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Hinata finds it strange how obsessed Atsumu has become with his own posters.
The setter has always been big on image, one of the reasons he nearly throttled Bokuto for posting an ugly “caught-off-guard” photo of him on the team Instagram, but Hinata’s never seen him so focused on something other than volleyball. It seems like Atsumu is always standing in front of the massive player posters that venues hang up before their games, scrutinizing his own for anything amiss. They all look mostly the same every time, and Hinata can’t really tell what’s different in Atsumu’s besides a slight shift in his arm or leg positioning.
“What’s going on?” Hinata asks curiously, sneaking up behind the setter. Atsumu flinches like he’s been caught in an illegal act. “Did they spell your name wrong or something?”
He squints at the print on the poster, proudly displaying Miya Atsumu in bold font, confirming that it is indeed spelled correctly. It’s a good picture, Hinata thinks; Atsumu looks defiant, blonde hair striking against the black background.
Atsumu doesn’t answer Hinata’s question, instead offering one of his own. “Shoyo, can ya see anythin’ wrong with this photo?”
“Uh…” Hinata hesitates, hands settling on his hips as he cranes his neck up. Is this a trick question? He studies the poster for a few more seconds before replying. “No, I don’t think so.”
Of course Atsumu would want me to say no. He wouldn’t want his poster to look bad.
It comes as a shock when Atsumu lets out a disappointed sigh, shaking his head dejectedly. “I know, right?” he mutters to himself. “I’ll find somethin’.”
He walks off without another word then, leaving Hinata stunned and totally alone.
Hinata forgets about the event quickly after that, too overloaded with practices and other team-related things. The real reason behind Atsumu’s strange behavior only occurs to him one day after practice, when they’re changing in the locker room before heading home. As usual, Bokuto had suggested a team outing for “bonding purposes”, but shockingly, Atsumu was quick to reject.
“Can’t. Gotta get my poster photo retaken.” he says, pulling on his shirt. Hinata glances at him in surprise and barely catches a lingering smile on the blonde’s face before it disappears under the dark fabric.
“What? You’ve gotten that photo retaken like 8 times already!” Bokuto whines, packing up his duffel bag. He zips it up loudly before heaving it over his shoulder. “I swear it’s not that ugly-”
“Whaddya mean that ugly?!”
Hinata frowns as he stares at the mirror in his locker, trying to ignore the bickering behind him. He can clearly tell something is going on, but there’s too many details missing for him to figure out what it really is.
Going to get his photo retaken...over and over. Looking for something wrong with the poster.
It seems he isn’t the only one who notices Atsumu’s strange behavior, because Sakusa’s eyes narrow the way they do when he’s thinking hard, shadowed under the curl of his hair.
Hinata focuses harder, ignoring Atsumu’s yelling and Bokuto’s defense.
Going to get his photo retaken. Over and over. For the poster. Seeing the photographer-
An excited squeak rips from his throat, much to the surprise of everyone else in the room as he shoves an accusing finger in Atsumu’s direction.
“The photographer!” he declares proudly. A deep red immediately rushes onto Atsumu’s face, crawling up his neck and snaking to the tips of his ears. Bokuto is quiet for a second, silently mouthing ‘photographer?’ to himself before he brightens.
“Tsumu’s got a CRUSH?” he bellows gleefully, and the blonde setter slaps a hand over his friend’s mouth to silence his loud laughter. He’s not fast enough, though, and Bokuto’s giggling echoes throughout the room before he shoves him away.
“Yer crazy! I don’t!” Atsumu defends, aggressively shoving clothes into his bag (as if it helps his case). Hinata and Bokuto are ragging him, wiggling their eyebrows and tossing teasing remarks at his hunched form. Even Sakusa seems to chuckle, based on the short jolt of his shoulders as he makes his way out of the locker room.
“She’s cute, good pick! She made my photos look great too!” Bokuto concludes, ruffling Atsumu’s hair. The setter growls in frustration, smacking Bokuto’s hand away with a scowl.
“Quit it! I’m gettin’ outta here.”
With that, he drags his bag behind him, swiftly making his exit from the locker room.
“Get a goooood photo!” Bokuto hollers, followed by Hinata’s laughter, and then there’s the distinct sound of a high-five being exchanged between the two. Atsumu groans, clenching his jaw and attempting to wash away the shame of what has just occurred. He hates playing right into his teammates’ hands, but he can’t seem to stop the way his feet move on their own.
Quietly, he makes his way toward the only place he knows where to find you.
“I’m starting to think you’re just coming to see me.”
Atsumu had waltzed into the studio right before you started packing up, and since you’d already sent most of your helpers home, it was just you and him. You didn’t have to ask what he was there for; he’d come in plenty of times to fix his poster photo, and you never denied him another reshoot.
It was odd at first. He’d come in once and seemed to enjoy it, and suddenly he was there every week with a new request. A new pose, a different lighting, a prop that he thinks will “get the fans going”. With every added visit, though, it seemed like the photos themselves mattered less and less than him.
He knows the studio like the back of his hand now, helping you set up the ring light and sitting precisely in the correct spot, facing the camera. The setup is quick, but the shoot itself always takes a little longer with him (not that you mind).
“You’re more prepared today. What, don’t want me to catch your bad side?” you tease, fiddling with the settings on your camera. Atsumu chuckles, striking a ridiculous pose in preparation for the impending photo.
“Don’t have one.” he replies, a confident smirk on his lips.
You snort, shaking your head and urging him to sit up straight with a short gesture. “Chin up then, and we’ll see about that.”
Preparing to take the photo, you mumble something that becomes inaudible from your position behind the camera, and Atsumu leans forward with furrowed brows in an attempt to hear you better.
“What’s that?” he asks.
You shift so your face is fully in his view. “Your hair,” you inform, “it’s out of place.”
Atsumu’s eyes roll up, trying to catch sight of the stray blonde on his forehead. He purses his lips, blowing a few strands out of the way cutely before looking back at you. “Why don’t ya come fix it for me then?”
It’s clear what he’s trying to do, his flirtatious tone only emphasized by his teasing grin, but you still approach him with a roll of your eyes and a snide remark.
You take a lock of his blonde hair between your fingers, gently adjusting it back to flow with the rest. I’m just doing this for the photo, you manage to convince yourself internally. It’s my job to make sure the subject looks appropriate. It’s all for the photo.
“Yer a little close, dontcha think?” he grins, and you breathe slowly to calm the skip of your heartbeat.
“Don’t want you to have a bad picture, now do we?” you murmur quietly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. The studio is nearly silent, the only light being the artificial brightness pointed at Atsumu. He tilts his head up to look at you, shining brown eyes meeting yours when he suddenly speaks.
“How ‘bout I take you out sometime?”
A pathetic choke sounds from your throat as you jolt back, effectively ruining any progress you had made on fixing his hair. Atsumu has the nerve to laugh, amused with your flustered reaction. He’s rendered you speechless, the two of you merely staring at each other for a solid few seconds as you attempt to understand his out-of-the-blue inquiry.
“Wh-what?” you stutter, trying to regain control of the situation.
He leans forward slightly, positioning his face right underneath yours as his lips stretch into a lazy smirk. It’s close, too close, close enough that you find it a little difficult to breathe in that moment.
“Whaddya say?” he offers. “I’ll show ya just how good all my sides are.”