Chapter Text
If anyone asks: it’s Keiji’s fault.
And partly Osamu’s, too, because they come in a pair, and between the three of them, it’s the two of them who’s supposed to have the brighter ideas.
But honestly?
It’s Kita Shinsuke’s fault. Or so Atsumu thinks.
Really.
**
(11:18) i hate it here
(11:18) why am i on fucking couple tiktok
(11:18) i cant believe im ignoring my econ class for this
(11:19) its the algorithm
(11:19) it knows that ur a single lonely bitch
(11:19) stfu
(11:20) why the hell would they name their kid virginia ashley
(11:20) would u guys name your kid virginia
(11:20) u guys wont right
(11:20) ull name them after me
(11:21) id rather name our kid albus or some stupid nerd shit
(11:21) or alternatively
(11:21) peter from the kissing booth
(11:20) youre fucking terrible
(11:22) ANYWAY
(11:22) i am in a DROUGHT
(11:22) i need [eggplant emoji] [water emoji]
(11:22) gross i didnt need to know
(11:22) and its like in the middle of the day
(11:22) i want a boyfriend
(11:22) do you guys think i should get bumble again
(11:22) i should right
( 11:22) dont u have like attachment issues
(11:23) yeah
(11:23) thats y im on bumble and not linkedin
(11:20) look i aint reading all that
(11:20) but atsu
(11:20) listen to the fucking lecture im not lending you my notes
(11:24) keiji dw im recording sir [smirk emoji]
(11:24) that sounds lowkey sketch ngl
(11:24) should i use this thirst trap [attached] gympicthursday.jpg
(11:25) or this [attached] suitformal.jpg
(11:25) idk u look stupid in both
(11:25) im so glad im the better looking twin
(11:25) we have the same FUCKING FACE
(11:25) anyway i searched google
(11:26) reddit says like
(11:26) use the pic with the black shirt
(11:26) kk
(11:26) keiji
(11:26) keiji do u agree
(11:26) silence means yes
(11:26) is this a unanimous decision
(11:26) i bet im getting five matches by tonight
(11:27) bet
(11:27) mcdo nuggets ur not getting any matches
(11:34) wtf
(11:34) its recit day????
(11:34) KEIJI WTF
(11:34) what chapter is this
(11:34) KEIJI PLS HELP SOSOSOS
(11:34) KEIJI IM GONNA FAIL
(11:37) jfc
(11:37) ur so fucking dramatic
(11:37) check the damn board
(11:37) chap28 sec15
(11:38) oh
(11:38) kk i have notes on this
(11:38) AS i was saying
(11:38) i want a bf
(11:38) god i just want love
(11:35) lmao
(11:35) godspeed
(11:35) do you ever like consider some people like
(11:35) arbitrarily hot
(11:35) am i ugly.
(11:35) why cant anyone LOVE me
(11:35) like. gordon ramsay
(11:35) he’s not hot hot but
(11:35) its the SPIRIT of it
(11:36) is it bc im a pseudo business major
(11:36) and everyone just collectively hates business majors even if its on the lowkey side
(11:36) bc fuck capitalism
(11:36) does gordon ramsay have dilf energy????
(11:36) i think hes conditionally hot
(11:36) he'd probably have nice forearms
(11:37) im getting hungry
(11:37) im in the caf they have pesto and lasange
(11:38) what r yall getting
(11:38) when r u guys getting out
(11:38) i have a 3 hr lunch
(11:40) dunno in half hour i think maybe 45
(11:40) lasange 4 me
(11:40) hey babe
(11:40) pesto for me ily
(11:42) kk
(12:04) do u guys ever think about dropping out
(12:05) bc like
(12:05) i cld be a twitch streamer rn
(12:05) or like a youtuber
( 12:07) when does the pain END im so sick of transes
(12:07) Miya Atsumu sent a thumbs up.
(12:20) holy shit
(12:15) pay up samu
(12:15) i got a match
(12:15) wait nvm
(12:15) wtf is my music taste that bad
(12:15) whats wrong with nct
(12:20) LMFAOOOOOOOOO
(12:20) YOU DID NOT FUCKING PUT KPOP ON YOUR BUMBLE
(12:20) this is why ur single
(12:20) its well deserved if u had nct on ur profile
(12:20): you literally have a bts poster???
(12:20): youre playing bts RN spotify dont lie
(12:21): yes but i dont associate with kpop irl
(12:21): kpop… [vomit emoji]
(12:22) seconded tbh
(12:34) anyway babe
(12:34) atsu and i r otw we’re just passing by econ dept to get smth
(12:45) AHAHAHAHAHAHA
(12:45) FUCK
(12:45) ATSUMU HAHAHAHA
(12:45) HIS FUCKING FACE
(12:45) PRICELESS
(12:47) ???
(12:47) what did my brother do
(12:47) is it stupid
(12:47) ofc it is
(12:47) anyway
(12:47) where tf are yall
(12:47) im eating ur food
( 12:50) keiji im going to kill you
(12:50) what the FUCK
(12:50) im losing my SHIT
(12:50) im so
(12:51) im so fucking embarrassing
(12:51) FUCK
(12:51) MY
(12:51) LIFE
(12:52) keiji i hate you
(12:52) but i suppose i should
(12:52) idk??? thank you??
(12:52) what
(12:53) i just found him
(12:54) the love of my life
(12:55) [sparkles] love at first sight [sparkles]
(12:55) bc of YOU
(12:55) keiji i love u
(1:00) would a stranger still find me h*t if i spilled their coffee on them
(1:05) srry no
(1:07) no <3
**
Miya Atsumu doesn’t have good days.
Keiji likes to blame his existential misery on his Albert Camus phase back when he was fourteen and far too pretentious for his own good, but really, it’s because he’s double-majoring in data science and applied mathematics in finance and business.
No one comes out sane with an eighty-hour workload of spreadsheets, coding, and defending the merits of colonialism and imperialism in profitable marketing. Atsumu considers himself fairly lucky to only have an absence of good days, really.
But as far as his regular miserable weeks go, today was peculiarly okay. He only had two short lectures that morning, three surprise quizzes instead of the usual six, and some unfinished problem sets left for that day. His last professor even dismissed them an hour early!
So Atsumu is positively thriving, thank fuck, which he thinks is finally well-deserved after he ridiculously embarrassed himself in front of the cutest man alive earlier that week.
And then he enters their campus cafe, which is fucking crammed with students. By all means it shouldn’t be because it’s barely two in the afternoon and almost none of the other classes should end that early to have people already working in his campus spot, but. Well.
No good days for him.
He orders a caramel macchiato and finds an empty table in the worst corner of the room, conveniently under the dripping air conditioning machine, and gives himself five minutes maximum to brood. He manages to ignore the mildew of the air conditioner, the terrible lighting, the horrible reception at his table, and only looks up longingly at his table on the other side of the room five times the entire time he worked.
An entire half-hour.
Atsumu misses his table by the large windows, with the fastest Wi-Fi connection in the entire store and the warm sunlight that helps him pretend he’s living a productive student life. He’s miserable in this stupid corner but he’s finished with his accountancy problem set and edited his part in their group literature review, so it’s not so bad. Maybe. He thinks he might be finally getting into his groove, even if it’s in the shittiest place in the entire cafe.
Then his laptop dies on him.
Fucking hell.
