Chapter Text
Even before the ceremony had started, the crowd of nobles mulled about in disbelief, collectively shaking their heads as they whispered of how a marriage between two people who only met a few hours ago was bound to end in tragedy.
Up on the altar, Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi stood hand in hand, shooting secret smiles at one another as the officiant solidified their union with identical golden rings, slipped delicately onto each of their hands. It was as picturesque as it was baffling. What happened next however, no one could have foreseen.
Under a full moon and a thousand glittering stars lighting the night, a tiny meteorite fell down from the sky and bonked Sakusa Kiyoomi on the head, killing him instantly.
While the guests gasped and flew back in horror, Atsumu rushed forward to catch his beloved, pulling him into a tight embrace as they both collapsed onto the floor. The grief on his face was illuminated by the gleam of moonlight, and Atsumu clutched onto his husband’s limp body like a lifeline.
“Someone, please! Find the king,” Atsumu cried, his hands cradling Sakusa’s head with shaking hands. “He can save him. He has to.” Atsumu's voice was thick and watery. The swarm of frightened guests parted as a figure emerged from the sea of bustling skirts and velvet jackets, his white hair and glowing eyes causing a ripple of murmurs among the crowd. A fae , they said in awe. His magic will help them.
Kita Shinsuke approached the couple as if floating on air. The king’s large cloak draped around his shoulders and glided above the floor, leaving traces of blue light around its edges—the color of an electric spark.
“Kiyoomi’s soul has not yet left his body,” Kita said in a low tone, kneeling down at Sakusa’s side. “I can bring him back, but powerful spells come with a price, Atsumu.”
“I know,” Atsumu responded, determined. With a clenched hand, he gripped Sakusa’s shoulder tightly, but the other stroked the thick locks of Sakusa’s curls with gentle reverence. “I’m willing to pay it. Anything.” Kita smiled at him, his fox-like eyes crinkled at the corners.
“The love in your heart is pure, and your devotion is true. I will help you.”
Kita stood once again, a fizzle of blue vibrance pulsing along his fingertips. “His life can only be returned in exchange for something of equal value.” The light took shape as a shimmering orb of swirling blue wisps, and Kita methodically plucked at various threads of light, severing and reconnecting them into new arrangements.
“I will use the love you two share, and the memories that cultivated this love. When he wakes, neither of you will remember anything from this night, nor will you feel the same way about each other. You’ll still be married, but nothing more than strangers.” When he met Atsumu’s gaze, the spell’s light cast shadows upon the curves of Kita’s face and danced in his eyes like blue flames. “Are you sure about this, Atsumu? There’s no turning back after this.”
Atsumu set his jaw with a determination of stone. “He’s my husband. Even if we don’t remember each other, it can’t change the fact that we vowed to be together.” Kita nodded solemnly.
“Magic needs a vessel. The spell will be woven into your rings, the objects that intertwine your souls in matrimony.” Atsumu handed over his own ring, and then carefully slipped Sakusa’s off of his cold, unmoving finger. Under the blue glow of the spell, the glinting gold of their rings shimmered with vivacity. Kita took them both, placing them in the center of the blue orb.
“A love for a life,” Kita murmured, and the light pulsed. “May this enchantment bind your souls eternally, and sanctify your union forevermore.”
The spell brightened, dousing the room with lightning. As Atsumu turned away to shield his eyes, Kita raised his hand, overturned his palm, and let light spiral over their heads like rain.
Snow piles high upon the ground as Atsumu trudges back up the winding road to the manor. Chill, merciless wetness seeps through his thick boots and socks, soaking his feet in unbearable cold. He grips the letter tightly in his gloved fist, praying that the ink won’t smear from the fluffy clumps of snow falling all around him. Atsumu had not made a habit of venturing outside the comfort of his quarters once icicles began to crystalize outside his bedroom window, but some things were worth braving the chance of freezing to death. He shivers, teeth chattering even when he reaches the front doors, heaving them open against the frigid wind with all of his strength, and finally collapsing onto the wooden floors.
The inside of the manor is not exactly warm, but Atsumu is still grateful for the lack of wind, ice, and snow chilling him down to his bones. Atsumu rubs his gloved hands together frantically, trying to summon up any friction to thaw his icy fingers. When he exhales roughly onto his hands, the breath leaves his lips as a frosty ghost, swirling in the air for a moment before disintegrating into nothing.
“Fuck Itachiyama,” he mutters bitterly. Nevermind the loss of his friends, family, and childhood home—Atsumu now asserts that the winter season was the single worst thing about his current living situation. He pockets the letter and pushes himself to his feet, setting off to find a fireplace to heat up his wet clothes.
The flicker of light through a small crack in a doorway catches Atsumu’s eye. It couldn’t be one of the staff, as these rooms are restricted. There’s only one other person who would be on this side of the manor.
Atsumu wrestles with the thought of speaking to him. On one hand, he hates that sick bastard. On the other, though...
It is their wedding anniversary, after all.
Atsumu shrugs, and pushes the door open. Then screams.
“Oh my god, he died again!”
Atsumu slaps his palms up to his face, peeking through his fingers to gawk at Sakusa Kiyoomi’s lifeless corpse, lying face-down on the wooden floors. Atsumu stands tense and wary in the doorway, taking in the vaguely familiar image of Sakusa, limp and unmoving. From his position, Atsumu could see Sakusa’s cheeks pressed flat against the floor planks, and his wild curls spilling over his forehead and neck. He didn’t look dead, now that Atsumu thought about it. Maybe he passed out from the cold or something?
Atsumu takes a tentative step forward, crouching down and reaching an arm out to poke him on the nose. Except Sakusa begins to stir, his hands and arms twitching senselessly before he groans, muffled against the wooden panels of the floor. Atsumu jerks his arm back. Sakusa’s head turns over, and Atsumu’s wide eyes meet a vicious glare.
“Don’t touch me, Miya. I’ll rip your goddamn arms off.”
Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “Is that any way to treat your loving husband? What would people say if they heard you threatening me bodily harm?” Husband. It was a word that still sat strangely on his tongue even though they had been married for a year now.
Sakusa sneers at him with palpable disdain. “Real married couples have a say in being forced together forever. Or actually have memories of why they got married in the first place,” he says roughly, and rises to his knees with a grunt, dusting off the tops of his trousers.
“Are you really going to ignore the fact that you were flat on your face when I came in here?” Atsumu lets his lips twist into a smirk. “How’d you even fall? I’m dying to know. I doubt there’s even a stray dustbunny to trip over, with how you make the poor housekeeper sweep the entire hall eight times an hour.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sakusa says with a frown, his head still lowered to his knees.
“Aw, don’t be like that Omi-Omi! I mean, of course it’s so incredibly embarrassing to trip over your own feet and collapse on the floor like that, but—” Atsumu waves a hand to the space where Sakusa had just gotten up from, but his eyes catch on something red smeared across the immaculate wood. “Oh shit, is that blood ?” He leans forward to inspect the stain, and laughs when Sakusa’s face twists with ire. “Wow, you must have hit the floor hard . Man, I wish I’d seen it.”
“God, I knew you would be insensitive about this. Everything’s just a big joke to you, isn’t it?” Sakusa stalks off, aggressively pulling out a chair and seating himself down with a growl at their dining table.
“Insensitive about what? Are you actually hurt or something?”
“Or something,” Sakusa mutters, resting his forehead in his hands.
“You know, you can be very cryptic for someone widely known as such a blunt asshole,” Atsumu comments, and takes a seat in the chair across from Sakusa. “What are you not telling me?”
Sakusa looks at him, eyes narrowed, for a long moment. Then he sighs, full of exasperation, and pulls off the white glove on his left hand. He extends his arm out between them, and Atsumu peers down at it, a little weirded out.
He expects to see a bruise, some blood bandages, or anything to suggest that Sakusa was suffering some life-threatening injury. But no, it’s just pale skin and primly trimmed nails. Atsumu trails his gaze down to where Sakusa’s ring was, and his thoughts stop short.
