Archive of Our Own

The satisfying click of keys in the door was the beginnings of a new home.

Atsumu had seen the apartment many times before, of course. But now, it was his.

Well, it was his landlord's, but he was officially paying rent, which, as far as he was concerned, made it his.

He stepped into the genkan, glancing at the pair of complimentary slippers laid on the floor above it. His landlord was a grouchy old guy, so it was surprised Atsumu that he'd even bother with that. Whatever, he thought, small victories. He placed his shoes atop a non-existent shoe rack, yet another thing he still needed to buy, before wearing the slippers.

To say his apartment was empty would be an understatement. The only pieces of furniture provided was a small bed and, thankfully, a built-in dishwasher, so he wouldn't have to lug one of those in here. Everything else, however, had to be brought in by the tenants. He had plans for the space, but all he was going to do today was sleep for a while, run his first grocery errand and then, if he found anything good, buy some trinkets to make the place less empty while he was in the moving process.

He'd enlisted the help of Osamu and Suna in bringing things upstairs, at the cost of free lunches (for them, not him). Atsumu let out a huff, patting the pocket his wallet sat in. Small sacrifices.

As if on cue, a soft ping sounded from his phone.

[mutation]

oi, idiot

u there yet?

[me]

shut up

[mutation]

prick

answer the question

[me]

yea i am

now that ive moved further im never coming to visit u again

[mutation]

thank god

every day i go without seein ur ugly mug is a good day

[me]

WE HAVE THE SAME FACE??????

[mutation]

nah, im still hotter

[me]

whatever helps ya sleep at night

[mutation]

met yer neihgbours yet?

*neighbours

are they dicks?

bc if so ur in good company

[me]

jeez chill ive been here 2 seconds

ill go say hi for yer nosy ass

[mutation]

don’t lie i know u wanna know em too

[me]

not confirmin nor denyin

Atsumu puffed, putting the phone back into his pocket. Maybe his moronic brother had a point, not that he would ever admit it. He was a bit curious about the people he'd be living alongside. He'd seen one or two of them before, but never the people either side of his apartment. No better time than now, I guess, he thought.

He left his door open as he walked to the apartment to his right. It was only a few meters along; it wasn't like he’d get robbed in a few minutes. He stared at the mahogany door, identical to his own, giving it a rap with his knuckles. Maybe him and his new neighbours could be friends? Moving out of the Jackals apartment complex (a move long overdue) left him a bit of a distance from his friends, so it'd be nice to have someone local. Hopefully his new neighbour would be quieter than the Jackals were. Atsumu loved them to death, who wouldn't? But now that he was getting older, a bit of peace would be nice. Not that he was really getting older, he was only just thirty, but in the volleyball world that's damn old, especially for someone who's been in the same club for-

The sound of a door opening interrupted his train of thought.

“Ah hello! I was just comin' by to check who was — Sakusa?!”

Atsumu internally flinched at his exclamation, but silently he thanked his mind for not betraying him with the use of a certain, long-retired nickname.

Sakusa, honestly, had not changed that much since Atsumu last saw him. Given, all Atsumu could see was the top-half of his face, the bottom obscured by a mask. Maybe the bags under his eyes were slightly smoother, and his hair was longer again, but other than that he just seemed very Sakusa. His eyebrows pinched together in a subtle-enough-to-be-easily-missed expression of confusion.

“Miya?”

The use of his name made Atsumu realise how bad this must look. Your ex, who you haven't seen for three years, suddenly rocking up at your doorstep? Atsumu outwardly cringed this time, shaking his hands in front of him.

“This...this probably looks really bad. I promise I'm not stalkin' ya or anything, I just moved in next door — right over there — and I just wanted to introduce myself to m' neighbours, but that clearly won't be necessary h-”

“You're my new neighbour?”

Atsumu paused, before laughing softly. Maybe in the years he was apart from him, Atsumu had forgotten more about Sakusa than he had ever tried to.

“Prickly as ever, I see,” he replied, a lazy grin forming on his face.

Sakusa made a slight sound of disapproval. “Way to make a neighbour's first impression, yelling on my doorstep, very normal and functioning citizen of you.”

Atsumu gave a light chuckle. He clicked his tongue as he jokingly chided. “You should know I'm not one ta do things the traditional way.”

“Right. Don't bother going to the apartment other side of you, by the way. They're on vacation.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The silence that settled between them was nothing short of awkward. Atsumu's eyes flitted around Sakusa, the quiet washing away whatever semblance of confidence he possessed a second ago.

“Ok, uh. I'll see ya around?” The slight crack in his voice at the end was enough for Atsumu to wish that Osamu had eaten him in the womb.

Sakusa regarded him with a onceover, making a noncommittal noise before closing his door. Atsumu stayed put for a few seconds, before snapping out of it and trudging back to his apartment.

Samu's gonna have a fuckin field day about this.

-

“Yer fuckin' what?”

“Are ya fuckin' stupid or somethin'? He's my neighbour.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, the Sakusa Kiyoomi, the one ya dated, is yer new neighbour?”

“Sometimes I wonder how anyone could’ve even thought yer the better twin. Yes, dipshit.”

In the silence that followed, Atsumu sincerely hoped that Osamu had passed away from shock. That would spare him from whatever would happen if Osamu was alive. Unfortunately, a hideous cackle taunted him through the phone.

“I told ya ya shoulda been nicer to people in high school. This is yer fuckin karma, I swe-” Osamu cut himself off with another chortle. “Seriously, how does that even happen? Seven billion people on this earth and yer new neighbour is Sakusa.”

Atsumu grumbled at his phone, his brother's incessant cackling beginning to hurt his ears. “Alright, I get it idiot. The universe is dunking me into a metaphorical vat of acid for being a shitty guy. Now would ya shaddup? If the situation wasn't already givin' me a headache, ya sure as hell are.”

Osamu, besides a few painful-sounding wheezes, managed to control his laughter, resorting to a few weak, amused puffs. “Just wait 'til I tell Rin about this, he's gonna lose his fuckin' mind.”