If he were less of a bastard, Atsumu would’ve just left for a different study spot. But he’s not, so he sits at his stupid table cursing his stupid luck and this stupid cafe and his stupid laptop and his shitty groupmates who just texted him they’re busy when they’re clearly on their way to a party as they posted on their Instagram story. He glares at the rest of the cafe, scanning the room for an open outlet, and when he accidentally makes eye contact with a freshman who visibly withers at his frown, Atsumu’s mood worsens.
His day becomes exponentially shitty from bad when he sees his second favorite spot—a long, shared table, also by the windows, overlooking the campus grounds, because he’s dramatic like that—occupied. By one person. Both electrical outlets by the table are also currently being used by the same fucking person, who’s charging their laptop and their fucking phone.
You absolute prick, Atsumu thinks, almost viciously.
He tries to be nice, most of the time, but really, what kind of asshole does that? Wasn’t it universal coffee-shop-workspace-library etiquette to not fucking hog the tables and outlets, especially when it’s so obviously meant to be shared? God, the nerve of some people.
Atsumu ignores his readings and his dead laptop in favor of glaring into the back of the person’s head, clicking his teeth in irritation. He should really just leave the damn cafe and head to the fucking library. He tries to calm down by scrolling through his Twitter timeline and all he sees are dumb takes about reverse racism or something, again, and his day is just turning downright miserable, at this point.
Atsumu is indignant and annoyed and pissed-off and so terribly bored, too, so he scribbles out a non-threatening message on his heart-shaped sticky note.
Hi, I’m glad you’re charging your laptop and phone so well. Keep sharing!
PS Hope you’re enjoying your large as fuck table as well :)
By his luck, the person stands up and heads to the counter. Atsumu gets up and hurries to the table, and places the sticky note beside the sleek laptop with much more force than necessary.
When he returns to his shitty table he feels fractionally better and less bored. Except he’s still miserable because for some reason the dripping of the air conditioner worsens and actually splashes him, god knows how, and it’s just so disgusting.
The person still hasn’t returned to their table, so Atsumu sighs in defeat and starts packing his things. He’s about to leave when he notices the person from earlier unplugging their phone from the outlet and fixing their things to one side of the table, finally leaving space for another person. They look around the room, holding Atsumu’s note, and he feels briefly triumphant.
Instead of leaving, Atsumu heads to the table.
“Hi, can I share the table with you?” He says sweetly, except he’s not very good at hiding the catty undertone of it, so it comes out bitchy and vindictive and not at all friendly.
“Sure, go ahead,” The stranger says, but Atsumu’s already placing and arranging his things on his side of the table before the person finishes. He ducks under the table to plug his laptop charger and when he gets up he’s blindsided.
The stranger is gorgeous.
Atsumu has known this, of course, since that fateful moment he bumped into him outside the Economics department and spilled the person’s coffee all over the floor—but up close, this close ?
He’s gorgeous. Undeniably so. Just like that, his anger pretty much dissipates, vanishes into nothing more but muted awe. And there’s something about the glint in his eyes that tells Atsumu he’s most probably more composed than Atsumu can even dream of being. He’s not smiling, not exactly—the stranger has the oddest sort of smirk on his face, like he knows exactly what Atsumu’s thinking.
He shakes his head, brushing the silvery strands of his bangs away from his eyes. His lips quirk slightly as Atsumu continues to gape at him, and it makes Atsumu think that maybe he does know exactly what he’s thinking.
“Coffee guy,” Atsumu says coolly. He’s trying to play it cool, really, but he’s also quite distracted by man’s composure, his neat handwriting on the notebook sprawled out on their table, and absolutely everything about him.
“Coffee guy?” A quirked eyebrow.
“I’m not sure if you remember,” Atsumu says, “but I bumped into you the other week at the Econ department and spilled your coffee. I never got your name. Really sorry about coffee, by the way.”
The man laughs. He has very contagious laughter, Atsumu realizes, full but not boisterous, and it fits him so well, the kind of laughter that makes him vaguely insecure about his own, because oh god, what if I sound like a fucking banshee next to him?
“It’s all good,” The man says, with a grin so soft Atsumu wants to fucking combust, “The name’s Kita Shinsuke.”
“Nice to meet you,” And he shakes hands well too. His hand, Christ. “I’m Miya Atsumu.”
“I assume this note is from you?” Kita raises an eyebrow, holding the heart-shaped sticky note between his fingers.
“You deserved that,” Atsumu says bluntly. “You were taking up the entire space.”
Kita laughs again.
“My bad, my bad. I didn’t quite notice. Got too into all of this,” he waves over his notes and laptop, “Far too many deadlines coming up this week.”
Atsumu peers curiously over his notes, on the other side of the table. They’re meticulously color-coordinated, so he figures it’s probably pre-med. “What are you studying, anyway?”
“Psychology,” Kita says, flipping through a clear book. “But I’m minoring in Management Econ.”
Not quite pre-med. But he’s smart, too. They still make men like him?
Atsumu whistles, “That’s impressive.”
“It’s no problem, really,” Kita shrugs nonchalantly. His lips are slightly quirked, though, and Atsumu thinks that on others that sort-of-smirk would’ve looked arrogant but on him, it’s ridiculously attractive.
“Though you’re not one to comment, are you?” Kita asks, looking up from his notes to eye him, and his gaze truly hits Atsumu at full force, like he’s in 8th grade again, and realizes he’s incredibly gay because of Rafael Nadal. “I heard your degree program is insanely hard too, no?”
“Heard it from whom?”
“Your brother,” Kita waves his hand, “He talks a lot about you.”
“You know Osamu?” Atsumu tries not to be surprised.
“Who doesn’t?” Kita blinks at him as he tries to shrug off the familiar sinking feeling of cold down his spine. It’s always Osamu. Osamu Osamu Osamu. “I have some management classes with him.”
“He didn’t slander me or anything, right?”
“Not at all,” Kita laughs, and it eases the knot in Atsumu’s chest. “So what exactly are you studying? You look like a Physics major.”
“No way,” Atsumu shakes his head, shifting his laptop to show Kita his screen, gesturing to the code he’s working on. “I’m doing data science and applied mathematics in finance and business.”
Kita lifts his eyebrows slightly, “And you’re calling me impressive.”
Atsumu only barely blushes.
They both settle into their work easily, typing away at their own laptops. Atsumu gets in about an hour, a bit more than that, of work in, until he gives up his pretense of working and lets his eyes wander.
By all means, Atsumu should’ve been more productive, but he’s also incredibly distracted by Kita in front of him. He tries not to notice Kita’s fingers when the said person plays with his pen tries not to notice the way his bottom lip slightly juts out when he bites the tip of the said pen, tries not to notice the way his hand flexes when he runs his fingers through his hair and it’s—
God, Kita is fucking impossible.
Atsumu tries not to stare. Really. He forces himself to type a few lines of code every five minutes, even when he’s a hundred and ten percent sure the few lines he’s adding will absolutely result in some kind of error when he runs his program. His eyes just seem to naturally gravitate to Kita, to the soft tufts of hair above his forehead, the crinkle in between his brows, and it kind of hits him then that Kita is so out of his league.
He can already hear Osamu telling him so.
“Is there something on my face?”
Atsumu blinks. “What?"
“You’ve been staring at me,” Kita says, head cocked to the side curiously, “For the last three minutes. Is everything okay?”
