Chapter Text
Volleyball.
That’s the reason he’s here.
Volleyball is life, as Hinata and Bokuto like to yell.
Volleyball also happens to be the reason that he’s about to be burned into a crisp, throat closing in, eyes stinging, coughs ripping out of his mouth and through the gaps of his fingers as he stumbles out of the hotel room bed, trying to breathe and see through the haze of smoke, somehow managing to stuff his feet into a pair of slippers. .
They were in Hiroshima after a visiting game against the EJP Raijin. The team had recently gotten a new member, a Sawamura Daichi, which had gotten Hinata and Bokuto very excited for some reason upon hearing the name. Atsumu had frowned then, not knowing why the name sounded a little familiar, the threads of a memory, of remembrance, just out of reach in his mind, like a word carefully balanced on the tip of one’s tongue, only to be lost to the depths of time.
Of course, after the announcement and his teammates being unnaturally excited about an opposition team’s newest member, he had to go and look up this “Daichi-san”. Maybe he was like this Oikawa he heard about from Hinata when regaling his tales of Brazil, he had thought with disgust. Another setter who wasn’t good enough for Japan so they decided to take their mediocre skill to another country, leaving friends and family and their nation behind just for the sake of pride.
Sawamura Daichi. Opposite hitter. Former policeman , he thought, amused. Officer Sawamura- he could use that potentially rile the man up on the court. He wasn’t that old, only a year older than himself. He scrolls through the small bio the Raijin have on their new member. Born on the last day of December, quite fond of food, was captain of his high school volleyball team-
Captain.
That captain.
Now Atsumu remembered him. No wonder Hinata had been so excited. He’d have to ask how Bokuto knows him though.
Sawamura Daichi, captain of the misfit murder of Karasuno crows. He was one of the shorter players on his team, really good at defense. And it’s not like the Raijin needed more good defensive players. They got Suna, they got Motoya, they got Fukurodani’s Washio. Now they’ve got goddamn Sawamura Daichi, the captain who couldn’t stay on the sidelines but still manages to be an awesome defensive and offensive player. Don’t forget he won Kita-san’s respect , his mind had told him, bringing up old memories.
Plain and simple, he had thought back then. He hadn’t been on the same level as Tobio-kun, but apparently he was no longer plain and simple. He got on a Division 1 team after being a police officer! He doubted the governments dogs had much time to do trivial things like play volleyball. He wondered why the man had decided to play volleyball again rather than continue as an officer. Perhaps he became corrupt? Accepted bribes? Was bad at it? He had schemed a multitude of possibilities about the man, asking Sakusa what he thought of some of them. The other simply wrinkled his nose behind his mask and told him, he quote: “Get away from me.”
And then the game itself had happened.
Before it had started, Bokuto and Hinata had rushed off to a breakfast meet with Sawamura. They came back happier than they had been when they left. This had, for some reason, annoyed Atsumu. He’d frowned at the image he had pulled up of Sawamura on one of his phone’s tabs.
In person, Sawamura was much different.
He was shorter than Atsumu, somewhere between his and Hinata’s height. His hair wasn’t as long as it was in the photo, cropped to the length Atsumu had remembered from his loss at Nationals in his second year. His face looked ageless, the same it had been years ago, with large brown eyes, mature but soft looking face. He resembles a baby cow was the best insult Atsumu had come up with while looking at the man from across the net. Nice thighs ( no ), developed muscles probably from his previous job.
Baby cow , he reminded himself, and tried to put as much spite as he could into the thought. He’s a baby cow and a corrupt ex-officer .
The Black Jackals lost their third game of the season; The EJP Raijin won. Sawamura, it had turned out, was no longer a plain and simple player anymore- it was clear that even without professional aid, he had somehow improved enough to hop onto a Division 1 team. And throughout the whole match, where Washio and Suna had always looked serious, Sawamura was like Motoya: excitement clearly sparkling in their eyes, a quick grin appearing when needed, hyping up his teammates just with a few words. It was funny that Sawamura was shorter than his teams libero. It wasn’t funny that he managed to spike a few balls past Atsumu’s own larger, more skilled hands.
This man irritated him.
Which brings him back to the present. The hotel he is in is burning . He hears his phone rining through the cackling of the fire and wood. He follows the noise because he can’t even see the door with the ash and smoke and whatever else fire creates when it’s burning a hotel down. How’s he supposed to know what to do in a burning building? Look it up on his phone!? Well, excuse him, but he’s going to his phone right now and he wants to waste his time finding it and getting the hell out of here instead of looking up what to do in a burning building.
“Wh-who is it?” He manages.