“Uh, where did the glowy thing go?” Atsumu asked dumbly. He checks the ring on his own hand, wondering if it had dimmed as well. But the electric gleam still radiated out with a soft intensity, like the metal was reflecting light from an invisible blue sun. He looks up at Sakusa’s hand again, now pressed to the chest of its owner. There was no magic glimmer emitting from Sakusa’s ring, even though Atsumu knew there should be. He’d seen it for himself when they first arrived at Itachiyama, and on the sparse occasions he’d catch a glimpse of Sakusa in the manor.
“Atsumu, you know that magic can become corrupted, right?”
Atsumu nods. Everyone knows that. Growing up in Inarizaki, enchantments were a staple in the majority of his childhood memories. He could still picture the rage on his mother’s face when he and Osamu had once accidentally dropped her beauty spell on the floor, even though she had warned them that they could not get any dirt or dead skin caught in it. When she dipped her face into the swirling cloud of blue wisps, her skin came out a lovely vermillion, but it definitely was not the rosy complexion she had wanted. If Atsumu closed his eyes, he could probably still hear her shrill screams echoing off the walls of Miya manor.
Another time, Atsumu had stolen a strength spell so that he could finally beat Osamu in their squabble-turned-to-wrestling-match, but he carelessly misread the instructions and placed the spell in direct sunlight for longer than what was advised . He realized his mistake much too late, when instead of increased strength, Atsumu had two forearms swelling at an alarming rate. Every act of magic had an individual set of conditions and warnings tied to the ending result. If the user failed to follow the specificities of whatever spell they possessed, it could trigger serious consequences.
“I have reason to believe the spell that was placed on us a year ago has since become infected.”
“I— what?” Atsumu tilts his head because he definitely, definitely heard something wrong. He sits still, waiting for an explanation from Sakusa from the other side of the table. Only silence follows as Atsumu stares incredulously at Sakusa, while the other glares at the spot where Atsumu’s fingers have left smudges on the table’s glass surface.
“My ring has no reason to lose its light like this, Miya. Something must be tainting the spell, and causing the magic to dim. I’ve been researching infected fae magic for a few months now, but it seems like nothing quite like this has happened before,” Sakusa pulls his glove back over his hand, and twists them together anxiously.
“What are you talking about, Omi-kun?”
Sakusa’s eyes flicker up to meet Atsumu’s. Atsumu can’t quite place the spark of emotion in his gaze, whether it was a challenge or a bout of nerves.
"The spell. Is corrupted."
Atsumu blinks once. Twice. He wonders if this is Sakusa’s way of trying to tell a joke. Sakusa’s never shown any sign of having a sense or humor before, so there's a high probability that he's just being stupid.
"Omi-kun," Atsumu drawls, rolling his eyes. "That's dumb as shit. You sitting right there means it’s working just fine. Like you said, it’s been an entire year since then, and nothing’s happened. Look, I know it hasn’t exactly been pleasant living together, and you’re not the only one who’s feeling miserable about it—”
“That’s not it.”
Atsumu narrows his eyes and Sakusa shifts a little in his seat before sighing to draw his gaze up to Atsumu once more. “Do you remember what the fae king said after taking away our memories?”
“‘Course I do.” Atsumu swallows before reciting the last words he heard from Kita-san. “ This resurrection sacrificed a love for a life. Henceforth, your lives are bound together through love .”
“How do you interpret that line?”
Atsumu frowns. “You already know this, Omi-kun. It means we stay married so you stay alive. I gave away our feelings or whatever and you get to not be dead— you’re welcome , by the way,” he says sharply. “Now we’re literally stuck together until the end of time unless you decide you wanna kick the bucket a few years early.” He huffs, and slides lower into his chair. “Didn’t really need a reminder of my eternal doom, thank you very much.”
“That’s what I thought too. But what if those words are supposed to be taken more literally? ‘Love for life’ doesn’t directly translate to ‘marriage for life’.”
“What are you trying to say then?”
“I’m saying that this spell only keeps me alive if we’re...in love. Or something like that.”
“But—we’re not. We’re not in love.”Atsumu tilts his head again. This is starting to get a little weird, even for Sakusa. “Dunno if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly Mr. Personality—I have pretty high standards, Omi-kun, and you’re a bit of a stick in the mud—”
“Like you’re any better, ” Sakusa snaps. “I swear if I didn’t—” He pauses, and raises his eyes to the ceiling, steeling himself. Atsumu can’t help but smirk a little. A riled-up Sakusa who’s seconds away from losing his cool is pretty entertaining. “That’s besides the point. We barely tolerate each other, and there’s not a single thing about you I could ever be attracted to.”
“Right back at you,” Atsumu mutters.
“Whatever. Listen to me. The spell dictates that you traded a ‘love’ for ‘life’ with the direct condition of our lives being ‘bound’ by love. If we’re to take this statement literally, then simply staying married isn’t enough to hold up our end of the deal.”
“Then wouldn’t you have just died again, because there’s obviously no way we were ever gonna fall in love again?”
“I don’t claim to know the intricacies of fae magic, Miya,” Sakusa grumbles. He picks at the edge of the glove covering his wrist for a moment. “But. Um. Yeah, I might be dying.”
Atsumu blanches. “Come again?”
“I wasn’t planning on telling you yet, but you did see me collapse on the floor just now, so it was probably coming soon anyway,” Sakusa says, sounding defeated. “For the past few months, I’ve been feeling feverish, and even collapsed a couple of times. My energy levels are lower than they’ve ever been before, and I think something might be seriously wrong with me, Miya.”
Sakusa grits his teeth, and Atsumu notices his hand tightened into a fist on the table. As Atsumu’s gaze drags back up to Sakusa’s face, he starts to notice small things he missed before. Sakusa is much paler than he usually is. He didn’t even freak out about lying on a floor that hasn’t been mopped for at least a year. Voice quieter, movements slower. Did he always have such prominent bags under his eyes?
Even though Atsumu barely sees Sakusa around these days, he can tell the man looks deathly sick.
“Damn, you do look like shit, don’t you?”
“You’re not supposed to point it out, asshole,” Sakusa bites back.
“What the hell,” Atsumu says under his breath. “And you’re mentioning this now? You mean to say you’ve just been hacking up blood and passing out all over the place and didn’t think to do anything about it till now?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure whether it was a medical issue or not.”
“Omi-kun, when anything that might be dirt enters even a meter-long radius of you, you practically combust. I’m pretty sure you were gonna burn this place down when we found that roach a few months back. There’s no way you have ever been sick in your adult life.”
Sakusa manages a glare at him.
“Oh, wow. This really sucks. So there’s been absolutely no point in me staying here?” Atsumu lets out a long breath. He could have been back in Inarizaki for at least 10 months now.
“You're such a dick," Sakusa snaps at him. "I’m the one who should be complaining. I don’t see your life force being slowly drained out of you.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” Atsumu asks, throwing his hands up in the air. “It’s not like we’re gonna magically like each other again.”
Sakusa purses his lips. “We're going to have to get the spell reversed. Your fae king can do that, right?
Atsumu bristles, crossing his arms. “Yes, of course he can. Kita-san saved your ungrateful ass, he can do it again."
"Yes, that would probably work out perfectly, except that I haven't been able to contact King Shinsuke. And no one in Itachiyama has any correspondence with him. I've been trying for weeks now, but he's a ghost."
Atsumu scoffs. "Well, duh. He's the king of the fae. It's not like he spends a lot of time in the town square. Fae live in the summerlands, Omi-kun."
"It's not like there are fae in Itachiyama. How could I have known that?" Sakusa scowls.
Something clicks in Atsumu’s thoughts. His eyes widen. “Hold on one second, Omi. I just remembered something,” he says, already shoving a hand into his waistcoat pocket. He hastily rips out the letter that had since been lying dormant in his pocket since he came inside the manor. The paper is crumpled, and the dark auburn seal is smeared over the parchment, but Atsumu holds it in his hands like a holy grail. He tears it open and scans over the contents, his heart leaping in his throat when he sees the words he’d been hoping for.
Dear Jackass,
Guess you’ve been busy over there with your new life, which is fine with me. I’m doing great here at home, if you even still care.
Like I said before, Ma and Pa are doing a lot to help out around the monetary side, while I mostly stay in the bakery. We’ve been getting more and more orders coming in because folks are starting to spread word around the towns farther north. But of course, it’s still nothing compared to all the business I’ve been getting from old neighbors since the Festival is coming up soon. In fact, I’m finishing up some last-minute apple-puff for Aran’s ball tomorrow night.
