Chapter Text
If you told Miya Osamu, 17, that at 28 he would be a two-star Michelin chef, he would tell you that you were crazy. Anyone would actually. How could Osamu, a farmer's boy through and through, twin brother to an aspiring volleyball player, gain two stars before he was 30 years old?
Well, it wasn't easy that's for sure. The Miya family owned land and used it to grow soybeans, a family tradition that stretched through generations. Slowly, members of the Miya family were branching off to other career paths, so all that they had left was this small piece of farmland and Osamu's branch of the family running it. It was mildly successful, but most of their money came from his mother's job as a nurse.
Osamu and Atsumu grew up each with insane drives to succeed. It was commonly referred to as 'eerie'. Competitions between the two only furthered their motivation, and since they did anything and everything together, competitions and bets were commonplace. An arena where both boys flourished was volleyball. After their first recreational training camp at a mere eight years old, both boys got addicted. Volleyball was a drug and they were willing to do anything if it meant one more set, one more spike, one more win.
Osamu can gladly say that at least in one part of his life, he was better at volleyball than his brother. Atsumu denies this fact and will continually do so until the day he dies.
It was only when Osamu was ten years old that he realized that his love for volleyball was just a smidge smaller than Atsumu's. While Atsumu breathed every aspect of the sport, Osamu just liked it. He liked how it felt to spike. He liked how it felt to win. But he didn't see himself playing for the rest of his life, unlike Atsumu.
It's when he's twelve that he watched the food channel. Like really watches it for the first time. It's a rainy day, late January. The day before he had forgotten his jacket to school and now, of course, he has a cold. A pretty gnarly one too. Enough so where his mother took the day off of work and spent the day taking care of her son. Halfway through the morning, after Osamu's second nap of the day, his mother turns on the food channel. Osamu's initial reaction is to ask her to turn it off because it's boring and he definitely doesn't want to watch shows made for middle-aged women. It would hurt his fragile twelve-year-old dignity. Before he could ask, he noticed something on the television that caught his eye.
It was the final episode of the season. For a show he doesn't remember if he's being honest. A girl with shoulder-length brown hair was announced the winner. She covers her mouth with her hand, and happy tears escape her eyes as the sounds of her ecstatic laugh mixed in with sobs fill the studio. He couldn't help the way his heart clenched, and the way a big grin spreads across his face.
He wanted to be that happy. Volleyball never made him that happy. Maybe cooking will.
Later that night he asks his mom to teach him how to cook. He cooks dinner with her every night he could for the rest of middle school and through high school.
By the time Osamu was fifteen, he decided that he wanted to pursue cooking as his career. His big dream was to open his own restaurant, one where people flocked from all over the country to try the food. His food .
One night, he asks his brother about it.
"Tsumu?"
The voice from the bunk above him answers "Yeah Samu?"
"What if I became a chef. Like after school. What if I was to become a chef and have my own restaurant?"
Silence. He hears some shuffling of the covers from Atsumu's bed. After an uncomfortable length of silence, he hears his brother's voice counter, "That will never happen Osamu."
The way the lump in his throat pushed made tears prick out of the corners of his eyes. Weakly, Osamu asks, "Why?"
"Because you promised me we would play volleyball together until our bodies are old and no longer can".
Ah yes. That promise. A promise Osamu made when he was nine years old after he heard someone refer to them as the "Miya Twins, the most powerful duo". At the time, the idea of forever playing the sport he loved with his brother seemed great. They would be admired by fans, frightened by opponents. They would be the Miya Twins, the most powerful duo. But instead of being the most powerful duo in their club, they would be the most powerful duo in the world.
He regrets ever promising that. He doesn't like promising things he can't follow through with.
It's another two years before he tells his brother his plans. His plans on breaking that promise. The promise that gave Atsumu hope that he would never spend his life alone. Not that he would actually be alone, but Osamu knows he doesn't see it that way.
It's late summer, early fall. They are at home, and Osamu is working on assignments as always. Atsumu and he have a routine. They alternate weeks for who gets to work at the desk in their bedroom and who has to work downstairs in the kitchen. This week, it's Osamu's week to work in the bedroom. They stopped working together back in middle school when they learned they cannot concentrate with the other around.