“Oh,” Atsumu says, somewhat sheepish, “Everything’s fine. Just thinking about something, that’s all.”
Kita hums as he starts arranging his notes, packing them into his bag.
“You’re going ahead?”
“Yeah,” he says, “I have another lecture to catch in a few.”
“Good luck,” Atsumu chuckles, finally tearing his eyes away from Kita and back to his laptop. Kita finishes fixing his things. When he pauses, Atsumu can feel his gaze on him, somehow.
“Are you part of any orgs, Atsumu?”
God, the way he said his name . Atsumu wants to curl into a ball and scream.
“Not really,” he answers, frowning slightly. Feigning composure. “Just the finance home org, but I’m not active in it. I mostly work and assist professors for my extracurriculars. Why’d you ask?”
Kita eyes him critically, and there’s an assessing, appraising glint in his gaze that Atsumu can’t bring himself to flinch away from. It’s vaguely… threatening, but not quite so.
Then he smiles assuringly. Like he's hiding something. Like he knows something Atsumu doesn’t.
“Nothing,” he says, “I just think you’d fit right in with some.”
He stands up to leave, and before Atsumu can think over what the hell he’s about to do, he’s already blurted out the words.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
Kita looks back at him, surprised and apologetic. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to go.”
Atsumu shakes his head, “No, I mean, some other time, if you’d like. I want to make up for the coffee I spilled on you last week.”
“I told you we’re all good on that,” Kita chuckles, soft and bright, “But if you insist, I’m not going to say no.”
“Then you can hold me to it.”
Kita waves at him as he leaves, and when Atsumu finally rests his hand back down on the table, he can barely breathe. Hell, Atsumu can’t think. Something like arousal and attraction and innocent curiosity and sheer interest floats in his mind and his throat and he’s a hundred percent sure his hands aren’t shaking because of his coffee and—
It’s like Kita went and brought his fucking brain with him.
He’s so fucking whipped. Keiji is going to have a field day with him.
**
@akaashi_kei posted a new story.
STORY CAPTION: planning sesh 1~
[It’s golden hour. Akaashi is filming the sunset from inside one of the school’s student rooms, through the large glass windows that overlook the main grounds. The sunset fills the rest of the room in warm, orange light and Akaashi moves his camera and captures the other occupants in the room. Osamu’s lying down on one of the red couches, working on his laptop perched on his stomach, and there’s someone asleep on the center table, unrecognizable save for the tufts of orange hair peeking out from under the hood of his jacket.
“Say hi,” Keiji says, from behind the camera. Osamu looks up from his work to smile in his direction, “Hi, welcome to Akaashi’s vlog, please like and subscribe and--”
“Shut up, Samu.”
The person on the table doesn’t stir.
The camera pans further to the other side of the room. Shinsuke stands in front of the whiteboard wall, deep in thought. He adds a point to the already-long list written on one of the whiteboard panels and turns to the large hierarchy diagram just beside it, thinking.
“Kita, say hi to your fans.”
Shinsuke turns to the camera, waving. Something about the light in the room shifts and he’s bathed in the last dregs of the sunset, the warmth glinting off his silver hair.
The story ends.]
(18:00) keiji you
(18:00) you are a TRAITOR
(18:02) ??
(18:02) what did I do?
(18:03) I can’t believe you
(18:03) u knew KITA???
(18:03) i can’t believe he’s on your ig story
(18:03) AND WITH MY BROTHER TOO
(18:03) I WAS PINING FOR A WHOLE WEEK
(18:03) and you didn’t tell me <//3 not even his name
(18:03) you didn’t know his name??
(18:04) doesn’t everyone know kita though
(18:04) he’s like
(18:04) majoring in orgs minoring in acads or something
(18:06) i hate you both
(18:06) i can’t believe you both knew someone
(18:06) THAT CUTE
(18:06) and didn’t tell me
(18:07) because everyone knows him?
(18:07) he’s always mentioned in the school freedom wall…
(18:08) wait
(18:08) so you mean to say
(18:08) when you bumped into him at the econ department
(18:08) you didn’t know
(18:08) it was kita?
(18:10) no??
(18:08) well that’s embarrassing
(18:11) hold up
(18:11) so the stranger Atsumu simped over last week
(18:11) kita?
(18:12) yeah
(18:12) how do u guys even know him
(18:13) atsumu shh
(18:13) i’m still trying to process information
(18:13) you have a crush on
(18:13) kita shinsuke
(18:14) the guy you bumped into
(18:14) [attached] thinking_meme.jpg
(18:14) godspeed atsumu
(18:14) godspeed
(18:15) ????
(18:16) anyway
(18:16) how do you guys know him?
(18:16) ik he mentioned he had classes w u sumu
(18:18) you’ve met him????
(18:19) [attached] i_am_looking_directly_at_it.jpg
(18:20) yeah
(18:20) i had coffee with him the other day
(18:21) you had coffee with him????
(18:22) A DATE
(18:22) omfg
(18:22) keiji babe
(18:23) was that why
(18:23) he kept asking about atsu in our meeting earlier??
(18:23) he asked about me??
(18:23) oh my god
(18:23) atsumu on a date
(18:23) on a school night????
(18:23) where did our acads first <3 boy go
(18:23) fly high atsu
(18:23) does no one like
(18:23) want to answer my question
(18:23) at all
(18:23) im just going to assume you guys are
(18:23) secretly part of an underground fraternity
(18:23) or whatever you org kiddies do
(18:23) is that it???
(18:24) wait atsu shut up
(18:24) kita asked about him?
(18:25) well yeah
(18:25) he asked me something about
(18:25) idk like
(18:25) how free atsumu is??
(18:26) ??!???????!???
(18:27) kita i’m free for you anytime baby
(18:27) [kiss emoji] [heart eye emoji]
(18:27) gross
(18:27) but yeah we’re org mates
(18:27) well not really
(18:27) but we have a big event soon
(18:27) so we’re working with him rn with it
(18:28) huh
(18:28) core comm?
(18:28) yeah
(18:28) keiji and i are heading programs
(18:28) bc keiji has connections <3
(18:28) and I have a bunch of classes with him
(18:28) he's insanely smart tho
(18:28) is kita single
(18:29) honestly
(18:29) no one knows
(18:30) he’s so nice though
(18:30) like even his rejections
(18:30) don’t sound like rejections
(18:30) i swear i saw him reject this girl
(18:30) in our class
(18:30) with a hug and a smile and his notes
(18:31) damn
(18:31) wish that were me lol
(18:31) has he like dated anyone
(18:31) how can i get him to notice me
(18:31) slide into his dms
(18:31) wait nvm
(18:31) i saw his ig once he had like
(18:31) fifty requests or sumn
(18:32) ure not helping
(18:32) FINE IDK
(18:32) i haven’t seen anyone close to him
(18:32) that’s like
(18:32) not an org mate or something
(18:32) he only opens up to like people he’s working with actually
(18:32) right keiji
(18:33) yeah i suppose
(18:33) he’s not really close with his blockmates or anything
(18:33) so ig?
(18:33) hahahaha ummm
(18:33) thanks for the ideas!
(18:33) omg atsumu
(18:33) you haven’t joined any orgs yet
(18:33) have you
(18:33) no
(18:33) <3
(18:33) ur planning on joining us
Miya Atsumu sent a thumbs up.