“If ya tell Sunarin I'll personally poison yer restaurant. No need to rub yer stupid friends-after-breakup thing in m' face right now anyway.”

“Fuckin' prick,” Osamu replied, no bite to his tone. Random giggles rang through the phone every now and then, forcing Atsumu to acknowledge just how unlucky he was to be in this situation. It wasn't like he was still in love with Sakusa, but the sheer misfortune of being neighbours with the guy you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with was enough to make him agonize.

“Hey Tsumu, ya there?”

“Oh shit, yeah, sorry.”

“'S fine, ya went all silent on me.”

“Ya want me to start screeching like a monkey?”

“Absolutely not, shut up again please,” Osamu replied quickly, his frantic tone making Atsumu laugh.

“Don't worry, 'm sure ya get enough animal teenagers at the restaurant every day.”

“Ya literally have no idea.”

The two slipped into silence for a moment, but Atsumu could practically hear the gears turning in Osamu's head.

“Can hear ya thinkin, ugly. Not a good look on ya, spit it out.”

“You'll be okay right, Tsumu?”

Atsumu groaned. He would take the annoying teasing over this worry any day of the week. “In case ya forgot, I'm thirty, Samu. I'm an adult, I can handle this just fine. 'S not like I'm still into him anyway. I moved on, ya know that.”

“Still, the breakup was rough.”

“The breakup was mutual.”

“Don't bullshit me, if it was mutual ya wouldn't hav-”

Atsumu cut him off swiftly. “Alright, alright, I get it. If yer done recounting my relationship woes I'd like to talk to ya about moving boxes and shit.”

Osamu scoffed. “Yer a two-time Olympic athlete and ya still have to force me and Rin to do the heavy lifting for ya.”

“Ya asked if I needed any help!”

“Yer memory's failing ya, wouldn't be surprised with how old yer getting.”

“We're the same age!”

They dissolved into pointless bickering, somehow managing to negotiate a time between it. However, as he said his goodbyes and hung up, a few of Osamu's words stuck in his head. Why wouldn't he be okay? Sure, maybe Osamu was right, the breakup took its toll. But Atsumu was a responsible adult, who picked himself up and moved on with his life. There was no reason living beside Sakusa would bother him, especially since it had been long enough since they last saw each other.

Oh well, he thought, that’s a problem for future me to think about.

-

When Atsumu greeted Osamu and Suna outside Suna's van the next day, he made a point of skipping his brother to give Suna a hug instead.

“Sunarin, my beloved!” Atsumu cried, flinging himself dramatically against Suna. “We've been parted for too long!”

“Ya saw me like two days ago, moron.”

“Two days too long, my love.”

“Call me love again and I’ll kick ya into the curb, scrub.”

Osamu smacked Atsumu over the head, causing the latter to wince and retract from Suna. “Yer two best friends show up to help ya and this is how ya treat 'em?”

“One best friend and brother,” Atsumu corrected.

Osamu opened his mouth in faux shock. “You and Sunarin are related?”

“The hell — oi Suna, I'm gunna try not to be offended by that face ya just pulled.”

Suna snickered. “Please get offended, it'd be funnier.”

They began the heavy work of hauling stuff up to Atsumu's apartment. Testament to his bad luck, the landlord had told him the elevator was out of order the week before he was scheduled to move in, leaving him the only option of painstakingly moving everything up the stairwell. They decided to tackle the heaviest objects first, like the couch and dresser. Obviously, it was harder than he expected. If he hadn't been an athlete, this whole process would have been nothing short of a nightmare. He was also thankful his brother took his physical health seriously, otherwise this moving process would've turned out to be two professional athletes and a dead guy.

On their third trip up, he caught Suna looking around at the other doors in the hallway. Atsumu sighed. He'd been around Suna for long enough, and his brother for even longer, to know exactly what this meant.

“He told ya, didn't he?”

Suna whipped his head around to face him, before sighing in surrender. “Yeah, you should know he can't keep his mouth shut to me.”

“I know, it's fine.”

“Haven't seen him in a bit.”

Atsumu caught the way Suna trails off, the way he suddenly avoided his gaze.

“Look, Rin. For the last time, I don't care that ya kept in touch with him. Yer allowed to have friends, yaknow? And so is he, we're not together anymore anyway. Hell, ya can even go say hi to him if ya want. We're finally down to the boxes so Samu and I can handle them for a bit.”

“Samu won't care, will he?”

“If he does, he really is the stupider twin. He doesn't haveta defend my honour for a guy who broke up with me like 4 years ago.”

Suna nodded unsurely. “But like, only if yer su-”

“Fuck's sake,” Atsumu marched up to Sakusa's door, giving it a sharp knock. A disgruntled acknowledgement came from inside as Atsumu spun around to face Suna. “How the hell did ya have more friends than me in high school?”

The door opened, revealing a tired Sakusa, hair misplaced. “First all the banging about, now this, what do you want-”

“Ah, Sakusa. Thought ya'd appreciate a reunion with Sunarin over here. Fucker's slackin' with box carrying anyway.” Atsumu didn't pause to let Sakusa respond, instead clapping Suna on the shoulder. “If Samu cuts yer head off for skipping I ain’t comin' to yer funeral.” With that, Atsumu went downstairs, out of earshot in a few seconds. The way his heart thumped in his chest unsettled him slightly.

He found Osamu leaning against the side of the silver van. “Took ya long enough. What were ya doin', making out with Rin in the stairwell?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Had ta convince him that talking to Sakusa isn't a crime.”

Osamu perked an eyebrow at this. “They're talking now?”

Atsumu nodded in affirmation. “Ya better not get up his ass for it either. Me and Sakusa are done, have been for ages. It's fine.”

Osamu hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but shook his head instead. “Fine, if that's what ya want.”

Soon enough, Atsumu shooed Osamu and Suna away, thanking them for their help between insults. On his way back to his apartment, a surprise stood in front of him in the form of Sakusa Kiyoomi. Sakusa was leaning against the doorway of his own apartment, his eyes locking onto Atsumu as he appeared.

