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“Were you predicting the future, Atsumu-kun?”
“Huh?”
It’s late at night, and again, it’s the two of them, practicing well until 10pm when really, they should have gone home with the rest of the team at 9pm. But Shouyou wanted to continue practicing, restless energy practically vibrating off of him in waves, and Atsumu has never been the type of setter to deny his spikers a hit, and then another hit. He could have left Shouyou alone to clean up later, but there was the match with the Adlers up. They’d be facing Tobio-kun again, and maybe, Atsumu, wanted to make sure that the two of them had the freak quick first invented by Tobio-and-Shouyou to be perfected by Atsumu-and-Shouyou.
Though, even if he wanted to set the ball again and again forever, just to hear the resounding slap of Shouyouu’s palm against rubber inside the empty gymnasium, he wants it even more in the stadium of the upcoming stadium. Not because he wants the audience to know that yes, he’s one of the best out here, but because he knows he’s one of the best.
That his team is one of the best in Japan. And that Shouyou’s debut is soon, so he wants the world to see how amazing #21 wing spiker and outside hitter is too. Standing at 172.2cm tall and 70.1kg in weight. He’s grown so much from the first time he saw him, and it’s unfair, how it seems that he has become more radiant.
“I asked if you were predicting the future,” Shouyou repeats his question, and Atsumu blinks. They’ve put away the equipment, and are cooling down on the gym floor, post-training stretches, because that’s always part of the routine. Prevention of hurting yourself, everything needs to be done in moderation. At least, his old high school captain was all moderation and diligence, growing rice and maybe ‘Samu owes Onigiri Miya’s success to Kita-san because good rice means good foundations for onigiri.
Atsumu blinks again, and realizes that he doesn’t know much about Shouyou, where he came from, aside from being a middle blocker for Karasuno, that he had Tobio-kun wrapped around his finger because of his voracity to play the game. That he got taken out during the match with Kamomedai.
He turns his cheek to the side, Shouyou’s direction, and feels the cool press of the wooden pane against his skin. Right leg stretched out, and left knee touching the floor too, left leg bent in an almost perfect 90-degree angle. All he sees is the back of Shouyou’s head, and Atsumu considers an answer. It’s been so long since he’s thought about the declaration.
Because who needs memories when you have the real thing in front of you?
“I just knew that I wanted to set for you one day,” it isn’t a yes or no answer to what essentially could have been a yes or no question. That answers could be simple and should be simple unless proven otherwise. Atsumu believes in himself before anyone else, and maybe ‘Samu second, even if he would never admit that out loud. Now he believes in the rest of the Black Jackals, like he had believed in his teammates in Inarizaki back in high school. But he had also believed that there were wings on Shouyou’s back the first time he saw him jump, higher and higher. ‘Your reaction was real dull though,” Atsumu counts to ten in his head before finally sitting up, lets himself have a proper chuckle. “I’d like to think that you would have been more in awe. Instead you just looked surprised stupid.”
He crosses his ankles, elbow propped against his knee, knuckles pressed against his cheek. Shouyou’s back facing him again, broader, compared to that last match Inarizaki had against Karasuno. It was good match, and he and his team had emerged victorious.
Shouyou’s palm was warm when they shook hands from across the net, his head held up high with eyes bright with determination. Atsumu thought that it was such a shame that he wouldn’t be playing with the boy any time soon but returned a sincere grin.
Considerations of “I’ll be waiting for you,” that he doesn’t tell the other from across the net, because last year was embarrassing enough. He had wondered if Shouyou had even remembered what he had said the year before.
Atsumu gets his answer years later, and right now Shouyou’s counting to ten, before stretching his arms over his head, straightens his back before turning to face him. Broader back, skin tanned from the Brazilian sun, and a more defined jawline. When he first heard from word of mouth that Shouyou had flown halfway across the world to play beach volleyball, Atsumu had wondered if that was necessary.
Shouyou only laughs cheerfully when he’s done with his stretches in response. Eyes that crinkle at the edges, and a grin just as infectious. “I just thought you were a scary opponent at the time! Seeing you and Osamu-san going all swoosh and then bam! right after me and Kageyama’s quick had me stunned.”
“You mean in awe.”
Shouyou shrugs, a little helpless. “Okay, maybe that too. But I was still processing the victory, okay?” he bends forward to reach his toes, “I was trying to figure out which Miya twin you were. The scary one, or the scarier one.”
“Oh?” and that piques Atsumu’s interest, prompting him to get up and plop beside Shouyou, “So. Am I the scary twin, or the scarier one?”
Shouyou snorts, then giggles. “I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that,” and Atsumu gives him a light shove for that. Watches how Shouyou simply flops to the side without a fight, giggles now laughter. Atsumu does not pout, but he does cross his arms.
“You’re pouting over this?” Shouyou points out, and Atsumu turns his cheek away, still not pouting. “Come on,” and Shouyou gets up, crawls over to him, and oh. They are really close to each other now, “if you think about it, that’s a compliment isn’t it? That just means I knew you were really strong, before I even knew you.”
This is unfair. Does Shouyou know what he does to Atsumu? If so, that’s incredibly unfair. If not, then not only is it incredibly, but also doubly unfair.
“Well, now that you know me. Am I still scary?” god, his cheeks are so warm. He’s hoping he can pass off the red he’s sure on his face as the aftermath of a good practice session. Shouyou makes him so embarrassing, even if he can hear Sakusa’s voice in his head bluntly stating that he’s always embarrassing.
“Nope!” Shouyou grins brightly at him, “Not at all.”
And maybe Atsumu should be insulted at how easily Shouyou had answered that without another moment of consideration. But really, all it does is make him want to kiss him.
Kiss him?
Wait.
Oh. Oh no.