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On October 5th, 1995, Miya Atsumu came into the world screaming. He cried and kicked, and wiggled around like the act of being born deeply scared him. Eight long minutes later, Miya Osamu followed into the world, now plunged into silence. The second he was born, Atsumu knew. He settled down, knowing that he was no longer separated from his other half.
The Miya twins took the world by storm— or at least their town. It was a miracle, their grandmother had said. The family had never birthed a pair of twins before. Their existence was special, and quite the spectacle. Not only were they the only twins in the family, they were the only twins in the entire town.
There was never just Atsumu, or just Osamu. Even when they became ‘Tsumu and ‘Samu, they were still the Miya Twins . They spent almost every moment together, shared the same spaces, and same interests. They argued, punched, clawed, and kicked at each other. Annoying became a synonym in their minds for the other’s name. Petty fights and disagreements became a norm for them.
They fought but they also loved. Anything the other needed, they would be there for eachother, no questions asked. When whispers of Atsumu started circulating around the school, Osamu was the first defender, constantly bruising his knuckles. If anyone even thought about hurting Osamu, Atsumu was there with his sharp tongue, words hurtful enough to send them crying. Upset one twin and expect the other to come find you.
Eventually the two even developed their own specific ways of letting the other know they were loved. Atsumu would leave practice before Osamu in silence. Later Osamu would find assortments of his favorite snacks laid out on top of his bedsheets. Atsumu would act like he didn’t know how they got there and Osamu would pretend he wasn’t smiling.
Osamu got into the habit of never cooking for himself. If he ever made anything, it would be doubled. At some point the dynamic shifted slightly. Atsumu would join him whenever he cooked to wash and chop anything that needed preparation to cook. At first they worked mostly in silence, occasionally gossiping about Kita, mocking something Suna said, or plotting how they were going to terrorize Aran next. One day Atsumu introduced music to fill the silence and they found themselves dancing around the kitchen. Wooden spoons became microphones. Rice and flour would sometimes go flying into the air, flung haphazardly as they shouted lyrics to the music at the top of their lungs. Cooking together became a ritual after that.
Their motto was that if they had nobody else, they always had each other. Nothing could change that. The Miya twins had a bond that was sempiternal, one that would never be broken.
Until it was.
Two days after their 18th birthday, the world started to scream. Nobody expected such a harsh change in the climate, despite warnings from scientists for years . To say that almost half of the world's population would die in their lifetime was bizarre, way too unbelievable for anyone to believe.
It started with the world catching fire. Drier, hot climates were engulfed in flames. Thick, black smoke rolled through the air, choking anyone in its path. Atsumu remembers seeing the news with his brother on the T.V. Some place in America had been the first to suffer, already suffering from wildfires.
“Turn tha’ shit off ‘Tsumu, it’s depressin’.” Osamu had commented, gazing away from the awful images.
Atsumu couldn’t turn it off. His eyes were glued to the news as the beginnings of anxiety crept into his mind. What if that was us?
Osamu eventually reached over to snatch up the remote himself, placing a hand on his shoulder to ground him. Atsumu didn’t even notice he had been staring into space.
“Do ya think that’ll happen here?”
“No, ya scrub. It’s not dry ‘nough here t’ light up. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
Then came the blizzards. Part of the world burned to ashes while another part froze over. People suddenly didn’t have access to food. Water pipes were exploding from the cold, people’s power went out, freezing them in their homes. Japan hadn’t been in the affected zones yet.
There was a worldwide effort to provide relief to the affected countries. Clothes and food donations, evacuations, medical relief. Leaders hadn’t done anything to prevent the disasters, so they worked on damage control instead. For most people, the effort was in vain, the amount of people dying was overwhelming the amount of helping hands available.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the Tsunami hit. The day giant waves poured into the country, it was raining. Rain started to flood the streets, and lightning cracked through the sky. One moment they were simply sitting through a bad storm, and the next their house was plunged into darkness.
Atsumu remembers the confusion on Osamu’s face. The storm was bad, but not bad enough that the power should have gone out.
“I’ll go open th’ blinds for some light.” Atsumu assured him, quickly moving to the single window in their bedroom.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t move a muscle at all. Time slowed as he begged himself to say something. Warn Osamu! Move away from the fucking window! Get Osamu out of there!
Be a good big brother.
The glass broke. Water from the tsunami rushed into the room filling it faster than either twin could react. Osamu jumped up from the bed immediately.
“Wha’ th’ fuck!” he screamed in shock.
Atsumu was finally brought back into himself. The water was already at their waists. There was no more time to waste as he grabbed the younger twin’s hand. “We need to get to the roof!” he shouted over the rush of the wave.
They struggled to move towards their door, and the second Atsumu pulled on the handle, the door smacked into him. He lost his balance at the sudden hit, more water poured into the room and sent him under.