“Suna's still the most sensible of you three.”

“That’s not the insult ya think it is, it's only by a sliver.”

Sakusa made a small hm, before continuing. “Also, if you keep moving stuff, can you try not to bust a hole into my wall? Don't know what you were putting in your bedroom, but it sounded like it was about to fall into mine instead.”

“Aw, did I disturb yer beauty sleep?”

“Actually, yeah.”

Atsumu eyes widened, before he burst into laughter. “Glad ta see yer still a comedian then, O - uh, Sakusa.” Warmth pricked at the back of his neck at the mishap. Surely, Sakusa hadn't noticed it. Still, it didn't help the pang in his chest.

“Yeah, comedy-central.” Sakusa mumbled.

They fell into silence again, which was not a trend that Atsumu wanted to get into the habit of. Awkward silences were already bad for him. Awkward silences with your ex, however, sounded like the stuff of nightmares.

Another moment went by before Sakusa cleared his throat. “Anyway, goodnight Miya. Enjoy your new place.”

Atsumu didn’t get time to respond before the door shut again.

-

Atsumu found the rest of his week was relatively Sakusa-free. He didn't see him when he left for or returned from practice. He didn't see him on his morning runs. Hell, he didn't even see him when he went downstairs to do his laundry. For the most part, he was fine with that, it's not like it was any different to the past few years. However, some small, insanely stupid part of Atsumu wanted to talk to him again.

Who would've thought that Sakusa would talk to him again through a wall?

At first, he thought he'd imagined the knock against the wall. The following voice through the wall sent him flying off his bed.

“Hey.”

“What the hell! Give a guy some warning before ya scare him half to death!”

Atsumu swore he heard snickering through the wall.

“Sorry, just giving you a heads up about something.”

“Geez, what's so urgent that ya can't just say it to my face?' Atsumu huffed, sitting back on his bed, smoothing his clothes down.

“Well, if you couldn't tell, our walls are pretty thin. So, if you're thinking about bringing people over to like,” Sakusa paused, the silence enough implication of what he meant. “Just, don't, I guess?”

Atsumu doesn't know where the confidence rush comes from, but before he knew it, he blurted out, “What if I want ya to hear, hm?”

He could practically hear the disgust on Sakusa's face. “I'll make sure to have you evicted.”

Atsumu barked out a laugh. Sakusa really hadn't changed at all. “Blunt as always. Thanks for the heads up, I guess. Why are ya telling me this now?”

“They're coming home tonight.”

“Who's they?”

“You'll find out.”

The silence made Atsumu believe the conversation was over, before Sakusa's voice perked up again.

“Good luck, Miya.”

-

They, it turned out, was the young couple who’d just returned from vacation. The horny young couple who lived right next door to him. Atsumu stared, gaze fixed to the ceiling as unthinkable noises emitted through the bedroom wall furthest from him. When he was younger, he might've found this kind of thing hot, but now he was just irritated. Years of work had finally fixed his horrible sleep schedule and he'd hate for it to crumble because of his neighbours getting it on. As well as that, it served as a reminder of how horribly single Atsumu was. He was thirty and hadn't been in a serious relationship since he was twenty-six, with the guy who was literally sleeping through the wall beside his head. He's probably having the nicest sleep of his fucking life, Atsumu thought bitterly, while I'm stuck here with these two fucking horn dogs. They had been going for hours at this point, stopping only to start again. What was the point of even going on vacation if you were going to come back and fuck like this anyway? In a last-ditch effort, he rolled onto his side and clamped his pillow over his ears, shutting his eyes as tight as he could in the hope that he could maybe brute force his way into sleep.

If Sakusa genuinely laughed at him when he saw his drowsy state the next morning and something far too fond fluttered in his chest, that was his business only.

-

Months went by. His routine was generally the same, but it slowly morphed in places. He still played volleyball, but now his joints hurt a little more than they used to. He couldn't ignore a twinge in his ankle anymore because if he did it'd become something a lot worse. He knew the whispers. Between his physical therapist, Coach Foster, and a few other members of staff. Retirement, they all said. Retirement, huh? He'd scoff to himself. I'll fuckin' show them all.

He still lived in the same apartment. However, he had graduated from through-the-wall conversations to face-to-face ones with Sakusa. It's a nice change. Of course, he didn't relay this Osamu, because he knew Osamu would tell him the words he needed to hear.

This probably isn't a good idea.

However, he couldn’t help but latch onto every inch of space that Sakusa gave him in his life. No matter how convinced he was that he’d moved on, he couldn't disagree that the feeling was still addicting.

As a professional athlete since he was fresh out of high school, he'd learned how to show his body care in order to achieve greatness. However, as the retirement talk continued, he threw this aside little by little. Sure, they talked about this with Bokuto too, but he actually agreed with them. Bokuto was okay with retiring because, “I love volleyball, Tsum-Tsum. I love it with my whole entire heart. But I also love other things. It took me a bit to understand that loving everything at once is ok but choosing to move ahead and love something else more is ok too! I think I'll coach a kids volleyball team in the future, after I enjoy a bit of rest. Keiji would probably like to have me home more often, anyway.”

The thought of the conversation made him serve the ball with more fury than usual. How could Bokuto just be fine with giving up volleyball? He wasn’t mad at him for leaving, he could never be mad at Bokuto, but in the immature teenage part of him that still rested somewhere in his heart, he felt a bit betrayed. Him and Bokuto had been on the team together for almost the same amount of time and had been on the team the longest out of the current group of players. For his entire life, volleyball had been the grounding force of his life, the guaranteed constant, even if the people he loved kept leaving him by running away from it. It was a stupid fear, but it felt all too real. Almost every betrayal he had felt was because of the sport he claimed to love so much. Or at least, it always seemed to come back to volleyball.

Retiring, for Atsumu, looked an awful lot like giving up.

He had clawed his way out of every volleyball-shaped crack in his heart and mended it by playing even more volleyball. He practically lived and breathed the sport. What would he even do if he quit?

Of course, as all things do, everything comes to a head when he lands on his ankle wrong in the middle of practice and suddenly, he can’t get up off the ground.