Everyone’s been asking if you’re coming home in time to celebrate, but I wouldn’t know, would I? It would have been fun to spend it with you again. Don’t know if that will happen anytime soon, though.
Take care, or whatever,
Samu
The words sting, like they have for every letter he’d read each month, but Atsumu can’t dwell on the churning of guilt in his gut right now. His eyes fixate on two words smack in the middle of the page, The Festival.
“I know how we can find Kita-san,” he says, shaking the letter in his hand and beaming at Sakusa. Sakusa doesn’t smile back.
“Does he happen to be hiding somewhere on that piece of parchment?”
Atsumu waves off the sarcasm. He’s too excited to think of a comeback. “Listen. You know about Inarizaki’s Festival of Light, right? It’s a really big deal for the kingdom, and I know a lot of foreigners travel in to see the magic light shows and stuff.”
“I may have heard of it.”
“Okay, so, obviously most people just go to fancy balls and buy a bunch of magic shit from the Central Market, but that whole week is supposed to be dedicated to celebrating the peace and amity that fae and humans achieved thousands of years ago when Inarizaki was founded, and have maintained all the way to today. And so , it’s very important for Kita Shinsuke, ruler over both these species, to make an appearance. God knows he’d never step foot in a party otherwise.”
“You want us to go to Inarizaki then, is that what you’re saying? Show up at one of these opulent parties and track down your Kita-san?”
“Duh, Omi-kun. The timing couldn’t be better,” Atsumu smiles, and sets the letter down on the space between them, tapping at a line “Festivities start as early as tomorrow.” Sakusa peers down at it. Atsumu’s face flares with heat when Sakusa’s eyes move from the words Atsumu indicated to the greeting at the top, and he quickly pulls the letter back to his own side. He doesn’t want Sakusa reading it.
“I’m not going to this shit,” he says nonchalantly, like it isn’t the most nonsensical thing Atsumu’s ever heard.
“What the hell? Why not? This is literally a perfect opportunity for us to find Kita, handed on a silver platter. And it’s happening right now!” He waves the letter in his hand frantically.
“I don’t like crowds.”
“You could be dying, dumbass.”
Sakusa turns his nose up at Atsumu. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly.
“Omi-kun, what do you expect to happen? Do you think that I’ll go to the festival and I’ll find out where Kita-san is and then bring him over to you just like that?”
“I don’t want to travel all the way to Inarizaki. We’re in the middle of a blizzard here.”
“It’s barely a day’s journey, you priss. Honestly, do you expect it to take less time for me to go by myself and explain our situation to Kita-san, then travel all the way back here for you? I think I’m being more than reasonable with saying that we should go together to get it done as fast as possible,” he concludes, meeting Sakusa with a steady gaze.
Sakusa’s lips purse, displeased but relenting. “If that’s the only way to find the fae king, then fine. We’re going to go pay your home a visit. And hopefully by the end of it, Shinsuke will be able to get rid of this god awful spell and I’ll finally be rid of you.”
A wide grin breaks over Atsumu’s face. He’s going home. Finally, no more of Itachiyama’s cold, unforgiving winter. No more of seeing Sakusa’s stupid face and living in Sakusa’s stupidly clean manor. He’s going to see Kita again, maybe Aran, and—
And he’ll have to see his brother again, too. Shit.
Atsumu’s eyes drift over to Osamu’s latest letter, still sitting towards the end of the table. Osamu, who’s written to him every month since they parted ways last year. Osamu, who’s having the time of his life working in a bakery of all things, while Atsumu’s been suffering all alone.
Osamu, whom he hasn’t spoken to, or even sent a letter to, for over an entire year.
“We can stay with your brother, right? It’ll be more convenient than paying for some random inn.”
Atsumu swallows thickly. “Uh—about that.”
Sakusa’s scowl deepens. “What's wrong, Miya?”
Astumu brings his arm up to rub the back of his head. “Well, ‘Samu’s just real busy all the time with his new business and everything. And he would probably worry himself sick if I showed up out of the blue. So honestly, it’s our best bet to just spend the night somewhere else. It’ll be faster that way too! ‘Samu would definitely keep us for at least a week as free labor.”
It’s not even a lie, really. Knowing Osamu, he’d punch Atsumu for not giving him a warning about visiting, then immediately toss an apron to him and put him on trash duty.
Sakusa looks unconvinced. Atsumu knows it’s a weak reason, but he can’t let Osamu see that Atsumu’s marriage and whole life has gone downhill. Especially with how they left things the last time they saw each other.
“As much as it pains me to say it,” sighs Sakusa, “you’re not wrong. It would be faster to avoid an extended stay in Inarizaki when all we need to do is find Kita Shinsuke.” His gaze shifts downward, and the shadows bring out the dark circles under his eyes. “We don’t exactly know if this spell will take a turn for the worse or not." Sakusa folds his hands together on top of the table, his fingers twisting the ring on his finger under his glove.
"We'll leave as soon as possible then. Get in, get out, just like that."
Excitement and dread battle within Atsumu' mind. He was going to get his old life back—what he had yearned for since the stupid spell was cast in the first place, and what he thought was impossible until a couple of minutes ago. But he needed things to go perfectly. Quite a lot could blow up in his face if he wasn’t careful. Atsumu runs through a vague plan in his mind over and over, until he has it memorized.
Get to Inarizaki. Find Kita. Avoid Osamu.
Reverse the spell.
It was always the same dream.
Midnight air carried the muted sounds of the ballroom all the way to their spot on the balcony, distant reverberations of boisterous laughter and champagne flutes clinking together. Atsumu’s eyes cracked open and his vision cleared, the honeyed light from hanging lanterns dusting the figure in front of him with a soft, gilded glow.
Atsumu touched his fingertips to his bottom lip, still reeling in the sensation of Sakusa’s mouth on his.
“You kissed me,” he breathed out, disbelieving. Sakusa scooted back to the other side of the chaise lounge, not meeting Atsumu’s eye.
“I kissed you.” His voice was like gravel. Atsumu couldn’t read his expression in the dim lighting, but his eyes still lingered on the way the enchanted flames left dancing shadows across Sakusa’s skin.
“Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m drunk or something.”
Atsumu glanced at Sakusa’s glass of wine, still filled to the brim, on the side table beside him. He raised an eyebrow, and slid a few inches closer to Sakusa.
“C’mon, Omi. That can’t have been the best lie you could come up with,” he teased. Sakusa visibly reddened, and Atsumu, encouraged, moved a bit closer. Now, just a small twitch of his finger, resting on the chaise, would touch the outside of Sakusa’s thigh. “It’s okay to admit you like me, you know.”
Sakusa scoffed loudly. “You are the most conceited person I’ve ever met, Miya.”
“Omi-Omi, don’t play dumb! It would be much easier to just admit it after that kiss. You like me, don’t you?” Atsumu leaned forward into Sakusa’s space, and from this distance he could see the blush on his cheeks deepen in color.
“That’s ridiculous, no I don’t,” Sakusa said, clipped. It was very obviously a lie.
“You totally do! Holy shit, you like me? You like me ? How?” Atsumu jumped in his seat and startled Sakusa, who jerked back to the arm of the chaise lounge.
“Shut up! I don’t!” Sakusa twisted his body away from Atsumu, but Atsumu grabbed onto his wrist to keep him in place. “No, Atsumu, get away from me—”
Atsumu kissed him. Sakusa gasped into his mouth, and his hands curled around Atsumu’s jaw tenderly. Atsumu breathed in his taste, his smell, and savored the warmth of his skin in the frigid night. The rush feels golden.
“I like you too, you know,” he whispered once they parted.
“I don’t know why you would,” Sakusa answered, voice raw.
“I think that’s the stupidest thing you’ve said all night.” Atsumu gripped Sakusa’s chin before he could turn away and kissed him again, quick and chaste. Sakusa’s eyes fluttered closed. But before Atsumu could dive in again, Sakusa pulled away, grabbing Atsumu’s hands and pushing them off his face. He held their hands together between them, and stroked over the back of Atsumu’s hand with his thumb.
“You drive me crazy Atsumu. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or what I’m supposed to feel when I’m with you,” he murmured low, his head bowed and eyes fixed on their intertwined hands.