This is it. We’re going to die, and there’s nothing I can do to protect him .
The pain of water filling his lungs was nothing in comparison to the pain of leaving Osamu to deal with this on his own. He desperately thrashed, trying to force himself back upright. His vision was blurry and stung in the murky water. He distantly wondered how many lives the wave claimed before it got to his.
Strong hands wrapped their way around one of him arms and pulled . Just as quickly as he went under, he gasped in a stuttering breath. Then felt those same hands hitting his back as he coughed water out of his mouth.
Once his vision cleared he was met with the sight of his brother. Osamu, who never wore his emotions on his face. Atsumu could tell that his face was wet from tears as he openly sobbed, his vice grip on Atsumu’s arm leaving bruises.
Osamu was saying something to him, but Atsumu’s ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. Instead he tried to make sense of muffled noises before Osamu made a face of frustration and tugged Atsumu out of the door instead. The water was now up to their chests.
They swam to the end of the hallway, to the window at the end of the hall. If they could make it out of this window, there was a ladder attached to the wall outside of it. Something Atsumu remembered vividly from their childhood.
When the twins were around ten years old, they had a space phase. At the time, they would go and sneak up to the roof to watch the stars and speculate about extraterrestrial beings. The climb was always risky, when their parents found out their mom yelled at them for hours about how stupid and dangerous climbing had been. The next day she had their father put a ladder instead.
They haven’t used that ladder for years, but it still remained there, a memento of their childhood.
“‘Tsumu, th’ fucking window won’t open,” Osamu grunted, struggling to push it open against the rising water outside.
Atsumu noted that he could hear again. He heard the slight panic in Osamu’s voice, the water at their chins.
“We need ta’ kick it out, ‘kay?” Atsumu said, gathering whatever strength he had left. “Get ready an’ hold your breath.”
Osamu nodded grimly. “‘Tsumu,” he started.
“No. Don’t say it ‘Samu. we’re gettin’ outta here.”
They took one last breath and then sank down. Atsumu couldn’t see Osamu that well anymore, but somehow was still able to time his kicks at the same time.
They used every ounce of thigh strength to kick the window in as hard as they could, water up to the ceiling now. Atsumu’s lungs burned at being deprived of air again, but he couldn’t give up. Not then, not now, not ever when his brother was at risk.
On their fifth kick, the glass shattered. Atsumu felt shards of glass rush past him, cutting his legs and one piece snagging on his eyelid. Ignoring the pain, he felt Osamu push him out the window first. He grabbed the ladder and started climbing, making sure his brother was behind him.
His legs threatened to give out, blood obstructed half of his sight, and his lungs felt like they could collapse in at any moment. Rain pounded down on them. But all that mattered was that they were out of the water. Atsumu was completely out of the water, while it only lapped at Osamu’s calves.
He felt like crying when his hand made contact with the roof. He quickly hauled himself up, turning to reach a hand out for Osamu. He was losing count. How many times was his heart going to drop into the pits of his stomach today.
This time, he didn’t stay silent.
“‘Samu! Th’ powerline’s fallin’!” He shouted, reaching down further.
Osamu’s eyes widened as he scrambled up, his fingers almost brushing Atsumu’s. Osamu was fast, always had been. The powerlines fell faster.
The feeling of helplessness washed over Atsumu as he had to watch his brother jerk and seize, flopping back into the water. His body floated, face-down and unmoving. He had been right there , milliseconds away from reaching Atsumu’s hand.
Atsumu was silent, but determined as he went down to grab the back of his shirt, throwing his brother onto the roof. He didn’t make a noise as he checked for a pulse that wasn’t there. No sounds as he pumped his chest, trying to force life back into Osamu’s eyes.
Push after push he tried to bring him back, a sob tore from his throat as it wasn’t working.
Why isn’t it working?!
He cradled Osamu’s limp body in his arms, crying into his hair. The water was still rising, and heavy winds were whipping around him. He heard the rumble of distant thunder.
Since forever it’s always been Atsumu and Osamu. The Miya twins. Two halves of a whole, With his brother, he felt complete, like he had purpose in life. Now Osamu was gone, and soon Atsumu would be joining him.
He didn’t even have time to grieve for his brother. He had nowhere left to go. The water was rising higher and higher, the powerlines sinking under. Taunting him of his fate. A whisper of you’re next filling the air.
Rain hit his skin like tiny bullets, Astumu noticed that he was getting blood on Osamu. He scrubbed it away almost hysterically, despite the fact that it would get washed away anyways.
He gripped his brother’s hand hard. “It’s ‘kay ‘Samu,” he choked out. “Nothin’ can ever separate us.”
He squeezed his hand one last time, eyeing the water that was close to spilling over the roof.
We tried . He thought, looking up at the sky. Rain mixed with blood and tears, streaming down his cheeks.
With one last intake of breath, he screamed.