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To the Apple of my Eye,
Dear (y/n),
It's been five months since I fell in love with you. Even up to this day, I can't believe that I'm seriously losing without a fight to my stupid brother. I pity you for having such assholes as admirers. Still, it's just that I've never seen that piss face so happy before. He's always been a volleyball nerd, much more than I would ever be. I was surprised to see that he could pay attention to something—much less someone—other than the sport.
The first time ‘Tsumu told me about you, I had let out a laugh. Why? Because I knew you were going to have your heart broken. That dumbass's reputation in dating has gone further down the gutter, if that's even possible. To be frank, you weren't his type. His flings were usually anyone who'd go batshit crazy for him—the girls who wore blood red lipstick and miniskirts.
But you… you were just a background character. Well, you were described as the kindest person in the whole school. An absolute angel. I found that hard to believe because surely, you must've had a side you wanted to hide from everyone.
I guess that's what ‘Tsumu fell in love with. When he introduced you to me, all I could think about was that you were too good for him. Not that I'm any better.
People often say I'm living in ‘Tsumu's shadow. That wasn't entirely a lie, though. Volleyball was his idea. I just went along with the flow and somehow, I had come to love it as well—not to the degree that ‘Tsumu does, of course.
I've always hated losing to him, and I'm sure he feels the same way. You were the only exception to this feeling. That brat's not going to be with me forever. As much as I hate his guts, I wouldn't want him to be with someone who was only after his fame.
Still, why is it that every time I see you, I find it harder to let you go? I may never know the answer to this, (y/n). Till next time.
Truly you
“‘Samu! Hurry up, Kita-san’s waiting!”
The pen in Osamu's hand budged, ruining his neat penmanship. Although he wanted nothing more than to give his brother a taste of his own medicine, Osamu decided to stop writing and head downstairs. It wouldn’t end well if Kita reprimanded them for being late.
“What took ya so long, shit face?” Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows at him. “If Kita-san makes us run two extra laps, do it yerself.”
Okay, maybe he really did want to punch him at least once.
“Shut yer mouth, Tsumu.” Osamu tucked his feet into his shoes. “Don’t go yapping as if ya actually care about Kita-san.” It wasn’t possible for Atsumu to be this eager about going to practice (except for when he wanted to beat someone). Naturally, the source of his motivation was no other than—
“—(y/n)-chan says she’s already at school!” His brother couldn’t have looked more lovestruck. Osamu gagged at this, which earned him a smack on his back. “Ya have a lot of nerve to do that when I have to tolerate seeing yer face everyday!”
Osamu went silent. Atsumu took this as a sign of defeat as peals of laughter left his mouth. The younger twin could only heave a sigh of exasperation.
He’d never tell Atsumu about this, but he could barely tolerate seeing him together with (y/n) everyday.
“(n/n), this is my twin brother, ‘Samu! ‘Samu, this is (y/n)!”
Honestly, with how often Atsumu talked about (y/n), an introduction wasn’t needed; yet all Osamu could think of was that his shitty brother probably wanted to make a good impression on her. Left without a choice, he went along with Atsumu’s whims and flashed the girl a smile.
“Nice to meet ya, my name’s ‘Samu!”
“I’m (y/n)! ‘Tsumu talks nonstop about you!” Oh my gosh. If only you knew how close he was to stitching his twin’s mouth every time you were the subject of their conversation. “I heard that you’re really good at cooking!”
The urge to humiliate his brother overcame his kindness. Osamu was quick to answer with, “Did ‘Tsumu say that? With a brother like him, who can even burn water, I think it was appropriate for me to take cooking to my own hands.”
Despite Atsumu's face flushing in anger, he managed to let out a chuckle at Osamu's attempt at “joking”. “Nice one, ‘Samu!”
(y/n) burst into a fit of laughter, completely unaware of the tension going on between the twins. She wiped the stray tear on the corner of her eyes before heaving a sigh. “You’re really funny, Osamu-san!”
“You’re here! ‘Tsumu, Osamu-san!”