Atsumu considered his hesitancy, and wracked his brain on what he could say to comfort Sakusa. He squeezed Sakusa’s clasped hands.
“Well, why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?"
Saksua’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his lips curled into a playful smile. Above him, the glow of the lantern spread over the outline of his face and dark curls like a halo. He looked ethereal enough to be an angel, too.
Atsumu's eyes fluttered shut as Sakusa closed the gap between them, and Sakusa's lips pressed against his own. Atsumu ran a hand up Sakusa’s neck and gripped his curls tight, pulling him in closer. Warmth spilled through his chest like molten honey.
He wakes up.
It was the same dream Atsumu had almost every night for months. A memory of how he fell in love with his husband.
Except, it should have been impossible for Atsumu to have any memories from that night.
Atsumu would like to thank every god he's ever heard of that the distance between Itachiyama and Inarizaki is barely a day's journey.
Sitting in stifling silence with Sakusa Kiyoomi in their carriage is probably the only thing worse than actually talking to him. It’s not like Atsumu didn’t try; he’d asked Sakusa about his family, commented on the weather outside, and even offered to give Sakusa a rundown of what life was like in Inarizaki. But the guy is a brick wall, allergic to small talk, and harbouring a deep-rooted hatred for Atsumu, so it was difficult to get any response other than a scowl.
That’s fine with Atsumu, he decides as he leans on his elbow to watch the clouds pass by through the window, because sitting silently and pretending that Sakusa didn’t exist was basically all that he had done with his time in Itachiyama. He’s a real master at it by now.
And it’s not like he was eager to bond with Sakusa anyway. Once they find Kita they’ll finally be rid of each other, and hopefully Atsumu will never have to see Sakusa again in his life.
The silence breaks once the carriage slows to a stop. From somewhere outside, the coachman announces that they’d arrived at the outskirts of Inarizaki’s northernmost town. As Atsumu steps out, a bitter wind instantly whips at him like a wave. He shivers, and pulls his coat tighter around his body. Inarizaki had never been so cold in Atsumu’s memories.
“We’ll have to stop here for the night. It’s nearly dusk. I don’t want to do any more traveling while dark,” Sakusa remarks once they’ve exited the carriage and watched the coachman ride off. His voice sounds a little hoarse from lack of use in the last few hours. Looking back at him, Atsumu can see that Sakusa’s face is fairly flushed from the cold, and he visibly shivers as another gust of wind washes over them.
“Yeah, of course,” Atsumu responds. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and takes a quick glance to survey his surroundings.
Atsumu never really spent much time in the northern towns of Inarizaki. He and Osamu were raised in their estate on the edge of the summerlands, the southernmost point of the entire kingdom. Even if the travel distance wasn’t more than just an hour or two away, he’d never needed to drift farther than Osamu’s favorite tavern some few miles from his home.
Looking around now, Atsumu realizes that northern towns are a little different from the peaceful countryside he grew up in.
A beer bottle sails through the air at an alarming rate and smashes against a wall behind Atsumu, missing his head by a couple of inches. He lets out a high-pitched shriek, and flings himself away, crashing into Sakusa beside him. Sakusa roughly shoves him off, muttering, “Get off me, asshole.”
Atsumu whips his head around to search for the offending bottle thrower, and a rowdy, crowded tavern catches his eye. A few men are fighting at the entrance doors, cursing and taking turns throwing punches at each other. Gathered near them is a small crowd at a distance from the fight, cheering and passing around a bottle of dark alcohol. Even as Atsumu’s vision shifts away from the tavern, he sees a similar pattern of trash littering the road, run-down shops, and stragglers fighting the wind to escape inside the nearest buildings as quickly as possible.
“This place is disgusting,” Sakusa complains, wrinkling his nose and bringing his scarf up to cover his face. Atsumu silently agrees, but he would rather die than admit it.
“Hey now, this is my home you’re talking about!” Atsumu crosses his arms and frowns at Sakusa. Sakusa’s scowl deepens as he looks down at Atsumu, and Atsumu has never hated the fact that Sakusa is a few centimeters taller than him more than right now.
“You know Miya, I can see how Inarizaki really suits you. What with the dirty streets, drunkards running around, and whatnot.”
Atsumu’s jaw clenches. “Obviously I wasn’t raised here, jackass! And this is the border town to the north, so it’s basically Itachiyama territory anyway. It’s a much better match for your garbage personality, considering the icy cold weather and oppressive darkness.”
Sakusa huffs, shoulders hunched, and he looks away from Atsumu. “You’re such a piece of shit.”
Atsumu gives him a mocking laugh. “That’s very creative, Omi-kun!”
Sakusa glares at him, and then shifts his gaze to the small shops lining the cobblestone road. “We need to find places to stay for the night.” Atsumu hums in agreement. They start walking along the road, and Atsumu searches for an inn that doesn’t look like it could double as a crime scene. Finally, he spots a couple walking into a relatively new-looking building without garbage littering the entrance. Through the windows, he sees a well-lit interior and customers mingling inside. The painted sign outside the building reads ‘The Jolly Fox Inn’. Bingo.
Atsumu nudges Sakusa with his elbow. “What about over there?” he asks, tiling his head to the inn.
Sakusa’s expression is contemplative for a small moment before morphing into a grimace. “It looks decrepit.” Atsumu holds back a groan. The jerk has the most ridiculously high standards. “But it’s not as bad as some of the other places we’ve seen here. It’ll have to do.” Atsumu pumps his fist in triumph.
“Aright, see you later then.”
“Huh?” Atsumu halts in his victory dance and turns bewildered to Sakusa, speed-walking toward the inn.
“Wha—Omi-kun, wait up!” Atsumu runs over to Sakusa and steps into stride with him. He turns to Sakusa to give him a dirty look, only to see Sakusa already glowering at him.
“What are you doing.” Sakusa stops in his tracks, and Atsumu does too.
Atsumu blinks. “Following you to the inn?”
“No. Go find somewhere else to stay.” Sakusa stalks off again, leaving Atsumu gaping behind him in disbelief.
“Huh?” he asks again, jogging alongside Sakusa. “You don’t want to stay at the same place?”
“Hell no.” He’s still not looking at Atsumu. “I don’t like you, Miya. Just come find me in the morning.”
“But—” Atsumu shakes his head in confusion. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Like I care. Just stay away from me.” Sakusa points to his right, saying, “What about that hostel-looking building over there? You’ll fit right in.” As Atsumu turns to the place he indicated, a man stumbles out of the hostel’s rickety front doors and vomits on the floor. The sign above the entrance immediately falls off its shackles and hits his head. Atsumu recoils in terror, turning back to Sakusa, who had already started off again without Atsumu.
“Omi-kun!” Atsumu calls out, grabbing onto Sakusa’s arm. He chuckles nervously. “I take back what I said before, I think we should try to get along for a bit! Let’s stick together, okay?” Atsumu knows he sounds desperate as hell, but he couldn’t care less. He just can’t sleep in a hostel where he was almost guaranteed to get robbed. Or murdered.
“What the hell? No, fuck off.” Sakusa stops walking again to shake his arm out of Atsumu’s grip.
“Oh, come on, Omi-Omi! We lasted in the same house for a year, what’s one more day?”
“One more day would cost the last grip on my sanity. It’s a miracle I lasted being in the same house as you for that long. I should be given sainthood, honestly.” Atsumu’s buttons are officially all pushed. It’s not like he would ever willingly subject himself to being in Sakusa’s presence, but their circumstances are a little dire right now. Doesn’t Sakusa see that?
Atsumu tries a different approach. He holds up a hand, waving the faintly glowing ring on his finger under Sakusa’s nose. “Omi-kun, like it or not, we’re married, remember?”
“I refuse to accept that.” Atsumu ignores him.
“That means you have to stick with me, if not for just one more day. Besides, this way, it’ll be much faster to start traveling again tomorrow.”
Atsumu knows he’s being the rational one right now, which is honestly such a power rush. Sakusa doesn’t look happy about it, but from his silence Atsumu knows he’s already conceded.
“Fine.” Atsumu preens with satisfaction. Winning an argument with Sakusa with logic is even better than annoying him, who knew?