(18:34) is event planning really that hard
(18:34) WHATEVER
(18:34) im doing it
(18:34) for kita
(18:50) atsu
(18:50) are you free this thursday
(18:51) depends
(18:51) why are u asking
(18:51) well
(18:51) there’s this girl in my class
(18:52) alina
(18:52) she promised me her notes for uh
(18:52) i kinda told her uh
(18:53) you’d love to meet her
(18:53) is alina the girl who followed me around
(18:53) for three fucking weeks
(18:53) after the open house
(18:54) kinda
(18:54) yes
(18:54) HAHAHAHAH
(18:55) how does she not get it
(18:55) I turned her down last SEMESTER
(18:55) I have THREE rainbow pins on my BAG
(18:56) but she’s… u know
(18:56) optimistic
(18:57) very depressing
(18:58) but
(18:58) i admire her hopefulness
(18:59) does she not know im tremendously, riduclously gay
(19:00) in her defense
(19:00) you dress like a straight guy
(19:01) oh yeah u do lol
(19:02) remember when atsumu tried to find a fuck buddy on grindr
(19:02) and someone asked him if he was on the wrong app
(19:03) LMAOOO CLASSIC
(19:05) I TAKE OFFENSE TO THAT
(19:05) what does “dressing like a straight guy” even mean tf
(19:05) bro
(19:05) you literally went out wearing short shorts black shirt and a jacket over it.
(19:05) and white sneakers
(19:06) that’s textbook straight
(19:06) dont forget the other iconic outfit
(19:06) the light wash skinny jeans
(19:07) i thought light wash jeans had homosexual energy
(19:08) honestly they do
(19:08) you just make them look straight
(19:08) is that supposed to be MY fault???
(19:08) kinda
(19:09) yup
(19:09) i hate you both
(19:09) tell her I’m busy keiji
(19:09) can’t you [pleading emoji] just dm her [pleading emoji]
(19:10) fine
(19:10) I’m not lending you any of my notes this week
(19:17) i love you <3
(19:40) hey
(19:40) unrelated question but
(19:40) if i hypothetically
(19:41) asked someone if i could buy them a coffee
(19:41) and they said
(19:41) they’re not going to say no
(19:42) thats a yes right
(19:43) bro
(19:43) if that’s kita
(19:43) you are one lucky bitch
**
“I’m actually surprised you showed up,” Atsumu says, reaching past Shinsuke to pay the cashier. “Osamu says you never reply to random messages.”
“And miss out on free coffee? No way.”
They wait for their drinks by the end of the counter. Atsumu pointedly ignores the stares, but he’s not going to lie and say he’s not pleased. He’s getting coffee with freaking Kita Shinsuke.
“But Osamu’s right, really,” Shinsuke says, running a hand through his hair tiredly. “I don’t look at my message requests that much. They’re mostly thirst traps. Not worth my time.”
“Yet you replied to me instantly.”
“Yeah, well, what can I say,” he shrugs. “You’re different.”
“My ego,” Atsumu teases. “Babe, if you wanted to tell me I’m special, you could’ve just said so.”
“You’re insufferable.” Shinsuke rolls his eyes, “And don’t call me babe.” He mostly leans against the counter, but the loud chatter in the shop forces him to lean a bit closer to Atsumu.
Scratch pleased—Atsumu is thrilled.
“How about darling, then? Sweetheart? Honey?”
He laughs, shoving Atsumu good-naturedly with his shoulder, “Shinsuke will do, Atsumu.”
They grab their coffees, and as it turns out, Shinsuke is exactly the type of guy who drinks his coffee black with two sugars and leads someone to a seat by the lovely window with a hand on their lower back. Atsumu feels the heat all the way to his neck and if he glanced back, he would’ve definitely caught Shinsuke smirking amusedly at his blush.
“I appreciate the coffee,” the said man starts, pulling out a seat for Atsumu. “But people don’t usually buy me one without asking for a favor.”
“Can’t I be special?” Atsumu teases, leaning on the table. “What if I just wanted some of your time?”
Shinsuke doesn’t look too convinced. “And you’re naturally this forward to people you’ve just met?”
“Only to the cute ones.”
“You’re serious,” Shinsuke says, an eyebrow raised. He has the most impressive stare, one that’s surprisingly just as intense and heavy as his grandmother’s disappointed look the last time he broke her china.
“Fine, you caught me.” Atsumu exhales, relaxing back into his chair. His hands are shaking under the table, but he clenches them into fists. “I actually wanted to ask you about something.”
“Which is?” He takes a sip from his coffee, leering at Atsumu over his cup curiously.
“I wanted to know if you could,” he cuts off, suddenly bashful, somewhat shy. “I’m not sure how to ask, but like, point me to an org I can join?”
Shinsuke hums.
“You want to join an org?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since you brought it up last time. Thought it might be nice to get myself more involved, etcetera etcetera.” Atsumu shrugs, feigning nonchalance.
“That’s a great idea,” Shinsuke replies, but his eyebrows are knit lightly in confusion. “But why are you asking me?
“Why not you?” Atsumu shrugs, turning away to avoid his stare. “Besides, I know you’re in a lot of them. Maybe you’d know where I can fit in.”
“I barely even know you.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” he grins, now facing Shinsuke again, “We can get to know each other, sweetheart.”
“It’s Shinsuke,” he says, unamused but surprisingly not annoyed either. “But suppose I don’t mind helping. What are you into?”
Atsumu pauses, “I don’t know. Gym?”
Shinsuke rolls his eyes, but takes out his phone anyway, typing. Atsumu figures he’s searching through his endless list of Facebook friends and DP blasts, psychoanalyzing the best possible org for him based on the cheesy spiels. Go figure.
“How about Improv? You aren’t shy, are you?”
“No way.” Atsumu cringes.
“PhotoSoc?”
“Do I look like a photographer to you?”
“Fair,” Shinsuke shrugs, pausing thoughtfully. “How about community service? Habitat for Humanity?”
“I’m not that nice.”
"Runway?"
"I'm flattered."
"Not modeling, then. Sports? Swimming?"
"I wish."
"Golf?"
"Do I look pretentious to you?"
"Actually, kind of. Volleyball?"
A stagnant pause. "Definitely not."
"DebSoc? You look like you enjoy arguing with people."
A crinkled nose. "But debate? In British Parliamentary?"
“Mountaineers?”
“How the hell do we have a hiking club in the middle of the city?”
“Why do I feel like you’re purposefully being a pain in the ass about this.” Shinsuke sighs, running a hand through his hair.
He’s still scrolling through his phone and it briefly occurs to Atsumu that he really wants his attention back on him, please.
“I might be,” Atsumu says cheekily. “But also not. I just don’t know where I can fit in, you know?”
“Ultimate?”
“I don’t like frisbee,” he shakes his head.
“Atsumu, let’s just cut to the chase here,” Shinsuke says, finally placing his phone face down on the table.
“You’re thinking of joining something already, so,” he waves his hand vaguely in Atsumu’s direction, “What is it?”
“The one in Keiji’s story,” Atsumu admits, looking away from Shinsuke’s knowing stare. “I know he’s working with Samu there too. You were there, right? Planning something?”
“Oh,” Shinsuke says, “That’s not an org thing, actually. More of a year-long event thing that I’m heading. We’re planning it together.”
“What exactly is it, anyway?”
