’s really witty and funny, and we got a feeling you’d get along with her really well. She even plays volleyball as a hobby.”

“And what does this have to do with anything?” Atsumu asks, voice tight, even though he already knows the answer.

“Well, she mentioned she’s single too, so we thought we could introduce ya to each other.” His mom looks way too pleased with herself.

“Are ya fucking kidding me?”

Atsumu’s chair screeches against the floor as he shoots up. “How about ya ask me if I’m even looking for a date before sticking yer noses where they don’t belong and setting me up on one?”

The complacent expression fades from his mom’s face and she exchanges a wary look with his dad. The twins’ parents are used to seeing these kinds of outbursts of emotion from Atsumu, of course, but usually he directs them at Osamu, not at them.

“We didn’t set anything up,” their dad clarifies. “We just thought we’d give ya her number so ya could plan something together.”

“And what didja say to her? Is she expecting me to contact her now?” Atsumu demands.

“We only mentioned ya to her. She recognized yer name since she watches volleyball games from time to time and said that she’d love to meet ya if ya ever happen to visit Akashi at the same time. But we didn’t say anything about giving her number to ya, and we definitely didn’t give yer number to her.”

“Wow, how very considerate of ya,” Atsumu scoffs, crossing his arms petulantly.

“Atsumu, please sit back down,” their mom placates, looking agitated by Atsumu’s tantrum. “It was just an idea we had. I’m sorry if it made ya uncomfortable.”

”I promise we’re not pressuring ya into anything,” their dad adds. “Yer allowed to do things at yer own pace. We thought ya would like her, but if yer not interested, yer free to say no.”

“Well, I’m saying no,” Atsumu grunts moodily, but sits back down.

Suna is looking at him with a mix of confusion, amusement, and curiosity. Osamu looks fed up, but Atsumu’s not sure if it’s Atsumu’s dramatics or their parents bringing this topic up for the umpteenth time that he’s tired of. Probably both.

Their parents say they’re sorry once more, though they seem a little confused about why their suggestion is something they need to apologize for. They don’t bring their neighbors’ daughter up again, but the damage has already been done, and Atsumu sulks for the rest of the dinner.

Their parents eventually leave for their hotel, whereas Atsumu stays behind to help Osamu with the dishes while Suna takes a shower.

“Why don’tcha just come out to them?” Osamu asks and hands out a plate for Atsumu to dry. “Every time they ask ya if yer seeing anyone, ya get more annoyed.”

“Would you not be annoyed?” Atsumu snaps, wishing to just forget the whole conversation.

“I would. That’s not what this is about, and ya know it. I’m saying that telling them about yer sexuality would shut them up.”

Atsumu wipes the plate dry with more force than necessary. “Would it, though? I don’t think they’d understand.”

“Why wouldn’t they? They were super understanding and supportive when I came out.”

“They were,” Atsumu grants. “But do ya remember what they said back then?”

“That they love us for who we are?” Osamu says, raising an eyebrow as if he just proved a point. 

He holds out another plate and Atsumu yanks it out of his hand.

“Yes. But they also said that the right way to live yer life is by loving and being loved.” Bitterness is starting to seep into Atsumu’s voice.

“Ma’s an incurable romantic, and Pa’s not much better. And like, I get it. They're high school sweethearts that have been happily in love with each other their whole lives. Of course they think love is great, and of course they want that for us too. And of course I don’t think me never falling in love is gonna sit well with ‘em.”

“But they also said back then that all they care about is us being happy,” Osamu insists.

“No, they said that all they care about is us finding someone we can be happy with. So much of the happiness in their lives has come from being with each other that I don’t think they can picture anyone being happy on their own.

“I’m not saying they’re gonna disown me or anything. But they’re gonna think this is something they can change my mind about. They’re gonna say that I just haven’t met the right person yet, and that I need to keep looking. Like I said, they’re not gonna understand. And… I’d rather they didn’t know about this part of me than completely disregard it.”

Osamu looks like he wants to argue, but knows Atsumu is correct. Which means he looks like he’s in a great deal of pain, because one of the things the twins have in common is hating it when the other one is right about something.

“Well, as long as ya know that they’re gonna keep bugging ya about it until ya either get together with someone or tell ‘em the truth.”

“What are you guys talking about?

Atsumu yelps and almost drops the bowl he’s drying when Suna suddenly speaks behind him. The running tap water must’ve hidden Suna’s footsteps. 

Osamu looks at Atsumu expectantly, wordlessly telling Atsumu that this would be a good moment for him to come out to Suna. Atsumu really should. And he wants to. But he mulls it over in his head for too long, and Osamu takes it as a sign to cover for him.

“Y’know, just that Tsumu’s gonna be single forever.”

“What’s new?” Suna says as he leans over Osamu to grab a glass from the cabinet.

Atsumu puts the bowl away and crosses his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suna turns the running tap from hot to cold for a moment to fill his glass. “I don’t think there’s room for anything in your heart aside from volleyball and yourself.”

