Chapter Text
osamu thought it was karma for eating his pudding cup that had his name on it from the fridge. atsumu had gotten away with a lot taking things from osamu, so osamu simply laughs internally at his twin’s dilemma.
it’s midway through the school year and summer’s just ended. the homeroom teacher of class 3-2 decided to switch up the seating plan to “freshen things up.” atsumu thought it was a dumb idea until you were placed to his right, the wall to his left. it was still kinda dumb because osamu sat behind you, meaning that he had a perfect viewpoint of atsumu’s current dilemma.
atsumu had a sorta crush on you. it wasn’t huge per say, didn’t stop him from doing his thing, but it existed and so did you, right next to him.
this sucks, you think. the hot miya twins were surrounding you (hooray), but that also meant you’d get pestered by their groupies. they are really good looking, no one denies that (including you). and you have to admit that you wouldn’t know how to act if you looked like that, but you had long come to terms with your plain-looking appearance. you wouldn’t turn heads or anything, but under the right lighting and makeup, you’d be considered cute; nothing out of the ordinary really. you don’t say anything though. whatever. if anyone had a problem, it wasn’t your responsibility. and you guess it wasn’t that bad, they seemed nice enough.
atsumu spares a couple of glances over your way. you look irked. his heart drops. did you not like him? did he do something to offend you?
osamu can read atsumu like a book. you’ve barely interacted with the atsumu, having been in the college prep classes in year one (he wonders why you left) and in class with him for year two, so you hating either of them was unlikely. maybe it was the association? you seemed to prefer a more quiet lifestyle. osamu smirks. this could be fun.
“so i hope everyone had a fulfilling summer vacation. today, we will begin homeroom with your class representatives discussing your exhibit for this year’s school festival. while the cultural festival will be in november and we have the athletics festival prior to that, it would be a good idea to get a head start. nishimura-san, kanagaoka-san, please make your way to the front.”
ah yes, the school festival. how could atsumu forget. it’s where he started noticing you after all. last year, atsumu was in class 2-1 and you and osamu in 2-2. class 2-2 ran a maid and butler cafe. it was fine, you looked cute, osamu looked hot, yada yada. the issues only began when atsumu joined in dressed as a butler. lots of the girls and even girls from other schools came to your classroom to see him and osamu together. it didn’t help that suna was in your class too. the girls just jumped at the chance to see the attractive volleyball members all cleaned up. to say it was hectic was an understatement.
part way through, you and the volleyball players were assigned kitchen duty.
you were livid. you hated how busy, noise and stuffy the classroom had gotten, so you decided to take things into your own hands. the class reps had instituted a ten minute seating time limit to ensure max profit so the only issue was getting food out as fast as possible, you concluded. you tied up your hair and decided to streamline the whole cooking process. four people at prep, three at cooking and two plating.
when atsumu walked up to you with a sly smile asking for his job, you pushed a cutting board and knife into his hands, “get slicing, pretty boy.”
the way you looked up at him in your frilly maid outfit and a fire lit in your eye made his breath hitch. pretty boy? your mouth was set in a matching sly smile as you peered up at him.
“come on,“ you beckon, "those fangirls aren’t gonna feed themselves now.”
you turn, skirt swishing behind you. atsumu raises his brow, scoffing a little. you’d probably just be plating, pushing all the hard work to the boys.
to his surprise, you take up cooking next to osamu. and atsumu was soon left in awe at how quickly and confidently you dished out the orders. the little maid outfit didn’t help. suna was very happy on plating duty.
by the time your shift ended and atsumu had half a mind to talk to you, you already left on your break. he tried to talk to you since then, but it never really worked out. he caught you leaving school one day and asked if you had anything to do after class. he wanted to invite you to come watch practice.
“um, i’ve got work to go to and then i’ll be studying.”
“oh,” he had said intelligently. “well then, bye.”
you looked at him funny and said your goodbyes.
another time, he caught you, osamu and suna laughing at something as he made his way into your class to ask osamu for his english dictionary. he didn’t know what you were talking about, but you had called osamu “miya-kun” while osamu and suna used “-chan” to refer to you. he had tried it later that day and all he got was a “i don’t think we are that familiar with each other, miya-san.”
miya-san? atsumu felt like crying. come on!
you were pretty elusive. you had a part time job and high grades all across the board so most of your time was already allocated for. he tried to approach you at lunch, but you had two close friends that he didn’t really know and the one he did had a boyfriend that he didn’t know really well so he was stuck. he made a habit of waving at you so you acknowledged him and didn’t ignore him (thank god, he didn’t know how he’d survive that) but otherwise never had contact with him.
you weren’t the most attractive by society’s standards, he knew, but you weren’t ugly. you had a quiet sort of confidence. and atsumu didn’t really love you, it was more of a weird hyper-fixation after the fact that you had demanded something of him and used a pet name even though you had never formally met. even during the first half of your third year, you sat far away and never really had any reasons to interact with him.
maybe he was a masochist.
fast forward to now and you were right next to him. you sigh and atsumu tenses. osamu leans back in his chair. he’s being too fidgety, he thinks.
you groan internally, nothing good will come out of having the twins in class exhibition-type events, so you pray for anything but that (especially because the twins have only managed to get more attractive in their third year). atsumu hopes this gives him a chance to actually talk to you, for god’s sake. osamu prays for a bunch of food stalls again this year.
of course, the idea of a maid and butler cafe comes up. last year, your class made a killing and won the award for best exhibit due to the twins’ sheer popularity.
you slide back in your chair closing your eyes.
atsumu takes the chance to stare. your hair looked like spun gold with the sunlight hitting it. okay, that was way too romantic when he doesn’t even register on your radar yet. you sigh and silently rap your fingers on the desk, getting bored. your hands are small he notices. small wrist, small palms, small—. he looks up and you’re looking at him with an eyebrow raised.
atsumu takes out his phone and discreetly types “hi” before showing you. you read it and then wave back, confused. osamu texts atsumu.
>> (08:47) r u ok
>> (08:47) shut up!!!!!
osamu covers his mouth and laughs.