“Tsumu, you dumbass!” Osamu’s voice comes from the other end. “Yer out of the hotel, right? Where are yah?”
“Aha, funny story-” Atsumu starts before he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. He hears his brother call his voice out again. “Shut yer trap, Samu. I’m still kickin’.”
“What the hell are ya doin’ in there still? I know yer a deep sleeper, but not enough to sleep through a fire!”
“Well, excuse me” Atsumu scoffs, stumbling to the door. He has enough sense to cover his hand with the bottom part of his night shirt before touching the lock and the doorknob. Even then, he barely can because of how hot the fire has become. How long has he been in here? The fear truly hits him when he opens the door and instead of a few licks of fire and a hell lot of smoke, the whole hallway has turned red and blavk with the glow of fire and the sheer amount of smoke. He gasps and flinches away from a sudden flare of flame.
“ATSUMU” Osamu yells.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Atsumu yells back, eyes watering, fighting against the want to just squeeze them shut. There’s debris in the hallway: pieces of ceiling, open doors, doors on the ground from the heat melting the hinges or at least the screws. “Where’s everyone else?”
“The rest of yer team’s already here” Osamu says. “Now get yerself out. What floor are yah on?”
“Three” he replies, letting out a yelp when he feels his ankle burning, kicking with his other foot to brush away the small lick of flame that decided to cling to him. Now to keep his slippers from burning and frying his feet... “Are yah seriously? My luck’s that bad ?” He tries to lighten the mood because he really isn’t in the mood of thinking of or participating in the action of death, thank you very much but no.
The fire is everywhere. Red here, red there. With horror, he trips over a body, eyes widening with horror when he sees that it’s a woman, half trapped under a door, body badly burnt and still burning. She isn’t moving or making a sound.
She’s dead. Just like him if he doesn’t make it out.
The smoke stings his lungs, his throat. He’s always disliked smoking but he now swears to never touch a cigarette. Licks of fire reach out for his skin, blisters tracing themselves across his skin, trying to lur him in with the same promise they gave to that woman. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. This is worse than a sauna. No more saunas too. Saunas and cigarettes and dead bodies- what else does he need to add to his no-no list?
“Go to the stairs” Osamu tells him.
“I know ” Atsumu says, gritting his teeth. His legs are starting to feel a bit weak and he almost pisses himself when a flaming something drops from the ceiling and it’s only thanks to his left arm coming up at just the right moment that his head and hair doesn’t become a burning crisp. But the skin of his arm does get pretty badly burnt, so that’s not goof.
Tight when Atsumu thinks he’s made it to the stairs, to freedom and safety , he turns only to come face to face not with the two plush chairs stationed in front of the elevator and doorway to the stairs, right next to the little niche for a vending machine, but instead a window, the left and right having two doors, both of them open but not burned. The fire hadn’t reached there yet, miraculously. But a look around confirms it’s going to make it soon.
The numbers on the wall next to both of the doors label them as numbers larger than his own door. He had a fifty-fifty chance and he went and screwed that up too.
“Are yah kidding me?” He nearly cries.
“Why? What?” Osamu demand. He can also hear others talking and Osamu yelling at them to shut up before talking into the phone again. “What happened?”
“I walked the wrong way” Atsumu says, voice wavering, fighting to keep the coughing fit from coming and scaring his brother even more. He may be an asshole but he’s not that big of an asshole. “The stupid staircase, it’s in the other direction.” Osamu is quiet for a full five seconds on the other end. Atsumu would of thought, if not for Hinata’s high-pitched yelling. “Samu?”
“YOU IDIOT!” Osamu yells and Atsumu thinks that he heard a sob in that too. He’s sure he heard a voice crack. It would be embarrassing in any other situation but Osamu is his twin, and Atsumu is his. They share the same DNA. They share the same blood. At one time, they were mirrors of each other, sharing the same interests, sharing the same hopes, sharing the same dreams. He loves his brother more than he loves his own parents, more than he loves volleyball, he also admits. “Wait- what are yah saying?” Osamu asks someone else. “O-okay. Tsumu, yer at the end of the hall, yah said? What’s the room on yer left?”
“322” He answers. “Doors open too. There ain’t any fire yet too, lucky bastards.”
“Go inside n’ soak yerself in water. If yer burnt anywhere, wet a cloth and put it on. Accordin’ to Sunarin, there’s someone with rescue experience who’s on the third floor. Yer the last one there. He’s gonna save yah.”
“Oh, I’m getting a hero?” Atsumu manages to say between coughs, no longer able to hold back the fit that fought to be released. He doubled over as he entered the room. Even the fire hadn’t come here, the smoke had long since started to make residence. The white carpet has a growing tint of grey in it, flecks of ash floating through the air like discolored flecks of dust caught in the sunlight.