“A TEDx event on campus, hopefully by next year.”
“Yeah,” Atsumu says, “That one. It seems fun. The kind of thing I want to try out joining, you know?”
“And you want in? Even though…” Atsumu sees him pause as if struggling to find the right words to say. “Osamu’s there too? You don’t want to start your whole self-discovery-exploration-growth thing alone?”
Was he really that obvious about Osamu?
“No,” Atsumu says, after a few beats. “I think I’d like to work with people I know well first before… venturing, I guess. Right?”
“Like Osamu and Keiji,” Shinsuke says.
“And you,” Atsumu adds.
Shinsuke scoffs, but he’s also smiling amusedly, so Atsumu counts it as a win.
“Have you ever joined something like this before?” Shinsuke asks, sipping his coffee. “Headed any comm?”
“Not really,” Atsumu shakes his head, “Some accounting for an event organized by the commerce faculty, but that’s it.”
Shinsuke hums noncommittally, “That’s still something, I suppose.”
“We haven’t actually started looking for new members yet,” Shinsuke continues, typing in his phone, “since we just completed the core committee last week.”
“Oh,” Atsumu doesn’t know what else to say. He’s… disappointed, he thinks, but it wasn’t also wholly unexpected. “Is that a no to me joining, then?”
“Technically you can just wait for applications to open, maybe this month,” Shinsuke offers, quickly looking up at him before typing back on his phone, “but as it turns out, you’re lucky as hell.”
“Come again?”
“Just checked with the core,” Shinsuke explains, closing his phone, “and we’re actually looking for a co-head for one of the committees. Fin-log would work better with another head.”
“Fin-log? Finance and logistics?” Atsumu asks, unsure, “that’s a major committee.”
“It is,” Shinsuke agrees, “and we don’t usually get new blood as a comm head. Most of my heads have experience, more or less.”
“So I’m not exactly qualified, you mean.”
“Well,” Shinsuke stares at him thoughtfully, tilting his head, considering, “I like your enthusiasm, which might as well be half the work. Do you know anything about handling logistics?”
“I can probably oversee them,” Atsumu muses, “but I can promise I’m better at finances. Financial reports, accounting, that kind of stuff. Shouldn’t be that different from what I do in class, right?”
“That’s exactly what we need!” Shinsuke visibly brightens at that, “are you any good with spreadsheets, Excel?”
“Of course I am,” Atsumu scoffs haughtily. “I’m Miya Atsumu.”
“I love the confidence!” Shinsuke beams at him, typing briefly on his phone. After a few beats he pauses, asking cautiously, “and you can work with others, right?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu slowly says, “I can work with others. I can do that.”
As long as they’re not overbearing and annoying and loud. As long as they’re you, he thinks.
“That’s it, then!” Shinsuke says, waving his hand in front of Atsumu’s face, “you can co-head Fin-log with our logistics head! He’s insanely good at managing logistics, but he’s hopeless at numbers.”
“So you’re… taking me in?”
Shinsuke hums his agreement, “sure, why not? You have the hard skills we need and you have a co-head for a reason. He’ll guide you through all of the more complicated stuff.”
“And the rest of the heads? They’re okay with it?”
“Ah, don’t mind them,” he waves a hand, “I’m overall head anyway. I want you in, it’s not like they can change my mind.”
Atsumu gulps the rest of his coffee as Shinsuke stretches his neck, and tries to ignore how the expanse of it makes his gut twist in something like pleasure and excitement. Shinsuke chose him.
He wants him in.
God, if that doesn’t set him on fire right now, the possibility of working with him for more or less an entire year—it’s enough to send his mind reeling and make his jeans slightly too tight.
“Who’s my co-head, then? Should I message him beforehand?” Atsumu asks, but only out of formality and courtesy. He really can’t find it in himself to give a fuck right now, really, because Shinsuke has his phone up again and he’s about ninety percent sure that Shinsuke is taking a photo of him and maybe posting about him on his Instagram story.
Ah, pure bliss.
Shinsuke’s gaze snaps back at him at his question. He narrows his eyes briefly, so fast Atsumu barely catches it.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Shinsuke says smoothly, averting his gaze to look past Atsumu, “You’ll meet him when we meet next week anyway.”
When he looks back, he smiles, and it’s fucking award-winning. More importantly, it’s hot. Very hot. Which, in hindsight, should've been Atsumu’s warning.
**
Let it be known, then, that the first rule in the TEDx committee is this: do not be fooled by Kita Shinsuke. He is always up to no good.
**
@kitashin_01 posted a new story (close friends)
STORY CAPTION: tedx comm finally complete today :)
[A side profile takes up the lower right portion of the photo, shadows covering any distinguishing features, backlit, but their hair catches sunlight perfectly, the blond strands thin and fine on camera. The subject of the photo is caught in candid laughter, their face strategically looking away from Kita’s camera.
It’s obviously taken in one of the school’s coffee shops. Both of their drinks are in the photo, but the name on the other person’s cup is blurred out.
The stranger looks like someone taken out of a Pinterest, coffee shop aesthetic page.]
@akaashi_kei replied to your story: why do i feel like i know this person
@kitashin_01 : because you do :)
@miyosamus replied to your story: ur planning something arent u
@kitashin_01 : i’m not! i just really like your brother! he’s very enthusiastic!
@miyosamus: yeah hes great
@miyosamus : hes with hinata, isnt he?
@kitashin_01: yup
@miyosamus : HAHAHAHAHAHA
@miyosamus: does he already know about hinata?
@kitashin_01: no, not yet
@miyosamus: that’s cruel, shin. real cruel
@lifebyhitoka replied to your story : IS THAT OUR NEW FIN HEAD!!!!!!
@kitashin_01 : yup!!
@lifebyhitoka: IM SO EXCITED TO MEET HIM
@kuroo.tetsu replied to your story: is that the other miya?
@kitashin_01 : yeah, you know him?
@kuroo.tetsu: had a few classes with him, seems nice
@kitashin_01: don’t be too mean to him
@kuroo.tetsu: HEY
@kuroo.tetsu: im an ANGEL
@tsukkei.img reacted to your story: clapping emoji
@hinatashou replied to your story : hey shin
@hinatashou: is that our fin head?
@kitashin_01: yeah, got him today
@hinatashou: he any good?
@kitashin_01: i suppose so. you should give him a chance
@hinatashou: kay
@hinatashou: but only because i trust you boss
**
Osamu’s cooking in their kitchen when Atsumu arrives home. His hands are shaking as he enters their shared apartment, jittery from his last coffee that afternoon. His day had been brutal, notwithstanding his wonderful meet-up with Shinsuke earlier. Besides, the thrill of his date had pretty much faded away a few hours after, replaced with the sinking dread of actually fucking committing to a whole event.
He should never be allowed to make decisions. Ever.
“Hey, have you eaten dinner yet?” Osamu calls out, snapping him out of his self-pity. “I made noodles tonight.”
“Yeah, save me a plate,” he mumbles, stumbling into their shitty eating area, a neon-yellow IKEA table that had definitely seen its better days surrounded by mismatched chairs. He nudges Osamu out of the way as he settles into his own rocky chair, eyes closed in the face of a terrible migraine.
“Keiji isn’t eating with us?” Atsumu asks, chair tilted back as he watches Osamu prepare their food. The bear-printed, pink chair across from him sits empty. “Is he working late again?”