“Haha, real funny. Well, since yer done with yer shower, ya can help yer boyfriend with the rest of the dishes and I can go home.”

“But I've had such a long day of travel, and that was after an exhausting morning practice.”

“Not my problem,” Atsumu sing-songs and puts the kitchen towel on the counter.

“That’s another reason you’ll be single forever. Absolutely no consideration for others,” Suna says, sounding like Atsumu’s grandma when she complains about the youth.

Atsumu scowls at him and picks up the towel again to throw it at Suna. It clings to his head.

Suna removes the towel and shakes his head. “Tsk. Childish too.” 

Atsumu is not childish, which he proves by removing himself from the situation with poise.

“Remember. Tomorrow, one o’clock, at the restaurant. Don’t be late,” Osamu says as Atsumu ties his shoes in the genkan.

“Pfft, when am I ever late? Though I still don’t understand why I gotta waste my precious time chopping onions for ya when ya have yer boyfriend here to do the work.”

“I provide different kinds of services to Samu,” Suna smirks and takes a sip from his glass.

Atsumu’s mouth twists in disgust. “Yer the worst, Sunarin, y’know that?”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Rin’s coming to help tomorrow too. Stop whining and make sure yer lazy ass is at the restaurant on time tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see ya then.”

“Alright, bye.”

Before leaving Osamu’s apartment, Atsumu spends a few seconds eyeing Osamu and Suna now that it’s just the two of them left, doing the dishes side by side. It’s been two months since Osamu confided his worries about his and Suna’s relationship to Atsumu. It should have been enough time for Osamu to have brought it up with Suna, but Atsumu can say from personal experience that talking things through with people can be difficult.

Osamu and Suna look at ease with each other now, at least. Then again, those two are sometimes so tight-assed about the emotions they show to the outside world that it’s hard to tell if they actually are comfortable.

Atsumu hopes they’ve gotten their shit together. He leaves the apartment thinking once again about how he’s glad he can avoid that kind of relationship drama.

Then he’s reminded of what Suna said. “I don’t think there’s room for anything in your heart aside from volleyball and yourself.”

Atsumu knows he was just joking. Suna’s blunt and snarky, but he doesn’t usually mean any harm. That doesn’t mean his words are pulled out of thin air, though.

Is that how people see Atsumu? Too self-centered and focused on volleyball to be able to spare a thought to anyone else? Too inconsiderate and immature for anyone to want to date him?

It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Atsumu doesn’t want to date anyone anyway. Who cares what others think of him?

But like… If he wasn’t aroace, would he still be single forever? When years have gone by and Atsumu still has never dated anyone, will anyone be surprised?

Atsumu has always found it sad how some people’s self-worth is tied so strongly to whether they’re in a relationship or not. But he has to admit that on some level, it makes sense. It’s nice to feel wanted, and being in a relationship is solid proof that at least one person feels that way about you.

Atsumu tells himself to stop thinking about it. He’s only brooding because his parents’ attempt at matchmaking left him in a sour mood.

Tomorrow is going to be a fun day—Osamu will finally get to open his restaurant, Atsumu will get to eat his delicious onigiris, and he’ll get to catch up with his old teammates again as they have all been invited to the grand opening.

Atsumu makes a point of being a good brother and arrives at Onigiri Miya to help with the opening arrangements five minutes early. But because no good deed goes unpunished, Osamu still blames Atsumu for them being a little behind schedule.

Today’s opening is more of a celebration for Osamu’s dream coming true, and it’s only for friends and family. Tomorrow, the restaurant will be open to the public as well. Atsumu’s been advertising Onigiri Miya on his social media since the day Osamu decided on the name, but he makes sure to post plenty of photos of the opening party to make sure that as many people as possible find their way to the restaurant the next day.

The party is in full swing when he is rudely ordered to go help Suna with the dishes that have accumulated so far.

“Doing Samu’s dishes seems to be the theme of this weekend,” Atsumu grumbles. “Though I suppose ya hafta do his dishes every time ya visit him.”

Atsumu rinses a bowl and puts it into the dishwasher, eyeing Suna next to him. “Even if ya don’t visit him as often nowadays.”

“What’s the difference between making your own dishes at home or someone else’s dishes when you’re visiting them anyway? You just have to make a big deal out of being a decent human being and helping others.”

Of course Atsumu wouldn’t get a reaction out of Suna. It’s better to be forthright.

“How are things with Samu, by the way?”

Suna’s eyes briefly flicker to his boyfriend across the restaurant. “What makes you ask?”

“Just checking on a dear friend.”

“‘Cause I sure hope Samu hasn’t blabbered about our personal business to you.”

Atsumu winces as he switches the dishwasher on. He didn’t get Osamu in trouble, did he?

“No, he wouldn’t have. It’s just the twin intuition,” Atsumu says nervously. Then he pauses, frowning. “Besides, Samu’s allowed to—”

Atsumu’s ready to defend Osamu’s right to talk about his problems to others, but then he notices the amused look on Suna’s face.

