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Atsumu doesn’t get love.
From his point of view, it seems more like a disease than anything else. He’s seen firsthand what happens to a person after they fall in love.
He doesn’t remember his dad anymore, but he does remember that there were times when his mom would get really quiet. Like when they pass a couple with a new baby, or a young couple giggling under a cherry blossom tree. He watches as his mother tenses up, eyes misting before she shakes herself back.
He only asked her once what was wrong, and she had answered, “just memories.” He hasn’t asked since.
How good could love be if it hurts so much to be reminded of it?
Truthfully, aside from his mom, Atsumu has never had a reason to think about romantic love. He loves his mom, he loves Osamu (even when he’s being a scrub), and he loves volleyball. Those are the three big loves of his life. He doesn’t need anything else. He doesn’t even care much if his teammates like him. If they aren’t going to help him win, why do they matter anyway?
Everything changes when he gets into high school. They go to Inarizaki, and Atsumu is excited to be playing volleyball at a higher level. He’s excited to be surrounded by people who share his level of commitment and dedication to this game. And he’s excited to share it with Osamu. Who doesn’t like doing what they love with who they love?
It’s perfect.
Atsumu can visualize the three National Titles they’ll be getting in the coming years.
What he doesn’t see coming is Suna Rintaro and the effect he has on his twin.
Atsumu had assumed that Osamu was like him, that he had three loves and three loves only. But he was wrong. Very, very wrong. Osamu needed a different kind of love. One that Atsumu would never be able to give him.
Atsumu watched as blooms of pink appeared on Osamu’s cheeks every time Suna gave him more than a sideways glance. He watched as Osamu desperately tried to keep all of Suna’s attention on himself.
He watched as his twin, his other self, changed right before his eyes.
Osamu became moodier. He’d snap at Atsumu and their mom for seemingly no reason. Yelling at them to leave him alone before locking himself into their shared bedroom, leaving Atsumu to sleep on the couch some nights.
Atsumu couldn’t understand. He would be looking at his twin, his own face, and see a stranger.
“’Samu?”
It was another night when Osamu had locked himself into their bedroom.
Atsumu knocked again on the door.
“’Samu, I gotta come in.”
He heard the floor creaking as Osamu walked to the door to let him in. Atsumu let out a small gasp when he saw Osamu’s face. His hair was a mess, his clothes rumples, but what shocked Atsumu the most was the red-rimmed, puffy eyes.
“What happened, ‘Samu?” Atsumu couldn’t help how panicked he sounded.
Osamu let out a loud whimper before throwing himself into Atsumu’s arms. Atsumu caught him and automatically began rubbing his back. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he could give his brother this at least.
“Shh, ‘Samu. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, and it will never be okay!” Osamu wailed.
“What’d ya mean? Of course it will!”
“’Tsumu. I think I love Suna.”
Atsumu froze. But like a dam breaking, Osamu let everything out.
“I can’t stop thinking about him. I can hardly focus during practice because he’s right there, but I can’t do anything about it. Sometimes I think that he might be feeling the same way, but other days it’s like I don’t exist.”
Atsumu could feel the ground falling out from underneath him. He had no idea Suna had that much sway over his baby brother. He had no idea someone could have so much sway on another person’s emotions like that at all. His paradigm was shifting, but he couldn’t let Osamu talk about himself like that when he could stop it.
Atsumu shoved aside his own swirling thoughts and focused solely on the blubbering boy in his arms.
“Well, what are you going to do about it? Cause the way I see it is this: ya love Suna, but you have no idea if he loves ya back. So, you gotta tell him. That way, everyone’ll be happy.”
Osamu sniffed away the last of his tears before shoving Atsumu away from him.
“Yer an idiot, “Tsumu.”
“Oi! Who ya callin’ an idiot, ya scrub! I’m the one who’s helping ya out here!”
The next day, Suna became Rin, and Osamu and Rin were inseparable. It was like they were addicted to each other and without their daily fix, they were inconsolable.