“I’m going to be in the shower” Atsumu jokingly says, taking in his surroundings. His lips twists down. All personal belongings of whoever had been here are gone. So they had the time to pack and scram but not enough to bang on his door? Great. “Probably gonna have ta hang up now.”
“Tsumu-”
“Samu, Imma get rescued by a hopefully hot and strong guy.” The room is starting to spin as he walks to the bathroom, keeping his hand on the wall. He turns on the shower and puts it on the coldest setting. Even then the water is warm. “Who gets the chance? Ever read those shojos with the cute girl gettin’ rescued by the muscly firefighter? Well, that’s gonna be me.”
“Don’t ya dare try jokin’ ‘bout this, don’t” Osamu hisses. “There’s a guy riskin’ his ass to get to yers out there, and I might be listenin’ to yah both dying.”
“And that’s why Imma hang up. Yer welcome. I love yah, Samu.” And he hangs up. His heart is beating way faster than it was before and goddammit he’s scared.
He finds only one towel- such a cheap hotel- and looks at it longingly, wanting so badly to stretch it out and cover all of his skin with it. The burn on his arm, though, it itches and burns and gods it hurts a lot. He takes a hopeful peek out the door to see if his saviour has arrived. His head is pounding and his breathing is a bit ragged. He sets his phone on the countertop. He ignores the call from Osamu.
Stepping under the shower, he savors the feel of it. It soaks the towel he’s laid across the large burn on his arm, not wanting to look at the discolored skin. The water soothes his whole body and he can’t help but shiver from pleasure. It can also pass as trembling because of how much he’s trembling.
He stays under the shower for what he thinks is a good three minutes, clothing plastered to his body, not moving an inch out of fear that his charred cloth slippers will make him slip and kill him from hitting his head rather than burning. He keeps himself busy by imagining his savior. He hopes he’s young. Osamu’s words were than Suna told him and Suna said it was a guy with experience. So an ex-firefighter? He’s not picky, but he had hopes that it would be a nice young strapping man rescuing him at what he learned was only eleven PM according to the time on his phone when Samu called the second time.
Firefighter-chan better come quickly he thinks as he slides down the wall. He can barely see any smoke in the bathroom, although it’s grown since he’s been in here. Maybe he should of turned the bathroom vent on. Yeah...maybe...It would of kept the smoke out. He feels so close to choking, taking in heaving breathes. Everything sort of hurts. He squeezes his eyes shut, leaning his head back against the tile. It’s not cold anymore- it’s warm. Even the water has grown hotter. The pipes his mind supplies the water ain’t heatin’ up on its own- it’s the damned pipes.
“Miya-san, can you stand?”
Atsumu’s heart thumps at the- thank gods- young voice. He’s going to take this man out on a date if they both make it out alive. Then his eyes open.
Oh hell no .
Sawamura Daichi stands there, still in his EJP Raijin uniform, as if he fell asleep in them. Atsumu hadn’t realized he had passed out but there’s a lot of smoke now, almost as much as there had been in his room when he woke up, the water coming out of the shower now at the temperature he would have it at after a grueling long day at practice, muscles begging for a relaxant.
Stupid crow captain with those big cute eyes- he really does look hot. Rescue experience . Oh right- he was an officer. Has he ran into burning buildings before?
Sawamura steps into the shower and Atsumu realizes he never answered. Sawamura takes his team jacket draped over an arm, soaks it quickly in the water, then wraps it around Atsumu. If he were to wear it, it would probably be tight on him due to Sawamura being smaller even with his muscles, but it feels kinda nice now- and oh oh he’s being carried. Blood pools in his cheeks.
“Sa-sawamura-kun” he stutters, both out of embarrassment and because he doesn’t have enough air. He notices rather bad looking burn on Sawamura’s jaw. His face is red from the heat and exertion of rescuing other people, his mouth slightly open as he pants for air. His teeth are naturally straight and unbleached white, the start of a gap at the left corner of his mouth hinting at a large gap between his teeth or a missing tooth. A few strands of short hair manage to plaster to his forehead, another burn marking itself on his neck. He’s been rescuin’ people his mind supplies again. Of course he’s going to get hurt. And yet, here Atsumu is, being carried like a goddamn princess when it should maybe be the other way around.
