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People said that Atsumu and Osamu were too different to be twins. Osamu thought that they might be right.
Or maybe not.
People who didn't get him would've thought that he was a disinterested, bored, dispassionate person due to his lack of response and expression. The opposite of Atsumu, they said. Not that Osamu really cared about what people think of him. People that he cared about knew him well, that was all that matters.
That was why when Osamu finally told Atsumu about his decision to quit pursuing volleyball, he thought his twin, of all people, would understand.
Their fight was pretty nasty. It started out with a three days worth of cold war between them before it was resolved pretty quickly with a little bit of yelling and a little bit of collar grabbing here and there. But they were good. Osamu showed how determined he was with his decision and passion, and that was what matter to Atsumu, it seemed. Their endless competition was still on.
It didn't mean that Atsumu would pass off the chance when his boyfriend asked if he wanted to visit Miyagi, just so Atsumu could ‘feel better’.
"I'm meeting Shouyo tomorrow," Atsumu said the day after they made up.
"Huh?" Osamu put down the magazine he'd been reading. He saw Atsumu begin to pack his overnight bag. "Why?"
Osamu knew his twin's visiting schedule, which was always the first weekend of the month. And this weekend was totally not it.
"He offered if I wanted to come when I told him we fight."
Atsumu was okay. Both of them were fine now. Atsumu was even smiling right now as he packed, a total opposite of his brooding self for the past few days. So Osamu really didn't get the point of Atsumu going there only so his cute boyfriend could give him some reassurance. But he didn't say anything because deep down, he guessed he kind of understand. Although just a bit.
Two days later after Atsumu came back home from visiting Shouyo, Osamu saw how lights were completely back in his twin's eyes. The exact moment he stepped into the house, he declared that he would take Osamu to the finals of Spring High for his last ever official volleyball tournament.
Now, Osamu didn't know where that confident came from, but he smiled nonetheless, and silently thanked Shouyo.
In the end, it seemed like they were similar when it came to determination.
Osamu couldn't predict whether his brother could really fulfill the promise of bringing him to finals or not. Atsumu sucked at keeping promises sometimes.
But at this exact moment, as his twin fulfilled his other promise he declared to his not-yet boyfriend then, which was to beat Karasuno the second time around they go against each other, Osamu thought that maybe his twin wasn’t so bad at keeping promises, after all.
Inarizaki won.
The deafening roar of cheer from all around the stadium nearly hurt his ear. His sweat never felt stickier on his skin. His eyes stung badly for some unknown reasons, maybe it was from the sweat fallen into them, or maybe, just maybe, it was the tears. His breath hadn't calmed down, if anything, it became more and more erratic by the seconds. And his legs and arms couldn't stop trembling from the sheer amount of excitement that rushing throughout his body.
When Atsumu walked to him so they could do their usual shoulders bump, once again, Osamu thought that yeah, they were not that different. They both loved winning.
Osamu saw his twin's line of sight moved toward the second year, shortie middle blocker on the other side of the net. Atsumu smiled his brightest smile at Shouyo. And that smile was gone as soon as he saw Shouyo's crumbling face.
Osamu didn't mean to overheard or peek on the moment between his twin and his boyfriend.
God forbid that he would ever have to witness them doing something disturbing after the match. But, in the split second before Osamu hid himself behind a pillar, away from the couple's line of sight, Osamu could see Atsumu hugging Shouyo in the corner of a deserted corridor.
Both Atsumu and Shouyo had changed out of their sweaty jerseys. And Shouyo clung onto Atsumu, with his head completely buried in his twin's chest, with his twin's hands kept on rubbing his back and stroking his unruly orange hair.
Shouyo was crying, Osamu realized.
Because he lost? No. Osamu could hear bits and pieces of his muffled cries. ' I can't play against you again now,' Shouyo cried . 'That was the last time.'
Osamu rested his head on the wall and got himself thinking.
Only a few minutes ago, Shouyo was the air that Atsumu couldn't control from the other side of the court. And here he was after the game ended, as if the switch was turned, Shouyo let himself completely vulnerable in front of Atsumu.
This win against Karasuno was something that Atsumu had wanted since last year. His twin should've been overjoyed. But seeing the person he loved the most in entire world crying, not because he lost, but because the simple fact that they couldn't play against each other anymore, made this wasn't about who win and who lose.