Atsumu still couldn’t understand. Osamu was his twin, but he was also Rin’s. Somehow that split caused the first divide between the twins.
Their second year of high school was better. Atsumu was starting to understand the new Osamu (it helped that anything he didn’t understand got blamed on Rin), and he was invited to the All-Japan Youth Training Camp.
The only downside of this was that Osamu wasn’t coming with him. It would be the first time he’d be playing without him. When Atsumu arrived, he kept looking around for something, someone, that wasn’t there.
But overall, he loved the camp. He loved how much volleyball they were playing. He loved setting for so many different players, and he loved picking on Kageyama. The kid was so dense, but so so easy.
The best thing to come out of the camp was Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Funny, prickly, floppy wrists, Kiyoomi.
He was sharp, he loved volleyball, and he had the grossest spike Atsumu had ever seen.
“Omi-kun! Let’s practice some more!”
Kiyoomi was flopped on the ground in an odd position. Atsumu would have thought he was dead if he hadn’t seen him in a similar position the past few days of camp.
Kiyoomi groaned and flopped over onto his back.
“What do you want, Miya? We’ve been practicing for hours. How are you not exhausted yet?”
“’Course I am! But that’s the best time to practice, so when yer in a long game, yer form doesn’t suffer.”
Atsumu smiled at the thoughtful frown on Kiyoomi’s face. He knew that logic would help him get Kiyoomi to hit a few more of his sets. Atsumu knew he was just as much of a volleyball idiot as he was. He couldn’t hide it from him.
Kiyoomi sighed. “Five more sets, then I need to shower and eat.”
Atsumu laughed and led the way back to the court. (If they ended up hitting more sets than that and had to eat lukewarm food, no one needed to know.)
The rest of the camp was filled with Atsumu forcing Kiyoomi to do extra practice with him. Sets, bumps, serves, everything.
When camp was over, Atsumu was sad to see everyone go (yes, even Kageyama), but he knew he’d miss Kiyoomi the most. The only other connection that Atsumu had that was this strong on the court was with Osamu.
When it came to saying their last goodbyes, Kiyoomi shoved his phone into Atsumu’s chest.
“What’s that for, Omi?”
“Give me your number, moron.”
Atsumu grinned.
“I knew you’d miss me, huh, Omi? Sad to see me go?”
He even batted his eyelashes to fully play up his teasing.
“Yes.”
Kiyoomi’s honesty threw Atsumu for a loop. He fumbled with the phone, almost putting his mom’s number instead of his own out of pure instinct. He laughed awkwardly as he handed the phone back to Kiyoomi.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Will you miss me too, Miya?”
Atsumu choked on his own saliva in surprise. When he got over his fit, Kiyoomi was staring, waiting impatiently for Atsumu to answer him.
Atsumu thought back to all the extra practices, the teasing, the laughs they had during camp.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll miss ya, Omi-Omi.”
Atsumu could swear that Kiyoomi smiled under his mask at that moment.
They waved goodbye one last time before they separated for their respective homes.
Atsumu wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for Kiyoomi to spam his phone nonstop. He would send pictures of dogs he had seen, interesting plants and bugs he saw around Tokyo, and even little tidbits about his day. Atsumu returned the favor with memes, cats, and things Osamu did that infuriated him.
Atsumu liked having Kiyoomi to talk to. He always responded to everything Atsumu sent and seemed interested in anything he had to say. Atsumu liked to tease Kiyoomi about his love for shrubbery. His favorite plants seemed to be different types of bushes. But he also liked to hear about Kiyoomi’s day, liked to ask about how volleyball was going, and how Kiyoomi liked being on a team with his cousin.
They talked so much, Atsumu felt as though he knew more about Kiyoomi than he did his own twin.
It was months before they saw each other again, briefly at a tournament. They weren’t able to do more than acknowledge each other with nods before focusing back on their respective games.
The next time both of their teams were in the same tournament, Atsumu texted Kiyoomi and demanded that they actually spent time together.
This tournament was in Tokyo, so Inarizaki would be staying a few nights in a hotel.