“Yeah,” Osamu shakes his head, clicking his tongue. Atsumu reaches over to get his plate of noodles from his arms. “How hard is it to understand what rest is? Is it that fucking hard?”
Atsumu shakes his head at him solemnly. He’s used to this; Osamu fussing over Keiji, who, with his fifty-something orgs, had a very dangerous tendency to overwork himself without realizing it. Usually, Atsumu tries his best to avoid the crossfire however endearing it was to watch—it only reminded him of how single he was.
Today, though, their issues make him feel better. At least he’s not the only one struggling with ill-conceived decisions.
“Seriously, it’s not like his editor would skin him if he submitted on deadline day,” Osamu continues, gesturing with his chopsticks. A piece of pork flies onto Atsumu’s plate and he picks it up gingerly, “but no, he really had to submit two days early. And for fucking what!”
“I love Keiji, I love him,” Osamu rants, heated, “but I swear he doesn’t know how to set boundaries.”
“I think you should calm down,” Atsumu says.
“God, yeah, you’re right,” Osamu sighs, finally settling down, “sorry about that.”
Atsumu hums.
“Anyway, I meant to ask,” Osamu waves a hand in his general direction, "did Kita get you in the TEDx team?”
Atsumu blinks at him in surprise. “You know about it?”
“The core team heard about it, but nothing official from Kita yet,” Osamu shrugs, “are you sure about it?”
“Sure about what?”
“Joining the team,” he clarifies, “you’re sure you can commit to the thing? You’re my brother, but I don’t want to work with a head that would dip halfway through prep.”
Leave it to Osamu to know exactly what he was worried about. Fucking commitment. It occurs to Atsumu that he should’ve considered what the entirety of committing actually meant before he dove headfirst into it because of his ridiculous crush on Shinsuke, but, well. C’est la vie, and all that, but he supposes if he gave it any more thought he would have backed out entirely.
“Sure I can,” Atsumu answers easily, “and you act like you don’t know me. I don’t do anything by halves.”
“Only when you have a reason though,” Osamu says back, looking at him pointedly. The good goes unsaid, but it resonates anyway in the silence between the two of them.
Atsumu inwardly laughs, somewhat bitterly, because what the hell was he supposed to say to that?
What good reason did he have?
That two weeks ago it had seemed logical to him to woo his crush—one he barely knew and was out of his league—by joining said crush’s org?
Stupid.
Or that, upon finding out that Osamu knew Shinsuke before he did, because his brother was always out there, always moving and about and fucking involved in everything, he felt left behind? And that like everything else in his life, he feels the urge to prove something to himself, to Osamu, and somehow joining this entire TEDx thing seemed like the right way to do it?
Absolutely fucking stupid.
Both sound like equally terrible reasons. Osamu wouldn’t buy either of them, for sure.
So Atsumu lies. “I do have a reason,” he says.
“Let me guess,” Osamu starts, a shit-eating grin on his face, “because you like Shin, no?”
Shin. The nickname stings. Atsumu scowls, “Shut up, fucker. I just figured it was time for me to grow up, I guess.”
“What?” Osamu cocks his head at him, curious, his grin more subdued.
“It would be nice to branch out, I mean,” Atsumu adds, lying through his teeth, “finally start joining orgs. Self-growth. Being less selfish by joining a team, all that.”
Osamu looks at him, and for a brief moment, Atsumu thinks that maybe he managed to fool him. Wishful thinking, of course, because Osamu knows him too well, and by the look in his eye Atsumu knows he’s unconvinced.
“That’s good, then,” he smiles, though, somewhat encouragingly, “maybe it’ll finally make you less of an asshole!”
The taunt comes easily and Atsumu finally breathes. “You’re the asshole, Samu.”
“Glad to be working with you,” Osamu says, “you’re going to enjoy it, really.”
“Really.”
“Nah, I was kidding.”
“Fuck you. No tips for the newbie?”
“Honestly?” Osamu pauses, considering, “get along with your co-head. You’re fucked if you don’t. He can be terrifying when he wants to be.”
“And you’re not going to tell me who he is,” Atsumu says, stabbing at his noodles.
“No.”
“Is he that bad?”
“He’s fine,” Osamu grins, almost feral, “his standard reply to a fuck you is his address and a wink. You’ll get along with him.”
**
Famous last words, Osamu. Famous last words.
**
(2:03) atsu ur surprisingly quiet
(2:03) u havent simped in over a week
(2:03) u ok bro?
(2:04) stfu
(2:04) im busy im in a lecture
(2:04) bullshit
(2:04) ur discord status says ur playing valo
(2:05) fine
(2:05) im not in class
(2:05) and im not playing valo thats a fucking lie
(2:05) but im trying to learn
(2:05) learn what, exactly
(2:05) How To Be Attractive In 6 Days [NOT CLICKBAIT]
(2:06) HAHAHAHAHHA
(2:06) WHAT THE FUCK HAHA
(2:06) ARE U OKAY
(2:07) im going through a crisis
(2:07) which is?
(2:08) idk what to wear (crying emoji)
(2:08) to the meeting this week
(2:08) i just want shinsuke to like me
(2:10) R U FR
(2:10) its an onboarding meeting bro
(2:10) not a date
(2:11) yes
(2:11) but the point still stands
(2:11) idk what to wear
(2:12) uhhh
(2:12) idk?? whatever u usually wear ig
(2:13) I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR
(2:14) didnt sakusa like get you as their ambassador
(2:14) for their clothing line
(2:14) speaking of sakusa
(2:14) his recent match was fucking INSANE
(2:16) HIS SERVE
(2:16) holy shit???
(2:17) i cant wear their clothes
(2:17) they gave me a yellow fucking sweater
(2:17) YELLOW
(2:18) i cant believe sakusa finally pulled off
(2:19) that jump serve
(2:20) we’re winning quarterfinals this season
(2:20) ill get us tickets
(2:21) hello???
(2:21) guys???
(2:22) im getting u seats too atsu
(2:22) dw
(2:23) thank u kei
(2:23) but i wasnt talking abt that
(2:23) fashion help please??
(2:24) wait
(2:24) fine
(2:25) let me check pinterest
(2:26) FINALLY
(2:26) i can tell mom you’re finally useful
(2:27) literally eat shit
(2:30) so atsumu
(2:30) tell me about your crush
(2:30) what’s he like
(2:31) u literally see him more than i do
(2:31) yes
(2:31) but still
(2:32) he’s the hottest fucker ever
(2:32) he’s so… COMPETENT
(2:32) i sat with him a few days ago in the library and
(2:32) he follows the pomodoro technique. Like for real
(2:33) and thats
(2:34) ur standard?
(2:35) pomodoro to me is
(2:35) 5 min work 30 min rest
(2:35) HE’S THE OPPOSITE.
(2:36) HAHAHAH opposites attract?