Seeing his twin brother with his Shouyo made Osamu realized that sports, match, or competition in general was pretty similar with showing vulnerability. It was having the courage when we have no control over the outcome.
Maybe the meaning of winning or losing between them now wasn't exactly the same anymore, after all.
Osamu expected to see his brother fall into the deepest pit of dark hole when Shouyo left for Brazil. He was glad he was wrong.
He was the same old Atsumu. Sometimes whining about how much he missed Shouyo. Sometimes bothering him about which items he should send to Shouyo, although the destination of the packages now was no longer Miyagi. Sometimes irking him with endless giggles and cheesy lines that Osamu could hear when he called Shouyo.
See? Nothing really changed. That much.
Except the fact that right now Atsumu couldn't visit Shouyo once a month like back then.
Except the fact that right now Atsumu was a professional volleyball player with actual responsibilities in his hands.
Except the fact that right now Atsumu didn't have both Osamu and Shouyo in his life as much as he liked.
Didn't take long before Atsumu started to crumble down.
It had piled up for a while. Bad days at practice. His new techniques didn't work well. He missed Shouyo. Shouyo apparently also had a series of bad days. He couldn't be physically there to comfort Shouyo, and Shouyo couldn't be physically here to comfort him.
Osamu could practically see how all of this was eating his twin inside out.
"People always say it'll get better tomorrow, " Atsumu said with his face completely buried in his folded hands on the wooden table on Osamu's small onigiri shop. "But what if it won’t?"
Osamu stayed silent as he let his hands busy preparing his twin favorite's onigiri.
Atsumu could be talking about volleyball. Or maybe about missing Shouyo. Both were something that Osamu couldn't help him with.
Worrying about what tomorrow would bring, huh? He guessed his twin was a normal human being with the same worries as him.
“Then you say it again tomorrow,” Osamu answered. The sound of the steam coming from his rice warmer was the only thing he could hear beside his own voice. “Again and again, you say it. Because we never know. At some point, tomorrow will be better.”
When Shouyo was finally home for good after spending the last two years across the world, Osamu watched how Atsumu finally, like finally, broke down.
His idiot twin brother held it in for two years. It exceeded Osamu’s expectation, for sure. He expected Atsumu to break in the first month of Shouyo’s leaving. But Atsumu held strong.
“It’s much harder for Shouyo. I don’t have the right to cry.” Osamu remembered his brother say to him back then when he mentioned that it was okay for him to cry.
Looking at how tight Atsumu held Shouyo in his arms, as if it was even less tighter than it already was, Shouyo would vanish from his sight, in the middle of airport arrival gate, Osamu felt a rush of pride running through his usually immovable heart. He even felt his eyes pricked with tears, because apparently seeing your twin crying his eyes out in the arms of the love of his life could make even someone like him emotional.
“Don’t ever leave again,” Osamu heard his brother say in between his uncontrollable sobs, not caring about how loud and embarrassing his crying was. “I’m coming with you the next time you go.”
Shouyo laughed at that, with tears also running down his cheeks. He was tan, bigger than Osamu could ever imagine, stronger enough to hold Atsumu who was completely slacked his whole body onto him. Yet Shouyo looked so, so happy.
“Anywhere I go?” Shouyo asked.
The answer from Atsumu was immediate. “Anywhere you go.”
Osamu would never understand love. But at least he understood just how deep his twin and his now no-longer-so-cute boyfriend love each other.
Everyone always said that he and Atsumu were different. While Osamu never really denied that because he too could see how different he was from his twin brother, he also wouldn't erase the fact of how similar they were. So really, he couldn't pinpoint the fundamental that made them different.
But as Osamu looked at his twin from outside of the court, no longer he was the one who received that perfect toss, no longer that bright smile and that excited claps directed at him after every point, Osamu saw the burning passion Atsumu had for the sport he loved so much, he saw the sweet and fond gaze Atsumu never fail to throw at the epitome of literal sunshine his twin called his lover, or—borrowing Atsumu's words—his spiker, Osamu realized what made him and Atsumu different.
God was thinking of Shouyo when He created Atsumu.