-

Atsumu didn't remember most of the medical appointments he attended. He didn't remember much of the moment itself either. He knew he called Osamu, who swore at him a lot before telling him he'd drive over as soon as he could. He knew he had a very angry phone call with his physical therapist, a consult with the team's sports medicine professionals, and a bit of an agitated conversation with Foster. In that moment, the wave of doom that flowed over him was enough to make him want to punch the first person he saw in the face, but he was in enough pain to restrain.

The doctors gave him pamphlets with instructions because they knew he wasn't listening. To add insult to injury, they immobilised his ankle and put him on crutches. No volleyball until it healed, no matter what. Maybe they knew Atsumu better than he knew himself.

They told him he was lucky it wasn't worse, especially considering the fact his ankle had been playing up for a while now. But was he really lucky? Stuck in his apartment with nothing to do, the one thing he clung to the most definitively off-limits for around two months? The most volleyball he played was setting aimlessly into the air above him, where if he fumbled a set, he'd just stop, because getting off his couch and hobbling over felt like too much of a hassle.

It was only the third day of this miserable new lifestyle when someone knocked on his door.

“Unlocked,” Atsumu called half-heartedly.

The door creaked open, the sound of someone slipping off their shoes distant in the background. “You know, I could've been a murderer, and I could have murdered you by no- Jesus Christ.”

Atsumu craned his neck over his shoulder, spotting a mop of black curls somewhere in his peripheral vision. Great, of course Sakusa had to walk in on him having one of the worst slumps in his life.

“Oi, Miya, I've been talking to you.”

Atsumu refocused and - wait, was Sakusa always here? Wasn't he right at his door like 5 seconds ago?

“I walked, idiot.” Oh, whoops. “Since you're on crutches and seem to be zoning in and out, I'm gonna guess something's pretty wrong.”

And at that, Atsumu couldn't help but laugh. And laugh. And laugh. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt and tears pricked at his eyes and oh, those probably weren't because of the laughter.

“Now that you're done hacking up your lungs, are you going to tell me what's wrong?”

“Are ya sure you're fine with being in here,” he said instead, motioning to his apartment. It was in a state. Something about the crutches and the ankle pain and the wonderful wave of doom made cleaning a lot harder.

Sakusa inhaled, then exhaled. “Appreciate the concern Miya, but no need to remind me. I'm almost thirty, I go to therapy, I've been in your apartment before, I'll be fine. Now-”

“How come ya wear the mask so much still, then?” Atsumu gestured vaguely at the mask that was pulled up above the bottom half of Sakusa’s face.

“Since you're clearly out of it right now, I'll spare you the stupid question.” Sakusa hooked a finger over the top of his mask, pulling it down below his chin. “I still have bad days, it's not like they'll go away forever. But it's fine, I've lived with it longer than I have without. Also, it feels weird not wearing the mask now.” He pulled the mask back up, settling it against his nose.

Atsumu pondered on his words for a moment, before humming. “Bad days, huh? Guess I'm having one of those right now.” A weak chuckle left his lips, no mirth in it.

“Bit more than one, I haven't seen you in a few days. I saw Osamu, never for long enough to ask about you though.”

The corners of Atsumu's mouth quirked up slightly. “Remind me to thank Samu for putting up with my stupid ass. Without him I'd probably have accidentally starved by now.”

“I don't doubt it.”

“I bet he's itchin' to say 'I told you so' right now. He won't though. Whenever I get seriously hurt, he gets all sombre on me, like I've died. You already knew that though.” Atsumu paused, pondering his next words. “It's dumb, I love the idiot and he knows I won't crumble if he pokes a little fun, but still, he won't. But he knows he's been tellin' me to get this stupid ankle checked out for who knows how long now, and I never listened, and now here I am. Fucking great professional athlete aren't I?” He barked an empty laugh, shaking his head to himself.

“How long are you off it?”

“Month or two. They put this dumb splint on it so I can't even try playing, too. They know me too well.”

When he didn't get a response, Atsumu raised his eyes to the kitchen. The kettle was boiling, and Sakusa was fishing what looked like teabags out of the cupboard.

“How'd your taste in tea get even worse, Miya?”

“Because I knew they were the ones ya hated the most.”

In his state, his brain didn't even register the words that left his mouth. Somehow, he couldn't even bring himself to care. It was the truth. His weird, roundabout plan to forgetting Sakusa involved drinking Sakusa's least favourite tea until he loved it.

Neither of them said a word as the whistling of the kettle filled the silence. Sakusa only returned with one cup.

“Still hate that flavour, then?”

Sakusa's non-response was more than enough confirmation for him.

They sat like that for a while. Atsumu caught Sakusa's eyes flitting to his ankle every now and then. Thank God he didn't show any outwardly pity, Atsumu had had enough pity for a lifetime.

“Let's go for a drive.”

The proposition was so sudden that all Atsumu responded with was “Huh?”

“Let's go for a drive. You look like you need to get out of this apartment. Did you shower today?”

Atsumu nodded. First one in two days, he thought to himself.

“Good. Come on, grab your crutches, let's go.”

Being in this car again was already enough shock for the day, but when Sakusa begrudgingly gave him permission to connect to the Bluetooth and play whatever he wanted, he entertained the thought that maybe, instead of spraining his ankle, he had slipped on the court, hit his head, and died.

The slight wince on Sakusa's face as Atsumu’s dumpster fire of a playlist cycled through was enough for Atsumu to know he regretted it, which made him grin even more.

After the same American pop song came on for the third time, Sakusa finally turned off the Bluetooth, much to Atsumu's dismay.

“Ya can't be critical of my music taste, ya listen to video game soundtracks and that gravelly rap shit. It's like night an' day. Ya don't still listen to music like that, do you?” Sakusa pointedly stared at the road, refusing to respond. “Oh my god, ya do! Yer such a hypocrite.”

“I'm surprised you even know what the word hypocrite means.”