Atsumu elbows him. “Quit playing with me! Ya already knew that he talked to me about it, didn’tcha?”

“Yeah. He told me you gave him some shit advice.”

Atsumu scoffs. “That ungrateful scrub. My advice was pretty damn good, especially considering I—”

Ah. He can’t continue that sentence, can he?

“Considering what?” Suna prods. “That you’re a child with no idea how to manage relationships in a mature way?”

There it is again.

“Ya really understate my awesomeness. I’m not the worst person on earth, y’know?” Atsumu huffs, going for his usual brashness, but a little insecurity bleeds into his voice.

Suna must hear it because he looks at Atsumu funny. “Trust me, if you were, I wouldn’t tolerate you as much as I do.”

“Wow, thanks for the high praise,” Atsumu says sarcastically, but since there was no sarcasm in Suna’s voice, it actually is pretty high praise coming from him. “Here I was, thinking that to ya, I’m just a knock-off Samu that ya only deem worthy of yer time when yer having a hard time with the real deal.”

Suna purses his lips ever so slightly, thinking for a moment. “I— Hmm. You’re not just a knock-off Samu. But you definitely are a knock-off Samu.”

“No I’m not! Samu’s the spare one.”

“Nah, you’re the prototype. It’s like with pancakes. There’s always something wrong with the first one.”

Atsumu leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “The first ones are the best, though. Ma never allowed us to eat the good ones before they were served, but we were free to eat the first one, and it might’ve been ugly, but it still tasted delicious.”

“There you go. Even the first pancakes aren’t all bad.”

A small smile rises to Atsumu’s lips. Then it turns into a frown, then into a grimace. He looks at Suna who’s also cringing.

Atsumu lets out a cackle. “When didja become so cheesy?”

“I don’t know what got into me,” Suna says, sounding traumatized.

That’s when Osamu notices they’re more focused on talking than doing the dishes, and barks out commands to hurry up.

“Ya never answered my question,” Atsumu points out after they’re done with the dishes.

Suna stays quiet as he dries his hands, but doesn’t pretend not to know what question Atsumu’s referring to. “Samu and I are good, I think,” he finally says. “I know we will be, at the very least.”

Atsumu nods, smiling softly but trying to hide it. “Good. Otherwise Bokkun and I would’ve had to teach ya a lesson.”

“What’s Bokuto got to do with this?” Suna asks, confused.

“I’d have brought him as backup.”

That baffles Suna even more. “You’d have brought Bokuto as backup? Granted, I don’t really know the guy, but he seems like he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

Atsumu sighs, realizing that his plan was doomed to fail.

“Damn, Bokkun really is too nice for his own good,” he says and makes his way back to the party. 

The public opening of Onigiri Miya is a success, and Osamu’s business gets off to a strong start. Visiting the restaurant quickly becomes a weekly routine for Atsumu. Usually he goes there right before Osamu closes for the day, when it’s nice and quiet and Osamu isn’t too busy. It means he has to help Osamu clean up, but he also gets the day’s leftovers for free.

Not that Osamu makes him pay for his food when he visits during the daytime either. Instead, he forgets to charge Atsumu for his food, and then uses that as an excuse to make Atsumu scrub the toilets of the restaurant.

While folding his laundry and watching the highlights of the past week’s volleyball games across the world one night, Atsumu sees Mikhail Orlov score three consecutive service aces using what the commentators call a hybrid serve. Atsumu immediately decides he needs to be able to do it too—it’s way too cool not to add it to his repertoire of serves.

But when he starts practicing it, it turns out to be much trickier to master than he thought. He keeps messing it up, which in turn makes him mess everything else up too. So, he goes to Onigiri Miya to bitch about how difficult the serve is, and receives absolutely no sympathy whatsoever from his twin.

When Atsumu completely sticks his foot in his mouth at a fan event and feels so embarrassed he wants the ground to swallow him up, he goes to Onigiri Miya to seek consolation from his comfort food. The tuna onigiri instantly cheers Atsumu up, but he also gets laughed at by Osamu when he explains the reason for his sour mood, so he ends up right back where he started.

His ego is eventually soothed when clips of him making a fool of himself stop circulating on the internet, and instead, he goes viral for posing in a cologne ad in a shirtless suit. In fact, Atsumu’s started receiving so many offers for modeling gigs, brand deals, and sponsorships that he hires an agent to handle them on his behalf.

When Atsumu gets the paycheck from a particularly lucrative brand deal, he ceremoniously pays for his food at Onigiri Miya for the first time—and for the last time. Osamu would make him do free labor even if he paid for every meal, so there’s no way Atsumu’s going to give his brother any more money.

Onigiri Miya is also where the Jackals head to celebrate their bronze medals at the end of the season. Atsumu supposes the third place is worth celebrating, even if he’s more upset about not making it to the finals than he is happy about winning the third place game.

It’s just that they were so close to getting to the finals this time. It feels like the Jackals are a thousand-piece puzzle, only missing one or two pieces. If they can find those pieces next season, that trophy could finally be theirs.