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When he'd watched Inarizaki’s match against Karasuno, Aran had suspected something was wrong. The twins’ usual antics during a match were missing, no jabs towards Osamu’s play style from Atsumu, no Suna and Osamu ganging up on Atsumu, in fact, no interaction with Osamu at all. There's no light in Osamu’s eyes, not a spark.
So when he spots Osamu after the match, he tries to keep up a happy facade, an encouraging smile for his friend. But as Osamu crumbles right in front of his eyes, with the most broken expression Aran’s ever seen on him; his plans have been thrown right out of the window.
He wants to be angry, he really does. But they're teenagers, Atsumu tried his best to deal with an unknown situation, as did the rest of them. Aran needs to be the adult in this situation, because the rest of them can't be. The best he can do right now is comfort Osamu while he's here.
The blank, lifeless expression worries him. Even at the mention of getting food, Osamu doesn't perk up. He trails behind Aran in the store, shoes squeaking at every trudging step he takes, seeming not to notice his feet dragging across the ground. Is this how he's been for months? Has no one even tried to help him? To even talk to him?
Thinking about it makes the more unreasonable part of Aran want to punch something, the logical side stays in control. The logical side of his brain lets Osamu pick out junk food to spend the night eating, and lets him pick out expensive movies to watch on the hotel’s television.
Osamu only speaks again when they're towards the end of the first movie. His phone blows up with phone calls and texts from Atsumu, and in retrospect, Aran should have told him where his brother was. “What do you want?” Osamu snaps, his voice hoarse from misuse.
It shocks Aran, really. Even when Osamu has had his bursts of anger before, there has still always been an underlying hint of brotherly affection. He's never heard Osamu’s voice sound so poisonous, a mix of unbridled fury and hurt.
Atsumu's voice buzzes out through the phone, the sound of worry that is almost unrecognisable coming from Atsumu. Before Osamu has the chance to say something bad, Aran steals the phone and holds it up against his ear. “Tsumu, hey.”
“Aran-kun! What’re ya doin’ with Samu?” Atsumu’s tone has a desperate pitch to it, one similar to his own when he first met the twins and they got up to their trouble. “Where's Samu? I haven't seen him since the match.”
“Don't worry about Samu, I'll bring him back in the morning.” He gives Atsumu a few more reassuring words, the whole while Osamu watches him blankly.
The most he gets from Osamu is a quiet thank you when he hands the phone back. His ice cream has been abandoned on the bedside table, half eaten and melting while he burrows into the bed covers. It breaks Aran’s heart to see it, one of the most headstrong people he knows reduced to a helpless kid.
When people think of the Miya twins, their first thought is usually Atsumu who has the strong opinions and emotions out of the two of them. While they aren't exactly wrong, they aren't right either. Osamu is exactly the same as his twin. He's just more cautious about who he tells his opinions to, about who he befriends.
Which is exactly why Suna not speaking to him has affected him so badly.
“Come here,” Aran says, lifting up his arm to make room for Osamu. “Don't give me that look, I remember you and Atsumu fighting over who got to hold my hand in middle school.”
It gets a reaction from him, a faint flush heating up his cheeks as he scooches closer and leans into Aran’s chest. “Don't remind me please.” He mumbles, his words muffled into soft cotton.
“The amount of dirt I have on you,” he chuckles, pulling an exasperated groan from Osamu. “Like that one time two years ago when ya stole those shopping carts, and you appeared at my door in the middle of the night.” The grip Osamu has on his abdomen tightens, there’s a barely-there snort that makes Aran smile.
As long as Osamu is happy, he's happy. Ever since he met Atsumu and Osamu, it's like having three little brothers instead of one. Sure, they drive him insane, but he loves the pair of them no matter what they may have done.
Humming quietly, he lets the conversation taper off as the movie ends and they move onto the next one. And it's definitely not one made for entertainment. “I know yer not into horror movies, Samu. This one is definitely targeted at me.”
“Obviously,” Osamu snarks, sitting up like he's prepared to dodge whatever comes his way, “I know ya hate horror movies, ya shit yerself at the slightest jumpscares.”
“You little brat!” Aran lunges at him with no mercy, catching Osamu in a headlock and grinding his knuckles into his head. Osamu puts up a good fight, but intense training as a professional athlete has made Aran even stronger. He doesn't hesitate to flip Osamu over his shoulder so he faceplants into the mattress.
They might get a complaint in the morning for the disruptions, but it's worth it when Osamu is hiding his laughter in a pillow and there's a grin on his face for the first time that day.
For the rest of the night, they watch movies, Aran tells Osamu about how the V-League is, and Osamu tells Aran about the different culinary schools he's looked at so far. Some time in the early morning they pass out, for once the younger’s expression being one of ease as he sleeps.
When Osamu needs to leave a couple of days later, Aran makes sure to accompany him to the train station. He messes up his hair, wishes him a good one while Osamu grumbles about being too old to have his hair ruffled.
“You’ll always be like my little brother in my eyes,” he wraps his arms around Osamu, afraid to let him go, to send him back to a place that has caused him so much heartache. “Just know that when it gets rough, you can call me at anytime, I'll even ditch a game if I need to.”
“Yeah, okay,” Osamu's grip stays tight on his sleeve, like he's also afraid to let go. There is a faint smile though, one that reassures him that Osamu won't hesitate to call him when he needs to.
Before he steps onto the train, he shuffles his feet, hands fidgeting with his bag. "Thank you, for well, not treating me any differently."
Aran keeps up the brave face until Osamu's train is long gone, and it isn't until he gets home himself does he let the situation fully sink in. He vows that no matter what, he won't let anything happen to Osamu again.