“Stop carryin’ me, I can walk” he says. It’s thanks to his long limbs that he manages to slither out of the shorter man’s arms, hooking his arm through the other’s. “Yer hurt too- gods know how many burn you’ve got.” His eyes act on their own, quickly taking in the other man’s condition, not really being able to before he had been lifted off the ground. Burned cloth on his shoulder, a burn on his leg at the same spot as Atsumu’s, shorts charred at the right and holes near the hem of the jersey, skin flashing.
“I’ll be fine” Sawamura says. “I’ve had worst.”
“Like what?”
“Bullet to the thigh” he says, leading Atsumu out of the bathroom. Atsumu almost immediately breaks into a series of coughs. “Lift your t-shirt to cover your mouth- it’ll keep some of the smoke out” Sawamura orders, quickly tugging Atsumu’s arm right as they exit the doorway, saving him from the fiery door-death that the corpse he had found before got. It causes him to stumble into Sawamura but the elder is quick to get them moving again. He internally cheers when two doors down Sawamura breaks into a series of coughs. They sound worst than Atsumu’s. That makes him feel guilty.
Sawamura might of been his enemy every time he ran into him, but right now, for the first time, when both of them can suddenly die because of a conveniently places falling piece of ceiling, he rethinks the former captain. Here this man exists, for some reason, on this earth, born in the same time period as Atsumu and in the same generation. He was in his jersey still, so he had probably been out with the EJP Raijin celebrating their victory. And when he heard or saw the hotel the Jackals are staying in burning, he hadn’t just watched and waited. No, he went in and rescued anyone he could, regardless of who they are. And he somehow climbed the probably hellish three floors to get to him. And all Atsumu had done since he learned about the man was spite him out of jealousy.
Atsumu pulls his t-shirt up to cover his mouth. Even with his whole body being soaked, he can feel the water drying already. He carefully keeps the towel balanced on his left arm. If another block of whatever decides that it wants to try and cudgel him or Sawamura, he’d going to be ready.
They make it to the stairwell with relatively little trouble. Sawamura somehow knows where to step, tugging at Atsumu to keep him from tripping or getting showered by a bursting lightbulb or a shower of ash.
The doorway is conveniently open- Sawamura his smoke-filled mind coughs at him- and now Atsumu takes initiative. Instead of having his sleeve dripped by Sawamura, he clamps his right hand around the opposite hitter’s bicep. His fingers probably only make it a little over halfway around. Any other situation he’d probably make a flirty joke. If Sawamura, for some reason had been the one gripping his arm in a normal situation, he probably would of insulted everything about the man, ranging from his ordinary hair and ordinary playing style and ordinary big brown eyes- okay, he doesn’t know what is up with those eyes, but they just- dammit, focus on the situation at hand, ‘Tsumu.
A brush of his fingers against the railing confirms that it’s heartened up. The fire hasn’t reached up here but a look below blesses his eyes with a sea of flickering red and orange. He takes the towel off his arm, wrapping his hand in it before gripping the rail.
“I can walk on my own” Sawamura says.
“You can walk, but ya can also fall” Atsumu retorts. “I ain’t gonna’ have ya die on me after fainting from gods know how much smoke inhalation. And Sunarin and Hinata would be pretty mad at me for killin’ ya off.” He leads them down the stairs, the heat starting to grow even more.
“I don’t think Hinata would be that angry” Sawamura rasps. “Sad, yes, but I can count the times I’ve seen him angry on one hand.” Atsumu sends him a worried glance.
“Haven’t ya heard of takin’ it easy? I don’t think you should be talking.”
“I”ll be fine. We’re only a few minutes away from the ambulance.”
“Why hasn’t the fire department come yet!?” Atsumu exclaims.
“Traffic and the fire started from the gas station next door blowing up” Sawamura manages to answer before breaking into a fit of coughs. Atsumu’s grip tightens on the man’s bicep. He breathes a sigh of relief when they make it to floor two. He kicks the open door, which greets them with hellish sight of what can basically be called an ingerono close so no stray fireballs start shooting at them before leading them to the last flight of stairs. He swallows. It’s so much hotter now. His skin feels like it’s blistering and he’s not even at the fire yet!
“How did you make it up here” Atsumu thinks out loud.
“You run” Sawamura answers. “Also, the bottom is tile. Stay away from the walls and you won’t get burned. The lobby is the worst.” Atsumu nods. After this, he can basically consider himself a certified fireman.
They finally make it onto the first floor. There’s a dead body spread across the ground, body burning, a pool of blood around them, limbs twisted wrongly. They must of caught fire and then thrown themself Atsumu thinks. Dead body number two .
“Come on” Sawamura says. Atsumu hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the body for that long. “Or else you’ll end up like him.” Atumu nods, shaking himself out of the trance. The walk to the open lobby door and Atsumu is greeted by fire eagerly reaching out to him.