Atsumu gasped. “I'll have ya know that I learned a whole other language in the time we've-” He caught himself before he could finish his sentence. That wasn't the trajectory he wanted this conversation to go on. “Point is, I am so much smarter now.”

“Ok dipshit, define-”

“Stopping ya right there, don't wanna hear whatever college term yer gonna spring on me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corners of Sakusa's lips quirk up. “And how would you know I'd do that?”

“That's definitely some shit ya'd do, don't even try to lie.”

The gentle sound that left Sakusa's mouth caused a flood of bubbles to suddenly swarm into Atsumu's chest. He almost forgot the word for the sound. Sakusa was laughing. Luckily, the car came to a stop before Atsumu could overthink it. Sakusa unlocked the doors, stepping outside and poking his head back into the car.

“Stay there.”

“Gonna lock me in here and abandon me?” Atsumu teased, crossing his arms.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, before shutting his door and walking to the other side to open Atsumu's.

“Before I do this, if you make it weird, I'll drop you.”

“Wha-”

Before Atsumu could finish his sentence, Sakusa picked him up out of his seat and deposited him onto the car hood. Atsumu didn’t know what was more embarrassing, the whole ordeal itself or the fact that his face heated up furiously beyond his control. However, if Sakusa noticed it, he said nothing as he propped himself up beside him. Before Atsumu could say something irreparably stupid, Sakusa spoke up.

“Whenever I get overwhelmed, I come here. There's something about the way it looks like it's supposed to be busy, but it's not. The sunset is beautiful from here too.”

For the first time, Atsumu properly noticed their location. They were in the middle of a dirt car park, but not a single other car was in sight. Above them, the sun painted the sky like a canvas, different shades of red and yellow mixing effortlessly into each other, the clouds almost transparent against them.

“When did ya find this place?”

The question stewed in the air for a moment. “Second year of university.”

Atsumu's breath hitched. “Is this-” The question left unfinished hung in the air all the same. Is this where you went when we fought?

“Yeah, it is.” Sakusa confirmed, leaning back on his hands to look at the sky.

“'S beautiful, O-Sakusa.”

They watched the sun go down together, they watched as the day slowly turned into night. They watched and watched until finally, Sakusa checked his phone, and gestured that they should get going. He put Atsumu back into his seat, got in the driver's seat and started driving. They opted for the actual radio this time.

“Hey, Sakusa?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you. I needed that.'

Although Sakusa didn't give him a verbal answer, the small smile was enough.

“Hey Miya?”

“Yeah?”

“You can use that dumb nickname again, if you want.”

-

Atsumu hated how easy it was for Sakusa to invade his life again.

Years of moving on crumbled into nothing the moment Sakusa started welcoming him in.

Sakusa worked during the day, but most nights of the week he'd come home and join Atsumu for dinner. Sometimes, they'd even cook together. He drove Atsumu around every weekend, and then whenever Atsumu felt like he was going to gouge his eyes out from staring at the ceiling. It got to the point where he almost spent more time with Sakusa than without.

Atsumu told Osamu that he'd made a friend nearby, and that's why he didn't need him to come over to help as much. However, he never disclosed the identity of said friend. Atsumu was going to tell him himself. Instead, Osamu found out by turning up unannounced and knocking on Atsumu’s door, only for Sakusa to answer it.

Sakusa left quickly, of course, leaving Osamu in the doorway staring at his brother with a mixed look of surprise, shock, and disappointment.

“Tsumu, I- ya know this is-”

“Dangerous? Yeah, I know.”

After that, Osamu made even more of a point to call him as often as he could.

The worst thing of all was that Atsumu didn't even mind this new routine. Not going to practice cut out a lot of his face-to-face interaction, so the company was a welcome distraction.

Even if it seemed like a lie in this situation, Atsumu had progressed since their breakup. He'd made enough peace with it over the years that it didn't plague him at night anymore (mostly). Being around Sakusa didn't pull up too many bad feelings.

Good feelings, though, were becoming a different story.

Atsumu was old enough not to bullshit himself when it came to romance anymore. In the years away from Sakusa, thoughts of finally settling down ran frequent through his mind, planted there by the relationship that ended too soon. For once, most of the dating he did was to find someone for real (again).

So, he was smart enough to know that the flutter in his chest whenever he saw Sakusa was the beginnings of a crush. Again. The word ‘again’ seemed to be becoming the mantra of his whatever-the-hell-this-was with Sakusa.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he tried, Atsumu was not the kind of man who could just turn off his feelings. He even tried to remind himself of the bad feelings, the breakup, about how ruined he was after it. But sitting on his ass for most of the day gave him too much time to think of everything else.

Sakusa had his own routine, his own new life, before Atsumu came barging back into it. Atsumu, maybe more than anyone, knew how hard it was for Sakusa to change routine. The consideration made him feel cared for. It made him feel nostalgic.

The thought itself made him laugh aloud. Nostalgic for a person, huh? That was a new one for him.

To no surprise, liking your ex was something that Atsumu couldn't keep bottled up. However, there was absolutely no way he could tell Osamu. Teasing aside, Osamu had been worrying for him too much. So, he rung his second-best choice (and probably his second-worst choice, next to not eating Osamu in the womb).

“Hey ugly.”

“Hi yerself, moron,” Atsumu sighed. He hoped Suna could feel his eyeroll from through the screen.

“It's like eleven on a Saturday. Yer lucky I'm even responding to this.”

“I've gotta tell ya something.”

“Didja finally kill Samu? Please tell me ya did, he forgot to give me back my Blu-ray copy of-”

“Rin, it's, uh, kinda serious.”

“As if ya haven't been serious this last month. Seein' ya so gloomy made me wanna give ya my own ankle so ya'd start saying stupid shit again.”

“Oi,” Atsumu chided, “not surprised morons like ya can't understand thinkin' on a deeper, intellectual level.” He gave a posh-sounding huff, to which Suna snickered in response.

“I literally got better grades than ya in high school, I got the receipts and everything.”

“Yer fuckin' school reports?”

“Yeah, I'll pull 'em out right now. But first, what's this problem?”