Kiyoomi agreed to meet with him after their games the first day, and Atsumu couldn’t wait till he could see him in the flesh.
The night before they were to leave for Tokyo, Atsumu couldn’t sleep. Osamu’s snores underneath him were familiar, but not soothing enough to lull him to sleep. Sighing, he picked up his phone. Kiyoomi had sent him a picture that morning of a lumbering bulldog labeled “you”. Atsumu snickered again at the droopy dog. It was late, Kiyoomi was probably asleep. He debated with himself before sending “excited to see me?” He put the phone down against his chest, taking another deep breath. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed long enough, he’d fall asleep…
His phone buzzed, making him jump. It was from Kiyoomi. He didn’t expect him to respond till morning.
[Yes]
Another buzz.
[I miss you]
Atsumu dropped the phone on his face. Groaning, he checked his phone again to make sure he hadn’t imaged them. But there, on the screen, it clearly said, “I miss you.”
buzz
[Do you miss me?]
Atsumu swallowed. He did. He really, really did.
{I do}
{but we’ll see each other tomorrow}
[That’s too long]
[I miss your voice]
[Call me?]
Three messages.
That’s all it took for Kiyoomi to end him.
He climbed down the bunk and snuck out of the room without waking Osamu. The living room was quiet, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t wake his mom up from there. He settled on the couch before pulling up Kiyoomi’s contact. He hesitated for a second before hitting the call button. It rang once before connecting.
“Hello?”
Kiyoomi’s voice was low and quiet in Atsumu’s ear. He could feel a smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he imagined Kiyoomi laying on his bed in the dark, curled around his phone.
“Hiya, Omi-kun.”
“I’ve missed you,” Kiyoomi breathed out.
Atsumu quietly chuckled. “So you’ve said.”
“I can’t wait to actually see you.”
The late hour seemed to open Kiyoomi up. Every sentence felt weighted, like a confession no one else would know about. Something special between the two of them and the night that enveloped them.
“It’s been a long time, huh?”
“Too long.”
They chatted quietly about the tournament and how they think their teams would do and how other teams would fare.
“Just a few more hours and I’ll be in your city.”
Atsumu yawned, his body finally begging for the sleep that was so elusive earlier.
“Go to sleep, and it will be here even sooner.”
“I don’t think that’s how time works, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu laughed.
“Yes it does, so go to sleep.”
Atsumu could hear the smile in Kiyoomi’s voice. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
“Alright, I’ll go to sleep. Goodnight, Omi.”
“Goodnight, Atsu.”
Atsumu felt as though electric shocks went down his spine at the nickname. It was the first time Kiyoomi had called him anything other than “Miya”.
“Omi?”
“I love you.”
It was said so quick, so quiet, that Atsumu almost didn’t believe that he had heard it. But he did. And it felt like getting sucker punched in the gut.
Atsumu didn’t sleep at all that night. Those three words were circling his mind.
Kiyoomi loved him? That didn’t make sense. Atsumu would call Kiyoomi a friend, maybe even a best friend, but loving him?
It had to have been a mistake. It was late when their call started and even later when it ended. Kiyoomi didn’t mean that he actually loved him. He said it out of habit, or something. Atsumu couldn’t even say for certain that he had heard him say it! His tired mind could have made it up. That has to be it. Kiyoomi wouldn’t say he loves him. That wouldn’t make any sense.
Atsumu got up when Osamu’s alarm went off. They had a long drive, and Atsumu was sure he could sleep for a while on the way there. Osamu would sit by Rin, but maybe he could convince Aran to sit next to him. Aran would let him rest on his shoulder.
Aran did one better. He let Atsumu lay across his lap as he napped in short snippets all the way to Tokyo. He couldn’t relax enough to fully fall asleep, but he was rested enough for the game they’d play when they arrived.
When they did arrive, Atsumu kept his head down and focused solely on warming up. He couldn’t think about Kiyoomi. He had to focus on volleyball. Volleyball made sense. He loved volleyball, and volleyball loved him.