“Whatever—we’ll just get tonight over with and tomorrow we can finish our job here and I never have to think about you or being goddamn married to you ever again.” Sakusa grits out.
Atsumu is still grinning as he throws open the door to the inn and tries to slam in it Sakusa’s face. Sakusa catches the edge of the chipped wood and glares back at him.
Atsumu shoots him the fakest smile he can muster over his shoulder as he strides further into the inn. The sound of a fiddle and a crooning voice catch his attention, and he swivels his head around to spot what seemed to be a traveling minstrel recounted a love ballad. Atsumu turned back around to Sakusa, who was just rounding the corner to catch up to him
“See, Omi-kun? How can you call this fine establishment decrepit when there’s live music here for our entertainment!” He gestures an arm out toward the minstrel.
“And the fair prince with his golden hair doth give their love away,
His beloved took back his own life, and together they spent the night.
Although they believed their love forgotten, love doth have a stronger might,
One look at each other was enough to revive, now their love was here to stay.”
Atsumu feels his cheeks flame as he realizes exactly which tragic love story the minstrel was singing about. He sneaks a glance at Sakusa, to see his expression twisted in disgust. Atsumu couldn’t help but agree. It wasn’t even a good song.
“You’re wrong about the golden hair. It’s more like the color of piss. And Miya Atsumu isn’t a prince, he’s just a lord.”
Atsumu’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. Is Sakusa actually talking to the minstrel singing about them? And what— correcting his historical accuracy? What a bastard.
“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, my friend,” Atsumu shakes a finger at Sakusa and walks up to the minstrel, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “This talented musician speaks the truth! I should know, I was there that night.”
Sakusa raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really? Are you sure your memories aren’t a little foggy?”
“Yes, I saw it all! The way the dashing and handsome Miya Atsumu bravely saved the life of poor, helpless, much less handsome Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Atsumu gave Sakusa a sly grin, and tightened his grip on the minstrel as he tried to squirm away. “Hey, where are you going, minstrel? Help me educate my friend over here on the facts of the story.”
“Look fellas, I’m just playing for a few gold pieces so I think that—”
“I’ll give you fifty gold pieces to sing the song exactly the same, but describe Miya’s hair as an ugly piss color.” Sakusa interjects, pulling a coin purse out of his coat.
“Omi-kun! You’re cheating!”
“Wait, even better—keep everything the same but use Osamu’s name instead—”
“Oh my god—Omi-kun, you’re too cruel.” Atsumu drags a hand across his face to hide the small smile that tugs at his lips. With how terrible Sakusa’s personality usually is, he’s surprised that he’s actually enjoying a bit of banter with him. Damn, Atsumu must be really lonely.
He risks a peek at Sakusa to see— holy shit, is that a smile? Sakusa’s scarf is covering his face up to his nose, so Atsumu can’t be sure, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners in a way that Atsumu has never seen before.
(At least not while Atsumu was awake.)
“Ahhh! You’re smiling—what the hell?!” Atsumu jumps away from Sakusa and jabs a finger at him in horror. If there was any humor in Sakusa’s expression before, it immediately dies at Atsumu’s words.
“No I’m not,” Sakusa denies, scowling.
“I didn’t know you were capable of positive emotions!”
“You’ve never spent more than ten minutes talking to me. And I hate you. Obviously I haven’t smiled in front of you before, I don’t know why you’re so surprised.” Sakusa averts his eyes from Atsumu, crossing his arms. If Atsumu didn’t know better, he would have thought that Sakusa seemed a little shy.
A laugh bursts its way out of Atsumu’s chest. “Omi-kun,” he drawls, “Who knew you cared so much about the time we’ve spent together! If I’d have known, I would have spared a few more minutes with you.” He cocks out a hip and tilts his head up to Sakusa, whose face is reddening from irritation, probably.
“Miya, your nonsensical babbling scared away the minstrel.”
“Wha— oh.” Atsumu turns around to see the traveling minstrel discreetly slipping out the doors of the inn. Atsumu had honestly forgotten he was even there in the first place. His heart falters with a tinge of guilt, as he actually was planning on giving the man a couple of gold coins for borderline harassing him.
“Come on, we have to check into our rooms.” When he swivels back to Sakusa, he finds that the man has already walked off a few feet toward the front desk, at which sits an innkeeper who is very obviously trying not to look like she had been eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Hi, I’d like to book a one-bedroom room for one night, please.” Atsumu watches as Sakusa attempts a friendly smile, which just looks like a painful grimace.
“Omi-kun, you’re being so uncharacteristically polite! Do you really save all your rudeness just for me?” Atsumu teases, coming closer to slap a hand on Sakusa’s shoulder before he can smack it away.
“Stop being obnoxious in public.” Atsumu lets out a small chuckle. After the innkeeper hands Sakusa his key, Atsumu steps up to her.
“Hi there! Another one-bedroom, please and thank you.” He drums his fingers across the top of the desk and flashes the innkeeper a grin. She whirls around with wide eyes and brings her hands up to her cheeks in a nervous gesture.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I just gave that man my last room.” She nods her head to Sakusa at his side, but Atsumu doesn’t look at him. “I didn’t think it was a problem, I assumed you two came together!” She gestures at the matching rings on their fingers, and Atsumu grimaces.
“Your...last room?” Atsumu and Sakusa turn to each other with mirrored expressions of panic.
“Yes, I’m so sorry we’re all booked, you know. Lots of people coming from all over to celebrate the Festival of Light, and all!”
Atsumu’s heart sinks. His eyes slide to Sakusa, scowling at the poor innkeeper with a glare fierce enough to kill. Atsumu watches her shrink under the fire of his stare, and her face redden. Atsumu isn’t a total dick, so he sighs and nudges Sakusa’s shoulder, directing him to the stairs.
“Ah, well I guess it can’t be helped. Let’s go, Omi-kun! We have an early start tomorrow, might as well get some rest while we can. Thanks again!” Atsumu shoots the innkeeper a bright grin before pushing Sakusa up the stairs.
“I despise you,” Sakusa growls out when they’re out of earshot to the rest of the inn.
“It’s not my fault that there was only one room left!”
“You’re the one that wanted to stay at the same inn. This could have easily been avoided if you had just looked for space somewhere else.”
“Did you not hear what that girl said? Everything’s already taken because of the festival. It’s a miracle we managed to find somewhere to stay. What would have happened if I didn’t find a vacancy somewhere else, huh?” Atsumu places his hands on his hips and glares up at Sakusa, feeling a vein in his temple starting to throb. Atsumu was well aware their situation wasn’t ideal, but did Sakusa have to blame him for every little thing?
“I’m sure you would have found a nice dumpster you’d feel right at home in.”
“You know, Omi-kun, it’s a wonder how I managed to snatch your hand in marriage so easily. There must have been an overwhelming amount of suitors lined up, with your charming personality,” he gripes, shoving past Sakusa and racing to the top of the stairs. He feels a small victory, looking down at Sakusa with a smirk.
“You of all people don’t get to criticize my personality,” Sakusa bites back, and shoulders his way past Atsumu and into the hallway.
They round the corner to the second floor. Sakusa holds the key in one of his gloved hands and peers at the number written on it, then scans the doors on either side of the hallway before walking up to one. Once Sakusa’s gotten the door unlocked, Atsumu slips inside before him, just to piss him off.
All of Atsumu’s thoughts come to a halt as he takes in their room. There’s a small desk perched in the far corner next to the window, an already lit fireplace with a small fire spreading a pleasant warmth through the room. But then his eyes catch on something else. He stares at the taupe, neatly straightened, singular bed placed against the farthest wall. He still hasn’t moved when Sakusa comes to stand beside him.
“I’m taking it.” Sakusa deadpans.
“Omi-kun! You can’t just call dibs like that!” Atsumu dramatically shouts in Sakusa’s face, a tad hypocritically, since Atsumu had called dibs in situations just like this one too many times in his life. But in his defense, growing up with a twin brother means that you have to stake your claim on stuff as soon as possible. “You’re supposed to offer it to me first! That’s just common decency,” Atsumu explains, well aware he has never expressed common decency in his entire life, but fuck Sakusa anyway.
“ Hell no. Sleep on the floor, Miya.” Sakusa pushes past him and dumps his burlap bag on the foot of the bed. “I’m the one whose life force is being slowly sucked out of them.”