Osamu-san. He's always been Osamu-san. Whenever Atsumu made fun of him for it, it took everything in him not to shave Atsumu’s head there and then. At night, he’d find himself thinking that perhaps (y/n) didn’t like him enough to consider him as a friend.
Maybe she was just used to associating him with Atsumu; they had come as a pair, after all. It wasn’t like she needed to like him.
“(n/n)!” Atsumu scampered to where (y/n) was, and immediately twirled (y/n) around in the air. Suna gagged in the background, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Atsumu. “Ya want me to carry ya like that too, Suna?”
“Please, I'd rather fall down a cliff than let you carry me.”
Osamu couldn’t help the laugh that left him. “Yeah, I'd barf if ‘Tsumu suddenly carried me like that.”
“Why would I even carry a grown man like ya, ‘Samu?!”
Their banter was quickly interrupted by Kita. “Do we need to wait another eternity to start practice?” Much to (y/n) and Aran’s amusement, this was enough to silence the trio. “I’m glad we came to an agreement.”
Practice went as usual. or at least that's how Osamu wanted to think. Despite convincing himself everyday that he was accustomed to seeing Atsumu and (y/n) flirt like a couple—though he was well aware that they weren't—his jealousy only increased with each passing second.
Nicknames, holding hands, a hug here and there—his brother had the nerve to snatch a kiss from her. Only on the cheek, of course; Osamu didn't think he'd be able to control himself if he saw him kiss her on the lips.
“Dismissed!” The word had never been so relieving, especially when it came from kita's lips. Osamu quickly changed his clothes in record time, immediately making his way out of the court.
Well, that was what he planned. What happened was a completely different story.
“Osamu-san! I'll be in your care today!”
No, please no. Were his feelings so despicable that the heavens needed to rub it into his face that (y/n) could never become his?
Osamu merely forced a smile on his face before walking out of the gym. Horrendous. The day couldn't have gone worse. Knowing Atsumu, he'd probably make him cook a snack for them. The last thing he wanted was to see them make themselves comfortable in their home . Their home—which was supposed to be his place of comfort.
“‘Samu, get down here! Cook us something!”
“Why don't ya try cooking for once, ya piece of shit!”
Who cares if (y/n) heard him? She probably didn't even give a fuck about him. All Osamu could do was get another piece of paper, furiously writing the pent up feelings he had.
It was during these five months that he realized how much of a precious companion paper was. Paper didn’t judge him—it neither ridiculed his feelings nor told him to stop.
Dear (y/n),
What will it take for me to stop loving you? Do I have to move to another town, maybe another country? For sure, that shithead Atsumu would still haunt me. I've long accepted the fact that we won't be separated, even by death. Still, watching the two of you kills me. It's as if I'm reminded that I shouldn't get too close because I know that in the end, you'd still choose him.
Now, he's calling me downstairs and all I want to do is punch him in hopes that suddenly, he can cook for the two of you.
When you told me you couldn't cook, all I wanted to do was make you a meal everyday. Then maybe you'd smile at me the same way you do with Atsumu.
I know that I love you. It's just that I can't stop.
(y/f/n), maybe in another universe, we'd be together.
Truly Yours,
Miya Osamu
The rapping on the door brought Osamu back to reality. He leant back on his swivel chair. He had enough. The least his brother could do for (y/n) was buy her some snacks from the nearest convenience store.
“Jerkface, can't ya fucking—”
As soon as the door opened to reveal (y/n), Osamu was rendered at a loss for words. He gestured for her to enter the room, flabbergasted by her unannounced presence.
“Osamu-san, did I do something wrong?” (y/n) fiddled with her fingers, her expression showing nothing but concern. “‘Tsumu left and told me to talk to you.”
Atsumu did? Was he trying to avoid talking to him by sending (y/n)? What a fucking coward—
“—Studying hard?”
It was then that Osamu felt his heart falling into the pit of his stomach. (y/n) pouted at him before continuing to speak. She held his latest letter in her hands, her eyes averting from the words he had written to his surprised expression.