They played five sets that day and Atsumu couldn’t remember a single toss he had sent. The harder he tried to not think about Kiyoomi, the more pressing the thoughts became. He assumed they won. The rest of the team seemed happy enough. They had more volleyball to play tomorrow. Atsumu breathed out a relieved sigh. His body and mind ached from the mental gymnastics he had been putting himself through for the past twelve hours.
It didn’t take long for the Inarizaki team to make it to their hotel. Atsumu was sharing his room with Osamu, Rin, and Ginjima. It was easy enough to call the shower first and scrub himself clean. He stalled as he looked at the old t-shirt and jeans he had packed for meeting Kiyoomi tonight. After the phone call last night, it seemed almost too casual. But it would have to do. Atsumu hadn’t brought anything else. He ran his fingers through his fringe one last time to slightly style his damp hair and braces himself to leave.
“What took ya so long, beauty queen?”
Atsumu rolled his eyes as Osamu laughed at his own joke. Rin was curled up next to him on the bed focused on something on his phone, one arm wrapped around Osamu’s waist.
For the first time, Atsumu wondered what it felt like to be held by someone who loved you in a different way other than family. Someone who wanted to hold you close because they chose you, and not because they were stuck with you.
He ‘tsk’ed and made his way to the door, annoyed with the direction his thoughts were going.
“Hey! Where are ya goin’?”
Atsumu turned to see that even Rin had dropped his phone to look at him curiously.
“To meet a friend.”
“I didn’t think ya had any friends.”
“Take that back right now, ‘Samu! I have plenty a friends!”
“He’s right, Atsumu. You don’t have friends.”
Atsumu turned his glare onto Rin’s sly face.
“Shut yer trap, Rin.”
Osamu and Rin laughed at him as he slammed the door closed on the way out.
He didn’t want what those two scrubs had! They were demons!
Atsumu slowed down his walk as he got closer to the place Kiyoomi told him to meet at. It was a quiet park a short distance from where Inarizaki was staying. The trees were tall and leady, shielding him from the last rays of the setting sun. Standing by a bench was Kiyoomi, backlit by the fading light. Atsumu couldn’t see his face, but he could recognize that stance from anywhere. He hadn’t seen Atsumu yet, but looking at him, Atsumu’s worries dissipated. This was Omi. He knew Omi, he missed Omi and Omi missed him too. And he was finally standing right in front of him, waiting for him.
“Omi!”
Atsumu laughed at how fast Kiyoomi turned to face him. He was so happy to be able to be here with Kiyoomi. He could feel himself jogging to get to Kiyoomi even faster. He needed to be closer to him. Kiyoomi seemed to have the same idea because he was jogging too.
When they got within arms lengths of each other, Kiyoomi threw his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders. Atsumu hesitated momentarily before returning the hug, arms wrapped tightly around Kiyoomi’s waist. They stayed like that for long enough that Atsumu thought Kiyoomi wasn’t going to let go.
He also couldn’t find that he minded.
“That’s quite a greetin’, Omi-kun,” Atsumu chuckled into Kiyoomi’s shoulder.
Kiyoomi’s arms tightened, pulling Atsumu impossibly closer.
“How else am I supposed to show my boyfriend how much I missed him?”
Atsumu pulled back, looking up at Kiyoomi’s serious face.
“Yer what?”
“My boyfriend, Atsu.”
That damn nickname again. Atsumu’s heart threatened to kick out of his chest. He was so confused, he didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t slept very much the night before, combined with the excitement of a tournament, the happiness of seeing Kiyoomi again, and the confusion of hearing himself be called Kiyoomi’s boyfriend, and Atsumu was short-circuiting.
“Since when?”
Kiyoomi was giving him a look that told him he was seriously questioning how smart Atsumu really was.
“Training camp.”
Kiyoomi was sounding more and more unsure as he continued.
“You told me I was your favorite spiker, that you loved my ‘gross’ spins, as you called them. We talk all the time.”
“Omi-kun…”
“Atsu?”