Atsumu crosses his arms and pouts. “Okay sure, that’s fair. But I’m not a dog, you know! I deserve a spot on the bed too.”
Sakusa recoils in disgust. “We are not sharing.”
“Well, obviously I don’t want to share with you either!” Atsumu says, sticking his tongue out at Sakusa. He waves his arm around their small, fairly barren room. “But there’s no couch in here.”
“That’s hardly my problem. I wanted us to stay in separate inns.”
“You saw those other places! I would for sure have been killed or worse if I had stayed in there for a whole night alone.” Atsumu runs a hand through his hair, irritated. “Whatever, we can argue about this later. Let’s go get some food from downstairs, I’m absolutely starving.”
“I’m not getting poisoned from northern Inarizaki mutton and beer. You can do whatever you want, but I’m staying here.”
“Omi-kun, what are you talking about? You need to eat something—neither of us have had anything all day! And it’s past sunset already.”
“I predicted something like this would happen, so I brought along a few things from the manor. I don’t trust strangers to prepare my food.” Sakusa pulls his bag onto his lap, and starts undoing the knot of the string tying it closed.
Atsumu blinks in surprise. It was a good idea. Why hadn’t he thought of doing that? Atsumu tried to reconcile in himself that maybe Sakusa was smarter than him. Damn bastard. “Oh, great! That’s real clever of you.” Atsumu pulls up the chair from the small writing desk opposite the bed and takes a backwards seat. “So, what are we having?”
Sakusa glares at him. “Excuse you, but I only brought this stuff for me. Why don’t you just go downstairs to the lounge like you were originally planning?” Nevermind, thought Atsumu. Sakusa may be intelligent, but he’s still a huge jerk.
“Oh, come on, Omi-kun!” Atsumu leans forward and rests his chin on the top of the chair’s backrest. “You can’t spare me a drumstick or something?” He points at the small meal Sakusa had just taken out of his bag: a plate of two pieces of chicken, half a loaf of bread, and an apple. The food is wrapped in a large thin cloth and some utensils spill out as he spreads the meal out over his lap.
“Nope. Go ahead and starve,” Sakusa says with a twitch at his lips. He’s still got a barely-there smirk on his face as takes off his gloves and picks up the bread. Atsumu watches, groaning. The meat is cold, so maybe Atsumu’s just imagining the savory, smoky smell wafting through the room.
Atsumu’s traitorous stomach lets out a loud growl, and he feels his face heat up in embarrassment as Sakusa looks up from his plate, making extremely awkward eye contact with him. Atsumu purses his lips but doesn’t look away, wanting to have at least a little dignity, but Sakusa just rolls his eyes.
“Oh, fine. Here you go, just take it. Whatever.” Sakusa, a tad aggressively, pulls out a white and gold cloth napkin, wrapping together a chicken leg and half the bread. He thrusts it out to Atsumu, with his brow furrowed and mouth set in a hard frown, expression defiant and challenging despite the uncharacteristic generosity of his actions.
Atsumu is a little taken aback as he accepts the napkin, murmuring, “Um. Thank you.” Sakusa doesn’t respond. He turns back to his food and doesn’t lift his head up again.
He turns the drumstick over in his hand, observing the browned skin spotted with spices and the yellow fat lining the bone. Sakusa wouldn’t poison him now, would he? Atsumu gives a half-shrug, and sinks his teeth into the meat.
It’s decent. It’s cold, but he’s not about to complain, as the fireplace in their little room wouldn’t do well for heating up the food. At least it’s not unseasoned and undercooked like he thought Sakusa might have prepared it. He can almost hear commentary from Osamu in his head.
“Did you cook this?” Atsumu says, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Sakusa gives him an unimpressed look, with one eyebrow raised. Atsumu isn’t sure if that answered his question or not.
“There’s a lot of garlic.”
Sakusa’s hands—knife in one, fork in the other—fall to the cloth over his lap. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.” he hisses.
“No, it was a compliment!” Atsumu raises his hands up placatingly. One of them is still holding the drumstick. “The chicken’s good. I would know, ‘Samu is always talking about how nobody in the summerlands ever uses enough garlic and saffron in their meat, even though that’s the most common way to season it in the west.” Sakusa seems unconvinced, but doesn’t press the matter. Atsumu lowers his hands and looks back down to his food, remembering having meals exactly like this with his brother.
“He used to make our parents travel all the way out to Central Capitol to pick up exotic spices to experiment with, because where we lived, there was mostly farmland, you know? Not a whole lot of markets for trade. Drove our cook downright insane when he wouldn’t clean up after though.” Atsumu looks over to their tiny, water-stained window outlooking the street outside the inn. He sighs, a little wistfully, at how the frigid, biting wind of this northern town is so different from the Inarizaki he remembers.
“Miya?”
Atsumu hums in response, resting his elbow on the top of the chair and digging his chin into his arm.
“Why aren’t we staying at your brother’s house?” Sakusa’s tone is light, almost gentle, but Atsumu still tenses. He doesn’t answer. “You sound like you miss him, and I thought you two were close. He sends you a letter almost every month.”
“Going through my mail, Omi-kun?” Atsumu finally raises his head to quirk an eyebrow at Sakusa, who just rolls his eyes.
“Don’t try avoiding the question. I check our mail too, you know.” Atsumu groans at Sakusa’s perfectly reasonable explanation, and tries to stall for time by wrapping up his half-eaten chicken and bread in the napkin Sakusa gave him. He’s lost his appetite for the moment.
“‘Samu and I aren’t on good terms right now. We’re sorta...having a fight.” Atsumu refuses to meet Sakusa’s curious gaze, but Atsumu can still see him blink and purse his lips in confusion.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“But he writes to you. Often.”
“Yeah.”
“And, what— you’re just ignoring him? Like an ass?” Sakusa’s face scrunches up in disapproval, and Atsumu balks at him, bracing his hands on the edges of the chair’s top.
“It’s complicated! I don’t know what to say to him.” Heat rises up the back of Atsumu’s neck and he curses internally. Now was not really the best time to accidentally spill his guts out about his brother issues.
“Say literally anything. He’s your twin brother. You should appreciate that he’s trying to maintain your relationship.” Atsumu suppressed the sudden urge to launch himself out of the chair and punch Sakusa in the face. What the hell did he know? And where did he get off, telling Atsumu how to handle his personal problems?
“Oh I’m sorry, did I ask for your advice? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Atsumu hugs the backrest of his chair like a pillow, looking anywhere but at Sakusa. He wants to leave. But there isn’t really anywhere he could go at this time of night, and retreating now when he’d made such a fuss over staying together would be humiliating.
Atsumu deflects instead. “Let’s talk about you, huh? What’s with not wanting to go to the Festival of Light?” Suddenly, he finds that he genuinely wants to know what Sakusa’s deal is about the festival. It’s been bothering him since they got here, and now is an opportunity to find out.
Sakusa immediately steels his expression, face going stony. He looks away abruptly, turning to glare at an expanse of wall to his right. “I already told you this. I don’t like crowds.”
“Yeah, you said that, but it’s gotta be something more!” Atsumu shifts in the chair to bring his legs under him, sitting on his heels. “This is easily the most efficient way for us to find Kita-san and get that spell reversed, but you refuse to do it. Why? There must be some important reason.” His words come out a bit more forceful than he intended; somehow Sakusa doesn’t seem like the type to respond to aggression, despite how he loves to treat Atsumu.
Sakusa isn’t looking at him. Instead, he’s glaring daggers at his own hands, folded neatly in his lap. Atsumu can’t be sure if he’s just decided he won’t answer, or if he’s in deep thought about what to say.
“Is it ‘cause of the germs and stuff? Afraid of getting sick?” Atsumu cocks his head to one side, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that before. But that was a stupid reason anyway—it’s not like they’re going to spend a lot of time mingling with the crowd before their search for Kita.
“Don’t be insensitive.”
“I’m not trying to be!” Atsumu raises his chin up and groans in frustration, At least, he doesn’t want to be insensitive. But it’s hard to try being nice to Sakusa when he’s always so testy. And people used to tell Atsumu that he was bad-tempered. “I’m just trying to understand! No judgement.” Atsumu raises his palms up again, surrendering.