(2:37) but u know atsumu
(2:38) productivity is very hot. very very hot
(2:40) jeff bezos would agree to that
(2:40) productivity is a lie constructed by the illuminati and capitalism
(2:41) i knew it keiji
(2:41) ur a (gasp) capitalist whore
(2:42) excuse u
(2:42) i am NOT a whore
(2:43) you are, unfortunately, a business major
(2:43) wojakcryingmeme.jpg
(2:44) so what shld i wear
(2:45) a sweater. something tight n long sleeves
(2:45) ur not a gym rat for nothing bro
(2:45) omg
(2:45) show off ur forearms
(2:46) okay
(2:47) yeah and a nice jacket
(2:47) AND FOR FUCKS SAKE
(2:47) DONT USE OLD SPICE
(2:48) bruh
(2:48) im fucking broke
(2:48) if u have dior or something im right here
(2:49) your loving twin
(2:50) ah
(2:50) yes
(2:50) ah
(3:15) thx
(3:15) im so hot
(3:15) im so sexy
(3:15) im going to get laid
(3:17) ?
(3:18) i saw it on tiktok
(3:18) manifestation is good for the health
(3:20) FUCK HAHAH
**
Atsumu looks like pure shit when he arrives ten minutes early for the onboarding meeting.
His reflection, as faded as it is in the glass mirror of the still-locked club room, is unforgiving.
Even as he tries to tame his hair back into decent style with his fingers, there’s no escape from the deep eyebags and that bleariness in his eyes that stare right back at him. Granted, Atsumu did try his best to look more than presentable for their onboarding meeting; he didn’t ask his brother and Keiji for help to not take their advice, but still.
His past week had been terrible. Scratch that—his day had been downright horrifying, with his brutal research adviser and worse groupmates, and in truth, all he really wants to do right now is pass out on his bed and wake up after a full eighteen-hour-nap
And if he’s waiting outside an empty room for a fucking meeting, of all things, well—consider him warned. The power of dick is not to be underestimated, thank you very much, even if said dick is hypothetically still out of reach.
Atsumu’s in the middle of fussing with his sleeves and pushing them up to his elbows when Shinsuke arrives.
“Well, aren’t you early?” Shinsuke calls out from a few meters away. He’s digging into one of the pockets of his bag as he closes the distance between them, momentarily distracted.
Atsumu is grateful beyond heavens he doesn’t catch him checking him out for far longer than necessary because. Damn. Those pants shouldn’t look that good on anyone.
“Didn’t want to be late,” he answers, unconsciously running a hand through his hair. “I got here ten minutes before five.”
“Rule one,” Shinsuke says teasingly, finger pointed, finally looking at Atsumu. “Everyone usually arrives late. Meetings start fifteen minutes past schedule.”
“You could’ve let me know earlier,” Atsumu grumbles and Shinsuke only laughs.
“Where’s the fun in that, then?”
It only registers to Atsumu that he’s been leaning against the door when Shinsuke steps closer in his personal space, close enough to touch, close enough to count the strands of his silver hair, close enough to smell his shampoo or soap or fucking detergent, whatever. God, how does he also smell so good?
“Move over,” Shinsuke mumbles, nudging him with a hip. “I really need to change the locks on here.”
Atsumu follows wordlessly, trying to keep the flush out of his cheeks, even when he’s obviously flustered. He resorts to fussing even more at his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. Shinsuke finally enters the room, leaving the door wide for Atsumu.
“You look fine, you know,” Shinsuke calls out, looking over his shoulder at Atsumu, still outside of the room, who immediately drops his hand from his hair.
“Really.” Atsumu deadpans.
Shinsuke’s at one end of the room, fixing the blinds when he turns around to face Atsumu and takes a second to look him over from head to toe. Maybe more than a second. Atsumu has no fucking clue anymore but thinks Osamu was right about the tight crewneck when he catches Shinsuke lingering on his forearms crossed across his chest.
“Nah, you look terrible,” Shinsuke finally says, “had a bad day, didn’t you?”
“The absolute worst,” Atsumu agrees, but he snorts at Shinsuke’s insult. He finally follows after him and shuts the door behind him closed. With the lights on and window blinds are drawn open, Atsumu realizes that the video from Keiji’s old Instagram story did not do the room justice at all.
For one, it’s larger than he initially imagined it to be. The windows in the far end of the room are massive, just a foot or two away from being a glass window wall, with the white frames sleek and clean in the sunlight. The small, built-in drawers under the windows are painted in the same clean, sleek white, but funnily enough, all of the handles are painted in bright, shocking pink.
“Come in,” Shinsuke urges him further into the room. “Make yourself at home.” He’s already scribbling away at the calendar drawn up on the whiteboard wall.
Atsumu places his bag at the meeting table, a large oval table that could easily seat eight people.
The floor-to-ceiling whiteboard he saw from the video easily took up more than half the entire side of the room, save for the colorful, open shelves on one end of the wall.
“Nice shelves,” Atsumu says, gesturing to the end of the room.
“Oh, the colorful ones? Feel free to get one.”
“Get one?”
“Yeah,” Shinsuke says, looking away from his writing, “everyone in the comm gets one. You can store your shit there, clothes, books, whatever. It's our welcoming tradition.”
“I can choose… any?”
“Any without stickers. There’s a pack of stickers there, get one and place it on your shelf and it’s yours.”
Atsumu chooses a tiny, yellow fox from the sticker pack, placing it on a blue shelf. It’s beside a green shelf with an orange crow sticker, which he assumes is one of his… future workmates. Across the shelves, there’s a built-in, white office drawer, haphazardly labelled with random dates. On top of it, a sleek printer and scanner, reams of paper, and a collection of pens and whiteboard markers.
It’s not what caught Atsumu’s attention, though.
Above the drawer are dozens upon dozens of pictures. Polaroids, photo booth prints, solo ID pictures, faded photos obviously printed from the library printers—all of them taped randomly on the wall, plastered with masking tape, colored ones, even fucking duct tape, of all things. Curiously, there’s someone in almost all of the photos: someone with bright, orange curls, big eyes, and a smile that’s positively charming. From what Atsumu can see, anyway.
“You know, since you’re technically part of the comm now, you’re obligated to put a photo of yourself up there.”
Atsumu turns to Shinsuke, who’s now leaning on the whiteboard beside a diagram which he assumes to be… some sort of hierarchical tree. Shinsuke purses his lips in the direction of the photo wall.
“Everyone who uses this room as their mainstay, war room, headquarters, whatever— they all have to put up their photos there.”
“Is yours here?”
“Of course it is,” he laughs, “but you can look for it later. C’mere, I’ll run you down how everything works in the comm before they arrive for the meeting.”
Atsumu settles on the side of the oval table facing the whiteboard, right in front of the diagram and the small timeline drawn beneath it. Shinsuke sits beside him, close enough for him to feel his warmth, but not his touch.
“There are three major comms organizing this TEDx event,” Shinsuke starts, circling the three-pronged hierarchy chart with a laser pointer, “that’s programs, design and promotions, and finance-logistics.”
“Your brother and Keiji’s heading programs,” he continues, pointing to the first box labelled PROGRAMS. “They’re in charge of contacting speakers, coordinating with partner committees, and other people involved during the event proper.”
“So externals, basically?”
“Mostly, yeah,” Shinsuke affirms, “but anything related to the event proper itself, that’s basically their job.”
“Got it.”
“Design and promo’s pretty self-explanatory. Branding, promotion, social media exposure, stage design—that’s all them.”
“Who’re the heads?”
“That’ll be us,” a stranger interrupts.
The door opens to reveal three people: a short, blond girl, who’s looking so earnestly at him Atsumu wonders if she’s even a college student; a tall guy with the messiest hair, red large hoodie, and an insufferable smile that Atsumu immediately knows he’d hate on his long days; and an even taller, blond guy, with round glasses sitting on his nose, headphones around his neck, who genuinely looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but there.