His homework session was interrupted with his bedroom door opening with a crash, his newly blonde brother appearing, and his voice screaming about something that Osamu could not comprehend.
"Yo! Calm the fuck down I don't understand you.”
"I was talking about potential teams we could join after high school! I mean the Schwedein Adlers are unbeaten, they are my dream team! But EJP Raijin also sounds good, and oh-"
"Tsumu."
"Have you heard of the MSBY Black Jackals? They are kind of underdogs at the moment-"
"Tsumu!"
"- but I really see them rising through the ranks! Their new members seem promising!"
"ATSUMU!"
His brother froze his train of thought for a second, finally seeming to hear Osamu's interruptions. Brown eyes stare into his grey ones, and Osamu knows. He has to tell him. Now.
With a big sigh, he calmly says, "I'm not playing volleyball after high school."
With a broken laugh, Atsumu asks, " You're joking right?", despite his brain knowing that Osamu doesn't joke. Not about this.
"No. I want to go to culinary school."
Osamu can see Atsumu's lip trembling, a sure sign that the waterworks were about to start. "What do you mean ? I thought we were going to be in this together! You promised Samu!!"
God, how he hated that card. For the lord's sake, he promised that when he was nine! "Atsumu things have changed!! I promised that when I was nine years old!! You can't expect me to never change my mind!"
"I thought I could expect you to be there for me! We are the Miya twins! Volleyball isn't fun without you, I am NOTHING without you!"
Tears rolled down Atsumu's cheeks. Osamu couldn't care enough to feel bad. Osamu stands up out of his desk chair and grabs the hem of Atsumu's shirt. "You are PLENTY without me! People fear you Atsumu, they admire how you play. And you're not the same middle school you! You will make friends, you won't be alone! And I'm there for you. Always."
Atsumu ripped Osamu's hands off of him, and with a sneer, he turned on his heel to leave. Before slamming the door he muttered, "Not in the way that matters."
The door slamming left an echo of chaos in its wake. Osamu seethed at Atsumu's last words. The stubborn brat.
It's only later that night, when Osamu hears sniffles from the bed above that he reconsiders his decisions. Maybe Atsumu was right. Maybe supporting from merely the sidelines would never be enough. Quickly, he shakes those thoughts from his head. Once in his life he needs to be selfish. Atsumu will cope. He always does.
It takes them two days to make up. Only after Osamu makes it into a competition. "In 60 years we will see who's happier."
Atsumu looked up at his brother who was standing before him. "Wanna place a bet on that? You'll never win."
"Sure." That response caused Atsumu to let loose a teary grin before the blonde slammed into him with full force, wrapping him up in a hug.
"M'sorry Samu".
"Don't worry about it".
--
Sooner than anyone would hope, high school ends. Osamu says goodbye to his brother (the newest recruit for the MSBY Black Jackals) and his friends at his goodbye party. He starts his life in culinary school, studying business on the side. The years flash before his eyes. He graduates from culinary school. He takes an apprenticeship in France on a whim. He falls in love with France and French cuisine. He moves back after his one-year apprenticeship is over. He starts drafting the idea for Âme à Table while working in his first commercial kitchen as a saucier. When he is 25, Âme à Table opens its doors. When he is 27, he is awarded 2 Michelin stars. At 28, the extra income he made with the newfound popularity of his restaurant let him open Onigiri Miya, his significantly cheaper onigiri shop. Because anyone should be able to afford quality dishes, not just the rich. He restricts Mondays after school hours at Onigiri Miya to be days where he teaches children to cook.
He's never been happier. He's also never been busier but that's a different discussion.
It's around noon when he makes the switch from his onigiri shop to Âme à Table. Âme à Table only serves dinner, so he can spend his mornings and early lunch rush hour at Onigiri Miya. As soon as he enters his french restaurant, he sees some of his staff already having arrived and prepping their stations. Here's who works for him.
Sous chef- Sawamura Daichi. A friend he met during his first years in culinary school in Tokyo. Got a lot of experience in french restaurants. When deciding to open Âme à Table, he called Daichi and they helped create the menu together. Co-owner if you will.
Saucier- Komori Motoya. Didn't know this man was Sakusa Kiyoomi's cousin until months after hire. He immediately regretted his decision. Delicious sauces though.