“‘Tsumu wasn’t being very discreet about it.”
Did his crush just tell him she knew about his feelings? More importantly, did his brother know all along? That he liked the same girl as him? Osamu gulped, completely taken aback by the whole situation.
Atsumu knew, yet never told him anything about it?
“‘Samu.”
What a time to finally utter his name without any honorifics. (y/n) stared straight into his eyes with clenched fists. Specks of crimson littered her cheeks as she opened her mouth to say:
“‘Samu, I've always liked you.”
‘Samu? not ‘Tsumu? Osamu blinked once. Twice. Were his ears playing tricks on him now? Was he that desperate to have his feelings reciprocated? When he didn’t make any attempts in answering, (y/n) narrowed her eyes at him.
“You like me too, right?”
The doubt in her eyes was enough to spring osamu to his feet. He wrapped his arms around (y/n), pulling her to his chest. This was real. everything was real. Even as tears stung his eyes, he couldn’t help but think that his room seemed more colorful than before.
“Of course I like ya too, (n/n).”
The next hour was spent on the twins’ bunk bed. Anxiety bubbled in his stomach while watching the girl of his dreams read his love letters, including the ones he wrote earlier. Her expression constantly changed from shock to embarrassment to happiness and to sadness. Seeing her moved by his honest thoughts was absolutely endearing.
“‘Samu, I never knew you felt this way.” (y/n) leant back against the wall. “To be completely honest, I had only known of your feelings recently.”
Osamu blinked. it had been five months, though. Maybe it was the same with Atsumu?
“Anyway, I think you and ‘Tsumu need to talk.”
The feeling of (y/n)’s warm hand on top of his own was enough to dissolve Osamu’s remaining doubts. He nodded his head and wasted no time in standing up from his bed.
“I’ll make ya a meal the next time ya come here, okay?” The smile that formed on (y/n)’s face reflected his own. “For now, I think I’ll have to send ya home because it’s getting late.”
“Sure, uh, are you my boyfriend now?”
Osamu stopped in the middle of turning the doorknob. “Of course, duh.” In spite of his reply, the smile on his face only grew wider.
“...How long did ya know?”
Atsumu scratched the back of his neck, eyes landing on everywhere but Osamu. Osamu could only heave a sigh. This kind of hesitation meant that he did something wrong.
“Ya read them, didn’t ya?”
“Oh come on, ya should’ve expected this. I mean, it was an accident of course. Ya left yer love letters on my desk, dumbass.” Oh gosh. Osamu could only rest his forehead on the palm of his hand. “Stupid, right?”
“I thought ya liked (n/n).”
Atsumu raised an eyebrow at him. “I did, but she rejected me.” He shook his head. “Told me she liked ya and of course, I already knew that. Ya weren’t the only one writing love letters.”
Once again, Osamu couldn’t think of a response. In one way or another, Atsumu took offense from this and stood up from his seat.
“I'm heading off to Suna’s house, I better not be seeing yer love letters on my desk anymore, got it?”
“Sure, just make sure not to get on Suna’s nerves, ya idiot.”
As soon as the sound of their gate being opened resounded throughout the house, Osamu let out a sigh. Thankfully, Atsumu didn’t mention anything about his attitude earlier. If he did, he’d have no choice but to say sorry.
Fate really was cruel. He had to suffer for five months, feeling jealous almost every single day. On the other hand, Atsumu had to bear the thin line between a friend and a lover.
Beep.
Osamu opened his phone, only to see a message from (y/n). This caused Atsumu’s words to repeat in his mind.
“Ya weren’t the only one writing love letters.”
Dear Osamu,
Today, I finally confessed to you. It took me five months and another confession to tell you my feelings. Nevertheless, I’m glad that I managed to do so. It’s too soon for me to consider myself the luckiest girl alive, but I’m more than sure that I’m the luckiest girl today.
I’ll send you my love letters another time. It was nice reading yours, though.
Truly yours,
(y/f/n)
Truly yours. The words had never seemed so captivating.