Sakusa stares at him for a long moment, the flickering candles casting moving shadows along the curves of his face. Atsumu shrinks a little under his gaze, unnerved by the way Sakusa suddenly wants to make prolonged eye contact. The moment finally passes when Sakusa blinks, and moves to stare out their tiny window.
“I’ve just always preferred things to be clean. It’s not a big deal, I can handle myself, okay?”
Atsumu can’t stop his eyes from rolling. This wasn’t any progress at all, he was already well-aware of that particular quirk of Sakusa’s.
“Why are you being so defensive about this?” He doesn’t care this time when it sounds accusatory.
“My god, just lay off, Miya!” Sakusa’s hands fist in the duvet underneath him. He looks like he wants to throw something at Atsumu, and at this point, he probably will. “What’s with you wanting to—to pick apart my flaws all the time?”
Atsumu blanches. That came out of nowhere.
“What’s with you thinking everything I do is an effort to insult you?” Atsumu is honestly a little offended. He knows that he and Sakusa aren’t buddy-buddy but it’s pretty bold of Sakusa to start criticizing his morals. “Have you considered maybe I want to know so I can help ? Yesterday I found out that you’ve been dealing with spells of unconsciousness, along with coughing up blood and god knows what else—”
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe you actually care about my well-being.” Sakusa spits out, glowering at him. “You don’t like me. We don’t like each other,” Sakusa exclaims, gesturing his hand out into the space between them.
“Is it so hard for you to comprehend that I might have basic human decency?” Atsumu grips the edge of the chair’s backrest as he grinds his teeth. He doesn’t really want to hear Sakusa’s answer, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “That, for some reason, I would prefer to not accidentally put you in a situation you’re uncomfortable with, or see you seriously injured?”
Sakusa scoffs, and crosses his arms. “Please. I know what people think about me. I get it.” The line between his furrowed brows grows deeper, and his eyes shift downward to the floor at Atsumu’s feet. “I’m not fun to be around. I take things too seriously. I know I can be cold. I know I’m not silly or flirtatious like you, and you think I’m a freak—and unpleasant—”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Atsumu interrupts, waving a hand to stop Sakusa. “You just put about a hundred words in my mouth. I don’t think you’re a freak.” He tilts his head and peers at Sakusa. “When have I ever said that?”
“I—I can’t remember exactly when, but I’m sure you’ve thought it.”
Damn, Sakusa’s got him there. For the entire time he’s known Sakusa, Atsumu has gotten irked by just the thought of him. But maybe he’s been wrong to not give the guy a chance. Atsumu looks down to his uneaten food folded up in the napkin, half of Sakusa’s meal that he gave to Atsumu despite how terrible Atsumu has treated him this past year. It reminds him a bit of his brother, how they could fight for days on end, but it wouldn’t stop Osamu from shoving a plate of steaming vegetables and beef in his face once it was time for dinner. A lump forms in his throat as it hit him that he hasn’t had Osamu’s cooking in over a year now. He swallows.
“I’m sorry.”
That certainly gets Sakusa’s attention. His head immediately snaps up to stare incredulously at Atsumu. If Atsumu wasn’t trying to be serious at the moment, he would have found it hilarious.
“I didn’t know that what I said hurt you. I thought…you always seem so unaffected.” He blinks and looks away for a moment, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with the rather vulnerable mood he’d just created. “And I don’t hate you. I never have. Plus, we’ve spent quite a bit of time together today, and it wasn’t all entirely unpleasant.” He gives Sakusa a sheepish smile.
“I just… I thought you didn’t like me.”
“ I thought you didn’t like me !” Atsumu guffaws, and grins despite himself. “You sure do mention it every time you have a chance!”
“I’m sorry for that,” Sakusa admits, eyes averted.
Atsumu blinks twice at him. He wasn’t looking for an apology, and the fact that Sakusa didn’t even hesitate stuns him into silence. Sakusa’s expression is difficult to read in the dim lighting, but Atsumu can still see his mouth drawn in a tight line. “I guess over time...it’s just become easier to drive people away rather than letting them close and finding out that they don’t actually care about you.”
Sakusa's words strike a cord with him, tugging on something deep within his chest. People at court like to whisper. They’ll spread rumors and ostracize those that don’t conform to the standard of the nobility. He likes to pretend that he doesn’t care about any of that, but truthfully Atsumu doesn’t know what it must be like to feel completely alone. Osamu has always been at his side in every part of his life, and Atsumu felt that he didn’t need the approval of anyone else as long as he had Osamu’s.
“Who made you believe any of that bullshit in the first place?”
“People just don’t like me,” Sakusa explains. “It’s a fairly common truth.”
Atsumu purses his lips, and feels his stomach twist. He doesn’t like the way Sakusa was so easy to dismiss himself. “Well, maybe they just don’t know you very well.”
Sakusa raises an eyebrow at him. “Miya, we’ve lived in the same house for over a year and you claimed to despise me until five seconds ago.”
“That’s my bad,” Atsumu as he rubs the back of his neck. “I never made the effort to get to know you.” His head dips down but he still raises his eyes to meet Sakusa’s under his lashes. “Sorry, Omi-kun.”
Sakusa holds his gaze for a beat of silence before speaking again. “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he says, voice low. He sounds sincere. “I know I’ve been vicious to you as well.” Sakusa’s lips quirk into a wry smile, a subtle apology. Something stirs in the pit of Atsumu’s gut, and makes his throat dry.
“No, I really do!” Atsumu exclaims, a little louder than he wanted too, and heat rises to his cheeks as he sees Sakusa startle. Atsumu sighs, and pushes his hand through his hair. He didn’t know exactly why he felt compelled to tell Sakusa something so personal, but it felt wrong to hold back his honesty now.
“Look, when we met, I was pretty upset to wake up, having no memories of my goddamn wedding and being told I have to move out of my hometown, with my family and everything I had even known, to go live with some stranger—” he waves his hand haphazardly in Sakusa’s general direction, “—and you were giving me the stink-eye the whole time!” Sakusa snorts at this, and Atsumu bites his lip, embarrassed. “I was terrified, and really angry.” Atsumu wraps his arms around the backrest of the chair and hugs it like a pillow.
Atsumu’s never told anybody about this. The first few months, he’d spent his time in complete isolation, holed up in his bedroom trying to stave off the bitter cold. No friends, no knowledge of Itachiyama’s culture—Atsumu had never felt more lost in his entire life. And he had pushed all the resentment he’d felt about his situation onto Sakusa. “And I guess I took it all out on you, which wasn’t fair. You were probably the only person who would’ve understood what I was going though, and I totally pushed you away.”
“It’s my fault too,” Sakusa says with a sigh, shifting his sitting position on the bed. “I pushed you away just the same. I’m not the best at getting close to people, and I’ve hardly had any friends that I made on my own.” He twists his hands in his lap in a nervous gesture, and Atsumu stays absolutely still, reeling from the staggering disbelief that he’s about to unlock Sakusa Kiyoomi’s tragic backstory. To be fair, Atsumu was the one to overshare first, anyway.
“My older siblings don’t even write to me anymore, but we didn’t talk much when we were growing up anyway.” Atsumu nods solemnly. It’s another part of Sakusa that he’ll never truly understand, as the majority of Atsumu’s entire person was tied to his brother in some way. “Something like marriage,” Sakusa continued, “being eternally vowed to share your life with one person—it scares me.” Sakusa’s voice grows much softer as he keeps talking, and Atsumu has to lean in closer just to hear him over the crackle of the fireplace.
“And being suddenly thrust in a marriage to you , who I had never even had a conversation with that I remembered, was even scarier.” Sakusa lets out a laugh that sounds more like a huff, and Atsumu isn’t sure if the wetness springing from Sakusa’s eyes is a trick of the light or not. “I guess I assumed we were doomed from the start. That I was doomed from the start. I’d never met anyone who was willing to court me, so there was no way I would ever be happy in a loveless marriage.”
Atsumu isn’t sure how to respond. So far, their only interactions have been sarcastic quips and passive-aggression. This whole conversation has been such a one-eighty that Atsumu is surprised he hasn’t gotten whiplash yet. He shifts in his seat, and attempts empathy for the first time in a while.