Ah, right. “Well, uh. Ya see, y'know how whenever I don't take Samu's advice about somethin', he always ends up bein' right?”

“Mhm.”

“So, that may have happened again.”

“And yer not telling Samu so he doesn't say 'I told ya so'?” Suna inferred, exaggerating the kansai-ben twinge to his tone grotesquely to imitate Osamu.

“Ya dipshit, yer practically makin' fun of me too. And, uh, no. I don't wanna worry him.”

Through the phone, Atsumu heard shuffling, as if Suna had moved closer to his phone. “Worry him? Yer starting to worry me now, what'd ya do?”

“So, ya know how O-,” Ok, maybe he shouldn't use the nickname right now “er- Sakusa lives next to me?”

“Please don't tell me ya killed him”

“Shaddup for a second, will ya?” Atsumu inhaled deeply, the confession rushing out of his mouth in a jumble of words. “IthinkIkindofhaveacrushonhimagain.”

The silence that followed was almost painful. For a second, Atsumu wondered if Suna had hung up, but a sly tone broke through his thoughts.

“I'm sorry, do ya wanna repeat that again?” Suna asked, the grin apparent in his words.

“Oh, fuck off, maybe I should've told Samu instead.”

Suna laughed. “Ya won't, I'm the favourite.”

“Ya won't be soon,” Atsumu grumbled, rubbing his forehead. “You and Samu are gonna be the reason I get grey hairs early.”

“I was wondering when ya'd notice.”

The shift in topic caused Atsumu to splutter. “Fuckin' what?”

Suna groaned. “Ya talk about him so much more now, reminds me of yer stupid pining.”

Atsumu wanted to argue with him, he really did. Now that he looked back on it, though, Suna was right. More and more of his texts with Suna featured Sakusa's name. It was as if every time he closed his eyes, the feelings got a tiny bit closer to him, not enough that he would notice, but eventually they were staring at him head-on.

“What're ya gonna do about it?”

Suna's question broke Atsumu out of his inner monologue. “Ignore it, we're exes for a reason.”

“That's stupid. A, you do not function like that. B, haven't ya ever heard of exes getting back together?”

“Yes, I have,” Atsumu hissed, “but ya forget that he was the one who broke it off.'

“So? Feelings change.”

Atsumu let out a frustrated groan, giving his phone a few firm taps to the back, as if Suna would somehow feel them in the form of a punch. “It's not that simple.”

“Yeah, I know that, but ya don't need to rule out the possibility.”

“I'm gonna kill ya.”

“Just statin' facts, idiot. Anyway, I'm gonna leave ya to stew in that for tonight while I take a nice, long sleep. I deserve it.”

“Watch out,” Atsumu warned. “I might just show up at yer door in the middle of the night and beat ya to death.”

“Please do, I'd never hafta deal with yer’s or Samu's idiocy ever again. Oh, and Tsumu?”

“Yup?”

“Thanks for tellin' me. Trust yer gut.”

Atsumu gave him a puff of acknowledgement, a small smile on his face as he hung up. Stupid Sunarin, also always right. It was easy to see how him and Osamu were a good couple, and even better friends.

It was time to ruin his sleep schedule, again.

-

By some miracle, he reached the end of his resting period. Slowly, the dark film that had settled over his eyes after the incident lifted, letting in the light again. It felt amazing. Of course, it wasn’t the end of his recovery, but the fact that Osamu was joking about breaking his ankle fully to get him to shut up again was enough for him. It felt like the door that had slammed shut on him so suddenly was creeping open once more.

Of course, with one dilemma almost over with, the other had more space.

It was no doubt that some miracle is Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu already felt emotions in volumes and waves and any other word that could say he drowned in them. It didn’t help at all that Sakusa would talk to him for hours on end on a couch far too small for two adults who should probably keep a foot of space between them. Sometimes, Atsumu gave himself a headache turning every possible scenario over in his head again and again.

The talking was intoxicating. It felt like getting to know him for the first time all over again. It was funny how much could change about a person in four years. Sakusa had reattended university online, eventually having enough qualifications to become a therapist. He was still studying, working on becoming a child psychologist, but he found his current job ‘very interesting’. He still played volleyball with a group of his friends, but he didn’t join any local clubs. It wouldn’t be smart to join a public volleyball club as a former professional athlete, hell, a former Olympian, who dropped out of the Japanese volleyball league suddenly and, seemingly, without a trace.

Atsumu never pushed for this information, but the knowledge made his heart wonder how the drop-out and their breakup were related. They had to be related, they happened within a month of each other, but how? And why? Atsumu had so many questions, but he didn’t want to risk scaring Sakusa off. Not again. For now, he could settle for late-night conversations, and weird facts over text, and indecipherable looks across the centre console of the car. It was the most he’d had in years.

Suna was right, he could try confessing. But between the whole neighbour thing and the sprained ankle, his ego was bruised enough. It couldn’t handle another rejection, even if the tantalising thought of having Sakusa again danced dangerously in front of him with every moment they spent together, reaching a spindly arm out to him, luring him in.

For a professional athlete, Atsumu was a weak man.

The turn of a door handle interrupted his thoughts and Atsumu didn’t even need to ask to know who it was.

No words are exchanged as Sakusa grabbed two cups out of the cupboard. This process had become a routine, their routine. The thought made Atsumu’s chest buzz with warmth. It had been a long time since them, even if it wasn’t in the same sense. Once again, the whistle of the kettle filled the air, joined by Atsumu happily humming to himself. Sakusa brought over the tea, settling one cup gently in front of Atsumu. Atsumu gave him a bright smile, taking a sip, while Sakusa fiddled with the elastic of his mask. Over the months they’d begun talking again, Sakusa had started wearing his mask less often around Atsumu. It filled Atsumu with pride, knowing that Sakusa was once again comfortable enough with him to let his guard down like that. However, Sakusa had made it clear that he still had his bad days, so Atsumu never questioned him if he chose to keep the mask on.

“Geez Omi, don't think I've ever told ya, but yer tea's always really go-”

“We need to stop this, Atsumu.”

Despite the hot tea, Atsumu went cold.