Chef Pâtissier + Choclatier- Tendoū Satori. A friend he made during his apprenticeship in Paris. He had his own chocolate shop, but once he got married to Ushijima Wakatoshi, he moved back to Japan. Osamu had to get him in on Âme à Table. There was no one better for the job.
General Chefs- Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro. Two men he interviewed during the hiring process. They advertised themselves as a package deal which was weird, but after watching them cook together, he could tell that they were unstoppable. Efficient but loud as hell.
Laveur- Futakuchi Kenji. This position changes out a lot. At the moment, it's Kenji. Definitely a snarky bastard who eggs on Motoya's gossipy behavior.
Hôtesses d'accueil- Shimizu Kiyoko and Yachi Hitoka. Two girls he met in the interviewing process. He was scared of Hitoka's nervous energy at first, but she perfectly fit into her job.
Serveurs- Sugawara Koushi, Nishinoya Yuu, and on rare occasions, Miya Atsumu. Koushi was Daichi's fiance and slowly became one of Osamu's closest friends as well. Yuu was a guy he met in the interview process, and once he learned that he traveled the world and only had just returned to Japan, Osamu decided to hire him. The guy knew like 6 languages after all! And Atsumu helped sometimes. Whenever Osamu needed some extra help on a busy night, his brother was always willing to step in. He was surprisingly good at this job, although Osamu would never tell him.
At the moment, everyone except for Kenji, the hostesses, and the waiters are here as expected. Osamu's voice booms over the clatter of pots and pans being reorganized, and ingredients being pulled out of the pantry for easy access come opening time. "Hey guys!"
Five pairs of eyes land on him as they unanimously say "Good afternoon Osamu!"
There's a reputation for the work environment that comes along with working in a professional kitchen. Lots of yelling, disturbing chaos. Chefs are known to be hot-headed and loud. Osamu would be lying if he said he didn't fall under that description. But he didn't want his kitchen to be like that. He understood that he was their boss, and expected to be respected, but all of the formalities commonly associated with his position were ones he detested. He didn't like being called "Chef Miya" by his fellow chefs, so he instituted a rule. They call him Osamu. Nothing more. And he treats them with the same level of respect. Whatever name they would like to be called is the name the whole kitchen uses.
"Okay, so we do have some news regarding tonight's clientele."
"Oh please spill", Issei jested in a sing-songy voice.
His counterpart followed in a fake whiny voice, "We just HAVE to know monsieur!"
Their jabs were quickly extinguished by Daichi's booming voice. "Oi! Quit it!"
Osamu gratefully looked over at the sous chef, then continued with his announcement. "As some of you might know, the rock star Semi Eita will be present along with his band. If we serve them well like we always should be doing , it can be great publicity for Âme à Table. Understood?"
Shouts of "Yes sir!" fill the kitchen before Osamu makes his way to his office. Before closing the door he hears Motoya say "I love when he uses his French accent." Osamu could only chuckle as the door behind him clicks as it closes.
Switching on the lights, his office gleams warmly. Clean, just how he always likes it. A few photos line the walls and sit in photo frames on his desk. Some of him and his brother, one at his brother's wedding, some of France. They never fail to lighten his mood. Today he picks up the one on his desk. It's the one from the wedding. They smile at the camera, Osamu's arm wrapped around Atsumu's shoulders just like every other picture they've taken together. Atsumu wears his white suit, and his blonde hair (that luckily looks way better than high school thanks to the toner) sits perfectly across his face in waves. In the background, his husband Kiyoomi stares at the pair, a small smile evident on his features. It's cute, Osamu must admit.
But, he should probably stop looking at it and start looking at some finance forms. Osamu doesn't start any kitchen work until around an hour before opening, which is at 5:30. Currently, it's 12:34, so Osamu has a few hours to do finance things and catch up with his staff. Before he can even begin to look through the files, a knock is heard in his office.
"Come in!"
Daichi enters, the cool lighting of the kitchen contrasting against the office’s warm lighting. Closing the door behind him, Daichi takes a seat.
Curious, Osamu asks, " What's up?"
"Have you heard?" His voice sounded worried.
"About what Daichi? You have to be more specific".
"About Suna Rintarō".
Suna Rintarō. Now that's a name he hasn't heard in a while.