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“Yer obsessed with him,” Osamu accuses, poking Atsumu in the shoulder as they walk home from practice one day. “It’s creepy as hell. Yer always staring at him.”
“Shaddup,” Atsumu grumbles, shoving Osamu back. “I am not.”
“Yes, ya are. Ya got hit in the face today cause ya were starin’ and not payin’ attention. Do ya like him or something?”
Atsumu fixes his eyes on the ground in front of him, and does not respond.
“Oh my god,” Osamu says, delighted. “Ya do. Ya like him. Ya like like him. Tsumu’s in loveee with Kita, oh my god.”
“Ya,” Atsumu says, whirling on his heel and poking his asshole brother in the chest. “Shut the fuck up. He doesn’t like me anyway, you dick.”
“Jeez, alright,” Osamu says, but quiets down. They walk the rest of the way in silence, at least until Atsumu nearly trips on a rock and crashes into Osamu, who bonks him on the head and tells him to “watch his fuckin’ feet.”
__
Kita Shinsuke does not like Miya Atsumu. Atsumu knows this, knows there’s no way in hell Kita likes him like that—or at all, really. He knows that Kita is perfect in every way, and he knows that he would not fit well, with that.
That’s fine. He’s made his peace with it. But he can still look, still pine, still glance to Kita twenty times in ten minutes during every practice as if to say “Look at me. I’m looking at you, do you see me?”
He doesn’t think that Kita does. He’s made his peace with it.
Their team practices, and practices some more. Atsumu gets better and better. Spring Interhigh arrives and day one passes easily, their team breezing through every match. But on day two they hit a roadblock in the form of Karasuno.
It hadn’t been expected, not by any stretch of the imagination. Karasuno used to be a serious competitor, but they hadn’t been for years, now. Atsumu goes into the match feeling confident.
By the end of the first set, all his confidence is cracking apart. What’s left is determination, pure and simple and savage. Every set takes every bit of breath in his lungs. Every serve stings his palm more than usual. It feels as if his dreams are ripping at the seams, and for the first time in a long time he realizes that Inarizaki might lose.
This is Atsumu’s mindset when Kita is subbed in during their second set. Atsumu keeps his eyes on Kita as he makes his way onto the court, yet still manages to be surprised when he passes by Atsumu and his fingers accidentally brush against Atsumu’s.
It’s a split second of contact. Atsumu doubts anyone else noticed. But that’s meaningless in the moment as he stares at Kita, who’s set in his position on the court. Time seems to slow down and narrow and Atsumu can feel the blood pounding in his ears. Kita glances back and meets Atsumu’s eyes, giving a small smile, and Atsumu feels as if he is about to melt.
As the second set resumes and Kita sets about doing what he does best, Atsumu forgets the fear of losing; focuses on the determination to win; and remembers only the feeling of Kita’s fingers, brushing against his.
That singular touch continues to flood Atsumu’s brain through the second set, flowing freely and expanding of its own accord. Even after the second set comes to a close, even after he’s put back into the game, those long fingers brushing against his are the only thing he can think about. It’s silly, really, to let his focus and determination be close to breaking because of the accidental touch. His heart doesn’t seem to get that memo, though, sending continuous signals to his brain that leaves him in an affected haze.
“‘Tsumu,” Osamu says, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Fer fuck sake, can ya focus?” Right. The game. Atsumu looks over to see the score, to remind himself just how hard his teammates are fighting for this, how much they want it, how much he wants it. They’re dead even: thirty versus thirty. The adrenaline spikes through his body, clearing the hazy thoughts of Kita’s fingers on his. He lifts his jersey and wipes the sweat from his face.
The rally feels never ending, and the fact they lost the point only makes Atsumu’s nerves fray even more. They’re a powerhouse school, they’ve been a fan favorite for three years running, this is not how today is supposed to go. They can’t lose, not when it’s the last nationals for the third years that have worked so hard. Not when it’s the last nationals for Kita. As he jumps for another quick attack, he hears the sound of Kita’s cheers from the bench, and his hands fumble. It’s only the slightest bit, maybe a centimeter off from where he had intended them to hit, but it’s enough. The hands of the Karasuno wall reach up and up, higher than either Miya twin could hope for this ball to reach.
The volleyball hitting the court sounds like one singular word echoing over and over in his mind: failure.
__
The Inarizaki boys are uncharacteristically quiet as they eat breakfast the next day. As planned, they’re in Tokyo all week for the tournament, which means they’re expected to attend the final matches as it continues. After the previous day’s loss, though, the excitement of missing school and playing the sport they love seems to have faded. Their spirits are down, that much is evident, but none more evident than Atsumu.
Aran can see it in the way his childhood friend doesn’t obsessively try to fix his bleached hair until it sits perfectly. Suna can see it in the way Atsumu’s face is blank, devoid of his usual cocky smirk. Osamu can see it most of all, seeing it in the way Atsumu slouches, the way he plays with his food, the way he avoids sitting with his teammates to watch the game in favor of sitting on his own. Despite all of his teammates seeing the way Atsumu is so evidently crushed, they say nothing. Almost all of them, anyway. It’s Kita’s knowing eyes and tender spirit that braves the brooding cloud of Atsumu’s, silently taking the seat next to him as they both focus their eyes on the game in front of them.
Atsumu’s mind starts to wonder, kicking himself for causing Kita distress, going out of his way to sit with Atsumu while he broods over a loss the entire team carries like a heavy burden on their backs. He starts thinking of his defense, how he’ll respond when Kita asks him to join the team even though he’s not ready to.
But it never comes.
After a few seconds of silence, he allows his eyes to shift over, taking in the sight of the last person he wanted to disappoint. He’s surprised to find Kita’s bright eyes watching the match before them, with a faint tilt to the corner of his mouth, admiring the dedication of both teams on the court.