“What?”

“Please don't make me repeat myself.”

Sakusa's gaze flitted uneasily around Atsumu, his tea placed back on the coffee table between them.

“Why?”

“Why? The hell do you mean, why?” Sakusa laughed, no humour behind it. He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a small, tired sigh. “We're exes, Miya. Exes who ended on bad terms. Yet here we are, spending literally every day with each other, as if nothing even happened. How the hell do you explain that?”

“Explain it then.”

Sakusa's brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“In case ya forgot, you're the one who broke up with me. So, explain it.” Despite the demand, there was no real malice or anger in Atsumu's tone. He felt his mind going numb.

Suddenly, Sakusa slammed his fist into the desk, the loud bang ringing out into the empty silence.

“God, it's just too fucking easy for you, isn't it?” he snapped, “To move on and forget? Went out of your way to change everything that reminded you of me. Well, newsflash Miya, so did I! I threw your fucking stupid little trinkets out one by fucking one, I stopped buying the foods you liked to eat, I put your polaroids in the back of my closet because I wasn't strong enough to throw them away. It was stupidly hard, but eventually I did it. I thought I'd finally moved on from you. I started going to therapy again, finished my degree and finally put it to use. But then,” Sakusa heaved, lifting a shaking finger up to point. “You waltzed back into my life. And suddenly, years of progress was undone in an instant.”

The silence was deafening. Atsumu opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Sakusa raised his eyes to the ceiling, breathing out, before he started laughing. Atsumu stared at him, a pang of pain rushing through his chest. Sakusa's laughs died down, but his shaking didn't.

“Tell me, Atsumu,” Sakusa said, a steely glare washing over his face “what would you do if you felt yourself falling for the only man you've ever loved again, after you broke up with him? How do you un-fuck that up?”

Atsumu stared at him, his mind struggling to process every piece of information that Sakusa had just confessed. Again?

“Omi, I-”

“Don't call me that,” Sakusa bit out shortly. He stood abruptly, and a sense of panic washed over Atsumu.

“Omi, wait-”

“Please, don't call me that.”

There was no threat to Sakusa's voice anymore. All the anger had flushed away, leaving his voice hoarse and broken. He pleaded in a whisper. “Once I walk out this door, this is it. The end of whatever this was. I- I'm sorry, Miya. But we're exes for a reason.”

His words hung heavy in the air, crushing Atsumu's lungs as Sakusa finally walked out. The door clicked gently and once again, Sakusa left the same way he had come back into Atsumu's life. Far too soon.

We're exes for a reason.

Those were the same words that Atsumu had used to reason with himself why he shouldn’t chase after Sakusa. He had thought them many times before. But hearing them from Sakusa felt like someone had stuck a knife into his chest and twisted it.

Atsumu dropped his head into his hands and cried.

-

His resting period ended. He went to physical therapy. He got used to walking on his foot properly again. The promises of volleyball, real proper volleyball, were on the horizon.

So why did he still feel awful?

It was too quiet. It made Atsumu wonder how he lived like this before. No more quiet laughing in the kitchen, comfortable silences as a show played on tv. No more late-night conversations about the stupidest things they could think of. For the second time, too. It almost felt as bad as the breakup.

Osamu, being Osamu, found out almost immediately after, when Atsumu accidentally blurted it out on call. For once, he had nothing to say. Instead, he hung up and, soon enough, he was at Atsumu's door with onigiri and ice cream. He let Atsumu cry about it all night.

He wanted to be angry at Sakusa. For running away from him, away from their second chance. However, he just couldn't. He was in too deep.

It wasn't like Sakusa had disappeared completely, anyway. Throughout the day, Atsumu could hear faint noises from next door, the indication of someone still living there. It made him feel even worse.

He could confront Sakusa. Demand the answers he deserved. The answers he had been waiting on for four long years. But —

Maybe it was easier to let Sakusa slip away again.

-

The air was choking him.

He needed to get out.

He paced around his apartment in a daze, looking around at his belongings. Keys, keys, keys, his thoughts chanted, his eyes jumping between the clutter on his dining table. A shiny glint caught his eye, and, within moments, it was clutched in his palm.

The time between him leaving his apartment and getting into his car was a blur. The roads were quiet, which was probably a good thing even though his driving wasn’t erratic. His grip on the steering wheel was firm, to counter the sweat that made his palms slippery. Atsumu’s breathing was the loudest sound in his ears and the most notable sensation in his body, with his heartbeat pounding heavily beside it. The uncomfortable throbbing in his ankle only barely came in third.

The car came to a stop in the middle of a dirt car park. One that was usually empty. One that Atsumu hadn't been to in weeks.

Today, a car was already there.

Reality hit Atsumu in the face. Shit, what was he even thinking? Of course Sakusa would be here. It was his spot after all. He surveyed his possible choices. He could get back in his car right now and speed off. Maybe he could do a runner. He could even try just sitting here and ignoring Sakusa. Or maybe-

“I know you're there, y'know,” a voice called back to him.

For a moment, Atsumu found his feet rooted to the ground. Gently, step by step, he gingerly made his way over to the blue car sitting solitarily in the lot.

If he said Sakusa looked anything less than radiant, he’d be lying to himself. Because life had a personal vendetta against Atsumu, he had caught Sakusa at golden hour. The final light of the day streamed beautifully over Sakusa’s form, giving him the glow of what Atsumu could only describe as a god. It filtered softly through his dark curls and darker lashes, casting a shadow against the hood of his car. It made Atsumu want to stomp and scream and cry because how, how, can a person be so beautiful? How can this be the kind of person who would want to spend even a moment around Atsumu? The perfect word found its way to the back of Atsumu’s throat, daring him to spill it out.

Sakusa looked ethereal.

And Atsumu had lost him, again.

“Why are you here?” The silence was shattered, with it the moment that only existed in Atsumu’s eyes.

“Had to get out of my head,” Atsumu answered honestly, tucking his hands into his pockets. He pulled his eyes away from Sakusa, looking out at the sunset.

“Why here, though?”