“Hi!” The girl beams at him, “I’m Hitoka Yachi, second-year in industrial design. I’m one of the co-heads for design and promo!”
She’s… a lot.
“Hello,” he says back, waving a little, “I’m Miya Atsumu. Finance-Logistics co-head.”
“Oh, we all know about you,” the dark-haired stranger drawls as he slings an arm around Atsumu’s shoulder casually.
They haven’t even introduced themselves to each other yet.
“Excuse me?”
“Fuck off, Tetsurou,” Shinsuke says, rolling his eyes, “don’t scare him off before we even start.”
“Scared? There’s no way he’s scared of me,” Tetsurou says, nudging his side with an elbow. “Right, Miya 2?”
“Right. Who are you, again?” Atsumu says bluntly, kind of annoyed, mostly because he has no idea who this person is, and partly because the said person seems like the type to be offended for not being known.
“Kuroo Tetsurou at your service,” he replies, without missing a beat. Charming as ever. “Co-heads with lovely Yachi over there.”
“You’re in… design and promotions?” Atsumu asks incredulously. He actually thought the guy would be his partner in finance and logistics.
“I know, I know,” Tetsurou sighs, wringing his hands in exaggerated movements. “I’m way too good-looking to be in advertising arts. I look like an engineering major, no?”
“I absolutely hate you,” the blond guy says before Atsumu even has a chance to respond.
“Tsukishima Kei,” he introduces himself. “Ignore everything Kuroo says. He’s stupid.”
“I see,” Atsumu nods, “you’re also with them?”
Kei shrugs, “On paper, yes. But I’m mostly going to work with Shinsuke overseeing everything because I have experience with TEDx events.”
Huh. Lucky guy.
“Okay, we’re done with introductions,” Shinsuke cuts off, “I’ll go over our timeline. This is a six-month job, but the crunch time for each sub-committee varies.”
Atsumu eyes the drawn timeline, spanning from late August of this year to late January of the next. Certain months were circled in various colors, some in red, green, or blue.
“For the first part of the timeline, fin-log should be pretty calm,” he explains, pointing to the first three months. “Paperwork, mostly. Probably contacting suppliers and prospective sponsors. You really can’t do anything until we get our approved budget from the finance office.”
“That’s your job this month, too,” Shinsuke points out, “we’ll be submitting our proposal to the university office for approval, and prepping for our TED license. We’ll need a draft of a financial breakdown for both.”
Atsumu nods. What the fuck did I just get into.
“The second half of event prep is the hardest for your comm,” Shinsuke says, this time pointing to the last three months, circled in red. “You’ll need to get all our things prepped, merchandise, kits, everything. Lots of procurement, especially off-campus.”
“And you’ll also have the monsterfuck of a financial report to submit after,” Kei adds, already grimacing. “Worst part of post-event work, honestly.”
Tetsurou bursts into loud laughter, “Miya 2 looks like he’s about to pass out, guys.”
Atsumu glares at him.
“It’s fine,” Yachi says reassuringly, from her spot on the sofa, where she’s already curled up. “You’ll have Shouyou with you.”
“Who’s Sho—”
“—Are we late?” Osamu demands. Atsumu glances at the digital clock above the door, the 5:20 flashing bright red.
No shit, bro.
Keiji’s behind him, looking halfway to murder. “Samu, love,” he starts, obviously tired, “we’re not late. Shouyou isn’t even here yet.”
“Thank god,” Osamu grumbles, throwing his bag on the center table before lying bonelessly on the other end of the sofa. Keiji only sighs after him, closing the door.
“Who’s… Shouyou?”
Six pairs of eyes latch onto him at his question. It’s horrifying to have all of their attention on him, but the twinge of sympathy in all of their gazes chills him to the bone. What the fuck did that mean? Sympathy.
“He’s…” Shinsuke starts carefully, “a really good worker. Great guy, really. He’s your partner.”
“He’s late,” Atsumu deadpans.
“Yeah, well,” Tetsurou explains, “can’t have everything. Guy’s a god, though. Insanely good with his job, pretty nice too. Honestly the best partner you could’ve asked for, especially since you’re a newbie.”
Everyone winces at the term newbie and Atsumu doesn’t miss it. Not at all.
“ You’ll be fine,” Yachi reassures him again.
He will not be fine, Atsumu thinks viciously. I will absolutely fail at this and everyone absolutely knows it because I’m the fucking newbie. But that’s alright because I just need to spend time with Shinsuke, get to know him, and get him to fall in love with me. That’s cool. Easy. Very straight-forward.
A loud bang snaps him out of his thoughts, and the door opens.
“I am only twenty-two minutes late for our onboarding meeting,” the stranger states, his chin lifted in challenge. “I am improving.”
With belated realization, it hits Atsumu that it’s the same guy he noticed earlier on the photo wall.
He’s… conventionally attractive.
Short, true, but his ginger curls are shiny with the glint of the afternoon light, tousled in a way that Atsumu knows took more than ten minutes in front of the mirror. His eyes are just as wide and charming in the photos, if not more, but it’s the flash of silver and dark metal on both of his ears that catch his attention. His smile is welcoming and charming and everything nice, and really, he’d be a mesmerizing person, if only he weren’t late.
“You’re late,” Atsumu says, without thinking about it.
He turns to face Atsumu entirely, something in his eyes flashing as he cranes his head to eye him fully. When Atsumu glances at the rest of the team, they all have their eyes purposefully averted to their phones or the ceiling or whatever.
Which. Well. It’s concerning.
“I am,” the stranger concedes, tilting his head in question, a furrow in his eyebrows, “but isn’t it rude to call out shit like that before even introducing yourself?”
“I think it’s more impolite to arrive at a meeting twenty minutes late, says back easily, shrugging, “but please, go on. I’d love to hear about manners.”
From his peripheral vision, Atsumu can see Shinsuke groaning silently, pinching the bridge of his nose. Whatever the fuck that means.
“I’m Hinata Shouyou,” the person introduces, finally walking from the door to stand in front of him. He has to lift his eyes upwards to meet Atsumu’s gaze, but it doesn’t make it any less… challenging, charged with a hardness that’s almost intimidating.
“Miya Atsumu.”
Atsumu offers his hand and Shouyou grabs it easily, casually, but his grip is tight, borderline painful. He can feel his knuckles turning white under the pressure.
“You’ll be my co-head, then?” Shouyou asks him, a good-natured lilt to his voice, kind and welcoming, a stark difference from their earlier exchange.
“Yes,” he affirms. “Finance-logistics co-head, at your service.”
Atsumu manages to give him an award-winning smile, even as Shouyou's fucking grip tightens. He refuses to flinch.
Shouyou eyes him another time, giving him a once-over from head to toe, with a smug and appraising air that has Atsumu nearly scowling at him by the time he finishes.
“I’m very excited to work with you,” Atsumu continues, still smiling at him. “I’m very pleased to finally meet you.”
Shouyou stares right at him, and the very edges of his lips curl into an unforgiving smirk.
“The pleasure is all mine, Atsumu,” he says, and at that moment, Atsumu knows. “I’m also looking forward to working with you.”
He’s in fucking danger.
Shinsuke snaps, and just like that, the moment breaks.
“Let’s get to the meeting, yeah?”