“I guess we’ve been misunderstanding each other for a while now,” Atsumu muses. “It’s kind of comforting to know I’m not the only one of us that’s been feeling lonely all this time.” He shares a soft smile with Sakusa, whose lips twitch in response. Atsumu knows it’s not a happy smile, but it’s a start.
“If it makes you feel better, I hardly have any experience in relationships either,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
Sakusa stiffens, his eyes narrowing in on Atsumu. “Miya, don’t lie to me. Pity is the worst sentiment you could offer someone.”
“What?” Atsumu blanches, jerking his head back. “What are you talking about, it’s true!”
“Stop lying,” Sakusa hisses. “I know that you—you’re—”
“That I’m what?” Atsumu demands, bewildered by the way Sakusa’s lips purse and his cheeks tinge with pink.
“You know—that you’ve slept around,” Sakusa finally grits out, face red and looking anywhere but Atsumu. “Everyone knows that.”
Atsumu can only gape at him.
“W-What?”
“Please. Don’t try fishing for a compliment. Courtiers talk. I’ve heard gossip about your conquests and whatnot.” The color of Sakusa’s cheeks deepens with each word, and Atsumu feels dizzy.
“Oh my god, no, I mean, I—I’ve never—” Atsumu’s face feels like it’s on fire, so much so that his blush must rival Sakusa’s by now. He shifts in the chair again, trying to distract his brain from the constant stream of ‘what the hell’ .
“You’ve never...?”
Atsumu buried his face in his hands. “...I’ve never even kissed anyone,” he stage-whispers, peeking through his fingers to look back at Sakusa’s wide eyes.
There’s a beat of silence as Sakusa looks at him like he’s grown a new head.
And then he starts laughing. Really hard.
Atsumu watches in astonishment as Sakusa breaks out in uncontrollable, hysterical laughter. There might even be tears in his eyes as his lips stretch out to show all of his teeth and he sinks deeper on the bed, stomach convulsing with each breath. His laughs are unbridled and loud, even when Sakusa brings his hand up to his face to cover his open mouth. And wipe the tears from his eyes.
“Omi-kun, this is cruel.” Atsumu’s lips twitch despite himself, because the sheer image of stone-cold and fussy Sakusa Kiyoomi just laughing his ass off is enough to dumbfound anyone.
Sakusa eventually calms down after a few minutes, but there’s still a grin stretched across his face and his dark eyes sparkle with humor when he’s quieted down.
“So if you’re a complete virgin, why do you act like such a whore?” Sakusa blurts out, chin resting in his hand nonchalantly.
“What the hell?” Atsumu jumps in his seat violently enough that he almost tips over, his flailing arms trying to steady himself causing another bout of snickering from Sakusa. “No I don’t! Where did you get that idea?” Atsumu knows he’s blushing again, he can feel it trailing down his neck and blooming on his chest.
“You’re a relentless flirt, Miya!” wheezes Sakusa, breaking out into another wide grin. “Before I even met you I knew of you, because people at court would mention ‘ Miya Atsumu, that shameless philanderer ’.”
“Is that really how I come off to other people, Omi-kun?” Atsumu brings his palms up to his face, trying to relieve the warmth in his cheeks. He groans, and closes his eyes to process everything happening all at once. “This is so embarrassing…”
“You really haven’t been involved with anyone before?” Sakusa asks, his tone less teasing, and more curious. “Not going through an official courtship, I can understand, but with your looks, not even a lighthearted affair?”
“No, I—” Atsumu blinks, rethinking every interaction he’s ever had with someone that might have been construed as flirting. But he didn’t do shit like that; Atsumu assumed if he was notorious for anything among the nobility, it would have been his subpar manners.
“It’s always just been me and ‘Samu, I guess. There was never room in my life for another person who I spent enough time with to develop any feelings .” They were the Miya twins—an inseparable unit, tied by the hip since they were born. At least, that’s how they were before it had all gone to shit. Atsumu learned the hard way that even the strongest bonds you have with others couldn’t last forever. Atsumu sighs, meeting Sakusa’s gaze with something hardened in his chest.
“Even if I did like someone, I don’t see any point in getting caught up in romance or whatever. You can’t have faith in something as trivial and flighty as feelings . Those kinds of things come and go so quickly, and you never know how you might get hurt afterwards.” Atsumu’s eyes rest on the dancing flames of the fireplace, licking the air in constant, hypnotizing movements. In the darkness that had crept into their room, the color glowed bright, burning into his vision. “One instant you think everything’s fine, but before you can even blink, poof! Those feelings are gone. There’s no point in trusting something like love.”
Atsumu doesn’t know how much time passes before he’s pulled out of his thoughts, registering the silence that had descended into the room. He shakes his head, tearing his eyes away from the fire. Sakusa studies him cautiously, and in the darkness Atsumu can barely make out the features of his face. There is only the light of the flames reflecting in his eyes, and the outline of his high, prominent cheekbones. Atsumu’s lips twist into a smirk when he remembers something Sakusa mentioned beforehand.
“You think I’m good-looking, Omi-kun?” Sakusa’s reaction is immediate, his head snapping to glare at Atsumu.
“That—that’s not what I said!” Sakusa yells, face reddening again. He huffs, crossing his arms. “This might be groundbreaking information to you, but besides your objectively tolerable features, you have very few redeeming qualities. Don’t flatter yourself.”
Atsumu laughs, throwing his head back. At least the tension between them had dissolved. “You’re actually kind of funny, Omi-kun.”
“That’s not a compliment coming from you,” Sakusa deadpans.
Atsumu shifts in his seat again, a thought brewing in the back of his mind. He’s been uncharacteristically candid tonight, so he supposes there’s no hurt in letting one more thing slip out. He brings his arms up and folds them over the top of the chair’s backrest.
“You know, you must have been attracted to something about me before. We did end up married.”
Sakusa stills, and his shoulders tighten. Atsumu tracks the movement of his jaw, working twice before he swallows.
“I suppose you could say that,” he says, voice cautious.
“Do you ever think about it?” Atsumu prompts. “What was the reason that we fell in love?”
“Why would I? There’s no point. Obviously whatever it was is gone now, thanks to you—”
“Hey, hey, wait a minute!” Atsumu interrupts, defensive. “Past me did that to save your life! Aren’t you at least a little grateful?”
“Of course I’m grateful,” Sakusa replies, shaking his head. “I haven’t strangled you yet, have I?”
“Wow,” Atsumu laughs. “I didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
“I do have a heart, despite what you may think,” Sakusa quips, raising an eyebrow at him. It’s not the same stiff, disdainful tone he might have used just a day before. It’s lighthearted, almost teasing.
Atsumu doesn’t mention that Sakusa never answered his question. He’s not really sure why he asked in the first place; Sakusa’s not wrong, the love that they once shared was gone forever. But Atsumu is starting to understand what may have drawn them to each other. They were a lot more similar than he could have ever imagined.
The memory from his dream resurfaces in his mind. The two of them, sitting and chatting together on a night that neither of them can remember. Didn’t the atmosphere then feel eerily similar to what was happening right now? But that couldn’t be right, because there was no possible way the two of them could develop any romantic feelings while they were under the spell’s influence. Perhaps that didn’t have to stop them from trying to form some kind of connection, however.
“Hey, Omi-kun,” Atsumu starts, clearing his throat. He rests his chin on top of his folded arms and smiles when Sakusa looks back at him. “I know we haven’t exactly been the best of friends since we got stuck together, but maybe we should try it. I’ve actually enjoyed getting to know you. Just a little bit.”
Saksua smiles softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. Light from the fireplace illuminates the curves of his face and adds highlights to the darkness of his curls. Atsumu is struck by the likeness of this Sakusa to the one that he knows from his dreams, the likeness of the look Sakusa gave him before pressing their lips together like a confession.
“I’d like that.”
A fluttering erupts in Atsumu’s stomach, rises up to his chest and spreads warmth through his entire body like molten honey. It’s a feeling he only knows the ghost of, the familiarity like that of a forgotten dream. He sucks in a shaking breath.
Sakusa gets up to go wash in the bathroom outside of their room, but Atsumu is left staring at the vacant spot on the bed where he once was. Atsumu brings a quivering hand up to his chest to feel his own heart racing. He swallows, mouth impossibly dry.
Huh.
Well that’s highly inconvenient.