Kiyoomi took another step away from him, looking so small.
Atsumu hated it. Hated that he put them in this situation. Hated that he made Kiyoomi feel this way.
“I didn’t know we were datin’.”
Kiyoomi gasped and turned his head away from Atsumu. For a brief moment, Atsumu could see the heartbreak on Kiyoomi’s face before it was wiped clear of any emotions.
“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, Miya. If you’ll excuse me.”
Atsumu couldn’t stand how unemotional, yet sad, Kiyoomi sounded. He felt his own heart breaking as Kiyoomi tried to push past him.
Kiyoomi made him happy, Kiyoomi should be happy! And if Atsumu made him happy, then…
“Don’t be like that, Omi-Omi. Don’t go.”
Atsumu grabbed onto Kiyoomi’s sleeve. He couldn’t let him go. Atsumu felt that if he let Kiyoomi go now, they would never be able to have the easy friendship they had built over the past six months. He needed that connection. It was one he didn’t share with anyone else. Whatever ties them together, Atsumu believed was stronger than any misunderstanding.
Atsumu…
“What do you want from me, Miya?”
Atsumu…
“I even told you I loved you!”
Atsumu…
“Are you just going to laugh at me? Is that it?”
Atsumu loves Kiyoomi.
That’s what this feeling is. That’s why he was so scared when he thought that he’d lose Kiyoomi tonight. That’s why he looked forward to each and every text message.
Love.
Kiyoomi was rambling about how insensitive Atsumu was.
“I love ya, Omi.”
Kiyoomi went deadly still.
“What did you say?”
“It took me a while to figure it out, but I did. I love you. I love Sakusa Kiyoomi. I love Omi-kun!”
Atsumu’s cheeks burned with how wide he was smiling. He looked up at Kiyoomi’s face to see silent tear slipping down his cheeks.
“Omi? Are you okay?”
Atsumu hesitantly stepped close to Kiyoomi. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, but seeing Kiyoomi cry like that was bringing tears to his own eyes.
Once again, Atsumu was pulled into Kiyoomi’s chest by Kiyoomi himself.
“Atsu! Atsu, Atsu, Atsu. Do you mean it? Do you really, really mean it?”
Kiyoomi’s voice was so small, so insecure, Atsumu felt his own tears slip onto his cheeks.
“Of course, Omi-baby. I love you so much. You make me so happy.”
Kiyoomi sobbed harder, pulling Atsumu closer, fingers digging into cloth and skin, dragging Atsumu into Kiyoomi.
Atsumu returned the desperate acts with ones of his own. He kept one arm tight around Kiyoomi’s waist and let his other hand wander up into his silky black curls. Atsumu petted and twisted Kiyoomi’s hair and clothes as Kiyoomi allowed himself to be soothed into calming down.
Atsumu let Kiyoomi pull away from his arms. He basked in Kiyoomi’s pink, tear-stained cheeks, his frizzy, messed-up hair, and his shiny, red-rimmed eyes.
He was beautiful
Atsumu didn’t know how he had missed this. His love for Kiyoomi was right in front of him, but he never noticed it.
“Can I kiss you, Atsu?”
Atsumu nodded, too overwhelmed to do anything else.
Kiyoomi leaned in and delicately placed his lips on Atsumu’s. It was short. Atsumu barely recognized that he had been kissed. Kiyoomi pulled back and Atsumu let his eyes fall closed as Kiyoomi leaned in again.
This kiss was longer. Atsumu could find nothing but comfort in the way that Kiyoomi’s lips fit against his. Kiyoomi was slow, languid in the way he kissed. Atsumu felt as though he was drowning within Kiyoomi’s kiss.
But that could also be because he forgot to breathe.
Atsumu yanked himself back with a gasping breath of oxygen. He felt slightly lightheaded, but none the worse for wear. Kiyoomi chuckled at him as leaned away to catch his breath.
Atsumu still doesn’t get love. He still thinks it’s a disease that causes more harm than good.
But if it’s with Kiyoomi, Atsumu is willing to take that chance.