“I-” Ah, fuck it. “Because I can't get ya out of my head, Omi,” Atsumu let out an empty chuckle at how weak his facade was. Sakusa asked him one question and lying was instantly out of the picture. “And before ya tell me to piss off,” he turned his head to the side, daring to catch the corner of Sakusa’s eye with his gaze. “I can't change how I feel.”

“You —”

Suddenly, Sakusa was looking right at him. He was looking back. The stare they held when they locked eyes could have lasted just a moment or for all of infinity. It would never matter, because Atsumu wouldn’t have been able to tell either way.

“Ya never let me have a word in it,” Atsumu said. “Both times. You decided ya wanted to leave, so off ya went. I don't know what's going on in yer head, Omi, so I don't know how ya really feel.”

With no response, Atsumu somehow found it in himself to continue.

“That's how it was in the end, wasn't it? I couldn't understand you and you couldn't understand me. I don't blame ya, not anymore, but I wish ya'd just talked to me before you went. I would've let ya go either way, I loved ya too much to try and make ya stay.”

“I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“A lot. My OCD was getting bad again, even after the years of treatment, and I panicked. Suddenly, how accommodating you were for me made me worry too. So instead of talking, I took it out om you.”

“Yeah, yeah ya did. Was kinda shitty of ya, Omi.”

“Kinda sounds like an understatement.”

“Honestly? Yeah, it is. Ya tore my heart out, y’know? Made Samu get all soft on me, and ya know I hate that.”

“I know, I'm-”

Atsumu cut him off sharply. “Don't ya dare say sorry. Not right now.”

Sakusa stared at him for a moment before he nodded, looking down at his feet.

“So, is that what this was for? Yer gettin' bad again?”

“No, in that aspect I'm better than I've ever been. This time, it’s,” Sakusa hesitated, before pushing on, “because I realized that no matter what, I'm always going to be a little in love with you.”

“Shit.”

Atsumu dragged his hand down his face, letting out a groan.

“Sakusa ya - ya can't just spring that on a guy, not after all that. I thought ya just liked me again, not - Jesus.”

Sakusa's gaze was fixed on his feet. “Sorry, I shouldn't have.”

And suddenly, Atsumu let out a bittersweet chuckle. “No, you idiot, I'm not uncomfortable. I'm into ya too. Just not that. Not yet.”

Now it was Sakusa's turn to stare. Atsumu tried to imagine the grimace that probably existed underneath Sakusa's mask right now, which made him laugh genuinely.

“Yes, surprise, I like ya too.”

Sakusa looked between him and the ground. “That's...that-”

“However, if ya decide to wanna, uhm, yaknow,” Atsumu gestured wildly with his hands, trying to find the words. Luckily, Sakusa had just the right ones.

“Try again?”

Their eyes locked again. Delivering his next sentence was significantly harder with Sakusa's attention fully, truly on him.

“Yeah. That's what I meant. If ya'd wanna try, I'd like that too, but it'd hafta be like we dated twenty years ago, instead of four. It needs to be a new start, because ya hurt me, and I'm not ready for all of ya just yet. I understand if ya don't wanna thou-”

“Okay.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means okay, I'll go by whatever boundaries you set. All of them. I want to try again with you, Atsumu.”

Atsumu let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding in.

“Alright. I'm okay with that too.”

They watched the rest of the sunset together, and a metaphor about the past finally being behind them set somewhere with the disappearing sun.

-

It wasn’t easy, of course.

They still lived in their separate apartments. They tried to spend more time without each other than with. But they went on proper dates, and had nice dinners together, and sometimes, Atsumu rested his head on Sakusa's shoulder as they watched a volleyball game together.

One day, Atsumu had Bokuto over for dinner and made Sakusa talk to him. Bokuto hadn't seen Sakusa for longer than Atsumu, yet his reaction was the same as if he had only been gone a few days. Pure glee. How could anyone ever dislike this man?

Atsumu let them chat and catch up on the years gone by. Sakusa talked about his degree, his new job, and the nice ramen place he found a few streets away. Bokuto talked about Akaashi, his plan to propose, and the stupid horror movie he watched the other day that was more cheap shock horror than anything. They both talked about retirement.

Ever since his sprain, the question of retirement had Atsumu chasing after the answer. On one hand, volleyball had been the thing he had planned on doing for the rest of his life, ever since he was little. He planned on playing it until his body just couldn't play anymore. Now, that seemed to be approaching too soon.

His ankle still wasn't fully ok. It hurt, not enough to indicate another sprain in the near future, but enough to be a nuisance. Atsumu knew it wasn't going to stop there, either. The drastic changes in his life made him realise that volleyball for the rest of his life was nothing but an unrealistic wish. A dream. He was living the dream right now but eventually he would have to wake up.

He ended up deciding that he wanted one more year. Just one more year, and he would retire. One year to figure out what he was doing now, and what he would do after his career was over. It would give him room to breathe, to enjoy his passion and to, hopefully, keep exploring this new thing with Sakusa.

For the moment, only him and Sakusa needed to know about their thing. Not even Osamu. That would kick Atsumu in the ass later, absolutely, but it was what they both wanted.

There was so much they still needed to work out. Everything would be hit-or-miss for a little while. They were different people, even if not by much. But they were different people who had spent years changing their lives to separate themselves from each other, only for them to collide again in a blaze. Difficulty was going to be a given.

However, when Atsumu gets to shittily serenade Sakusa at midnight when they both can't sleep, he's reminded that it’s worth it.

When Atsumu gets to kiss the dainty moles on Sakusa's forehead and the latter's neck flushes red, he's reminded that it’s worth it.

When Atsumu gets to listen to Sakusa rave about something he’s passionate about, and watch his dark eyes get a little bit brighter as he speaks, he's reminded that it’s worth it.

And when they share their first intimate moment in years, when they move against each other perfectly, like they were always meant to fit together, when he calls him Kiyoomi in the beautiful high, a name that hasn't left his lips in what feels like an infinity, he's reminded, with everything within him, that this is worth it.

Atsumu's glad he tried again.