Atsumu watches the slight rise and fall of Kita’s chest, unconsciously mimicking his breathing.
Following the rhythm of his captain allows a calmness to wrap around his own temperamental state. Studying the line along Kita’s neck, down to the peaks of his proud shoulders where they meet the curve of his spine. Atsumu sits up a little straighter, following the form of the boy he admires.
Turning to face Kita, he swallows before finally asking, “How d’ya always stay so calm? We just lost our last chance for the rest of the seas-”
“As I said yesterday, It’s not every day ya get to have a match like that.” He pauses briefly, “I’ve always believed that the process matters more than the results. But after yesterday’s match, after watchin ya, I think I learned something new about the process.”
Atsumu’s eyebrows furrow toward the center of his face as he tilts his head slightly, “I don’t think I follow Kita-san”
Kita merely smiles, eyes softening as he continues to look at Atsumu, “When ya make it professionally, you’ll look back on this moment. You’ll remember every decision ya made, every new move you and Osamu tried on the court that you’ll spend the next few years perfectin’. That’s the process. But you’ll also remember the result, the loss we feel today. And you’ll remember how it pushed ya to where you’ll be. I guess sometimes the results can matter just as much as the process.”
The corner of his lips tilt upwards again, revealing the softest smile paired with the warmest eyes, “You should be proud Atsumu. Ya learned and grew a lot during the match, and yer startin to create yer own process.”
Atsumu’s vision starts to blur and the outline of Kita’s silhouette begins to wobble. He blinks furiously in an attempt to ward off unwanted tears. Clearing his throat, giving breadth for his voice to pass through as smooth and calm as he can muster, “Thanks Kita-san. That means a lot. But, how d’ya know i’ll make it professionally?”
Warm eyes stare, searching Atsumu’s as if mildly perplexed by Atsumu’s line of question, “Because I see the hunger and the dedication that takes over when ya step onto the court.” to Kita it’s as simple as that. And just like that Atsumu begins to feel a little more calm. A little lighter as he continues to digest their loss.
“Are ya ready to go sit with the team?”
And well, Atsumu is in no position to say no at that point.
__
They’ve just won the season opener during Atsumu’s debut match starting for MSBY.
He was warmed when he received the message from Osamu with a picture attached that showed one Kita Shinsuke sitting in the stands.
In that moment, he's so wrapped up in his feelings until an arm slings around his shoulders, almost causing him to lose his balance.
"Hey, Tsum-Tsum! The guys are gonna go out and celebrate! If you're gonna be done staring at your phone any time soon, would you wanna come with us?"
Atsumu feels heat rise up the back of his neck. "'M not starin'."
Shouyou stands on his tiptoes to see Atsumu's phone screen. "That guy! He went to Inarizaki, right?"
"Yeah. Was my captain my second year."
"Wow! And he came all the way here for our game? Invite him to dinner with us!"
Atsumu waves Shouyou's comment away. "Nah, I couldn' ask—"
"You have to!" Bokkun interrupts. "He came all the way out here! Unless you were planning on taking him to something more...private."
Bokkun elbows Atsumu in the side, and Atsumu groans. "Nah, I was thinkin' about takin' him to 'Samu's place, though."
Shouyou's eyes sparkle. "Onigiri Miya..." he whispers, voice hushed with awe. Much louder, he cries, "We should go there tonight!"
Bokkun laughs. "Works for me!"
"So, what about it, Atsumu-san? Bring your captain to meet the team!"
At 'Samu's, conversation flows easily, and Kita seems to fit right in. There's something different about the team dinner with Kita there, something... special. Atsumu isn't sure how to put it into words, but he sure is grateful that Kita agreed to come with the team. Even though Kita doesn't play volleyball anymore, Atsumu can't shake the feeling that Kita belongs there, with them.
Then, 'Samu's words from back in their second year of high school ring in his mind: Tsumu’s in loveee with Kita, oh my god.
Atsumu feels his face heat up for the second time that evening, standing up to excuse himself. Once he's outside, in the cool evening air, he takes a deep breath, trying to quell the feelings welling up inside him. He's happy that Kita is there with the team because he wants Kita there... with him? After all these years, Atsumu still has feelings for his former captain?
Sighing, he runs a hand over his face and takes another long breath, exhaling slowly. He thinks he's cooled off enough to head back inside, so he turns— and almost runs directly into Kita.
"Ah! Kita-san, sorry!"
Kita shakes his head. "Nah, sorry fer spookin' ya. Was just seein' if ya were alright."
"Yeah, jus' needed a second outside."
"Were ya goin' back in now?"
Atsumu sees something flash in Kita's eyes that tells him to say no.
"I'll be another minute." He pauses. "Yer welcome ta stay out here if ya'd like."
Kita nods, and a silence follows. It's not tense, but it sure ain't comfortable, either.
"Thanks again fer comin'. Both to the game and to dinner. Really 'ppreciate it."
"'Course. I couldn't miss your first match."
"Means a lot."
"MSBY seems like a great place fer ya. Team's pretty loud, though."
Atsumu laughs. "Yer right on both counts."
Kita doesn't meet Atsumu's eyes when he says, "I was hopin' I'd be able to take ya somewhere more, uh, private for dinner. Really treat ya after your debut, ya know?"
"Ya were?"
"Yeah. Figured now was as good a time as any ta let ya know how I feel about ya."
Atsumu balks. "What?"
"How I feel about ya," Kita repeats. "Always been too scared ta tell ya."
When Atsumu grabs Kita's face and kisses him, right there in the middle of the street, he swears he can hear cheers from inside 'Samu's.