“Oh hell no” he cries. “What is this!? Mura-kun, I apologize, but there is no way -” he pauses when he sees Sawamura pry his fingers off his bicep before walking behind the open door, taking off his jersey.
There’s more muscle underneath...NO! You are both going to burn to death. Stop it. Remember? Enemy But also saviour). Atsumu adjusts the jacket around his shoulders. The water he had soaked himself with it is just about all gone, clothing gone stiff and towel having dried and stiffened in the shape of his hand.
“There’s a water fountain” Sawamura says before breaking into a horrible coughing fit. Atsumu rushes over, patting the guy on the back, not knowing what else to do, even though he’s pretty sure it won’t help out with smoke inhalation. “S-soak your clothes and yourself. I-It’ll help.” And then Sawamura falls to the floor, eyelids closed but eyes still fluttering behind them.
“Hey- Sawamura!” Atsumu just fast enough to keep the man from bonking his head on the ground. “Mura-kun, ya can’t just faint on me like that! Yer supposed to be my hot firefighter rescueman!” Sawamura doesn’t answer except for a series of coughs that wouldn’t stop. The sound gets Atsumu going. He coughs into his elbow out of instinct, eyes darting over the man and then the water fountain. Atsumu worriedly looks at the fire and then down at Sawamura. He retrieves the soaked jersey and manages to put it on Sawamura. Then he soaks the jacket, happy that the water isn’t that hot, only a bit warm. He also curses the water fountain for being too slow. He sits Sawamura up and puts the jacket on him before soaking the towel and draping it over the unconscious man’s head. He’s probably overheated and choking on the stuff in his lungs.
He’s so going to regret this later.
Atsumu takes off his own t-shirt, soaking it and wringing it out to also get Sawamura’s lower body as wet as he could. Releivingly, his imagination doesn’t take flight. Then he picks Sawamura up kind of the same way Sawamura had tried to carry him, angeling him so that his head rests on Atsumu’s shoulder, weak coughs still continuing to wrack through the man’s body. He makes sure that the towel is balanced, making sure that the man fits in the space of Atsumu’s body and doesn’t have limbs sticking out and being a fire hazard (haha- how not funny). Then he looks at the inferno, makes sure that his arms are properly wrapped around Sawamura: an arm below the thigh with his hand resting on bare skin to try and protect it, other hand across the back of his head to keep the towel in place and as an extra layer of protection.
“How did he make it? Running. Okay. Alright. I got this” Atsumu says to himself, hunching over a little bit and taking in a large breath of air. Right when his lungs fill with smoke flavored oxygen goodness, he runs through the roaring fire.
Gods, it’s hot .
He doesn’t know left or right anymore (at least he knows up to down). His ears seek out the sounds of sirens. The fire chases after him, forcing him to ditch his slippers when they decide to catch on fire. All the hotels I’m stayin’ in from now on are gonna have a tiled lobby. He shoulder rams into a falling decorative wooden support beam, twisting to keep Sawamura from getting hit, ignoring the urge to drop the man in favor of trying to pat out the fire that has taken residence on his left shoulder (at least it’s the left one).
“HEY! I SEE SOMEONE! MIYA-SAN, I SEE SOMEONE!” He hears a familiar too-young-for-his-age sounding voice. Atsumu hurries, lungs finally running out of air, forcing him to breathe in even smokier air. He feels bad for Sawamura though- the thought of the opposite hitter gets him running even faster, keeping his feet off the ground long enough to not really burn but not really stay untouched.
Regular air is too cold is one of the first thoughts that hit him upon stepping past broken glass and through a window after cutting his feet on the shards. He keeps his arms wrapped around Sawamura but allows himself to break into couches. He feels someone take the unconscious man out of his grip and he’s pushed onto something that’s flat and barely soft. Something is put over his mouth and suddenly he can kind of breathe. If only he’d stop coughing...he suddenly feels like he’s moving and when he opens his eyes, everything seems sort of blurry. A hand holds his and he turns his head, making out a head of dark brown and eyes identical to his own.
“Samu” he manages to rest.
“You’re gonna be alright, ya got it, you brat?” Samu is saying. “Yer gonna’ make it.” Atsumu lets out a small chuckle.
“ ‘Course I am.” A few meters behind Osamu, a single part of the background becomes clear to him: a body on a stretcher being quickly loaded in, a flash of orange hair that can’t be anyone other than Hinata follow after. Sawamura’s face is streaked with black soot, burns littered over his body of various sizes.
But he’s still coughing. He’s alive.
Atsumu doesn’t know why he feels so relieved at this and his eyes flutter shut.