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"Hey, Kiyoomi, what's up with your eyes?"
Kiyoomi looks up at his cousin, Motoya's eyes staring intently at his own. "What are you talking about?" he grumbles, looking back down at his book.
"Your eyes changed color. Now they're a," Motoya pauses, trying to think of the right words to describe the color, "Not really gold, more like a piss yellow."
Kiyoomi glances back up. "That's disgusting, Motoya."
Motoya shrugs, his eyes turning back down to his sandwich. "That's the best way I can describe them." He takes a bite and says as he chews, "It kinda fits your whole 'Don't talk to me or I'll kill you' vibe, though."
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. Motoya is being completely ridiculous and he knows it too. He does not have that vibe, he just doesn't want people crowding around him, especially the people that he goes to school with. Some of them have the worst hygiene practices that Kiyoomi has ever seen.
"I wonder if your soulmate knows what toner is," Motoya muses thoughtfully.
"Can we be done talking about this?" Kiyoomi grumbles. He's tired of talking about the whole soulmate thing, especially with Motoya. His cousin is a hopeless romantic and brings up the concept of soulmates every chance he gets. He's even talked to Kiyoomi about dying his hair an insane color so it'll be easier for his soulmate to find him.
"Okay, mister grumpy pants." Motoya switches topics to something else and Kiyoomi shoves any and all thoughts about his soulmate to the back of his mind. He has more important things to worry about.
He definitely does not look in the mirror when he gets home that evening and he definitely does not notice that there is still a thin ring of the dark brown surrounding the horrifyingly offensive yellow that his eyes are indeed now colored.
Over the next two years, Kiyoomi has brief thoughts about his soulmate, but nothing past that. His mind is kept thoroughly preoccupied with schoolwork and volleyball and very little else. It pays off, though, because in his second year, he's invited to the U19 volleyball training camp. Thankfully Motoya is also invited so he won't be completely uncomfortable.
The first day goes well until his conversation with Motoya at dinner is interrupted by two loud and incredibly annoying voices yelling unintelligibly across the dining hall.
"I think that's Miya Atsumu and Hoshiumi yelling at each other," Motoya notes, watching the two boys continue their intense conversation. Kiyoomi really couldn’t care less about the drama going on around him but Motoya, for some stupid reason, absolutely lives for it.
"Well they need to shut up," Kiyoomi grumbles under his breath. Motoya lets out a chuckle and Kiyoomi glares at him. The libero opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted before he can. "Do not say to just ignore them. That is much easier said than done."
Motoya holds his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I won't." He looks up at the boy causing all of the ruckus and his eyes widen slightly. "Hey, Kiyo, look at Miya."
"Why would I want to do that," Kiyoomi asks in a bored tone. Honestly, he has so many other things he could be doing, like practicing his serves.
"Just do it!"
Kiyoomi reluctantly raises his eyes to look at Miya. "Why do you want me . . ." He trails off when he realizes why Motoya wanted him to look up. Even though Miya is standing at a table about six tables away from his, Kiyoomi can clearly see the piss color of his hair. He can feel himself freeze and he knows that Motoya must have come to the same conclusion.
Okay, breathe, Kiyoomi. You don't know that he's actually your soulmate. Lots of people in Japan dye their hair that god awful shade of yellow. Besides, your soulmate had dark brown hair before dying it. For all you know, Miya could have had dark blonde or red or even-
Then Miya turns to call out to someone else and Kiyoomi's eyes land on the dark brown undercut beneath the yellow hair.
"Fuck," he breathes out.
He stands, his appetite now gone, and waves Komori off when he tries to get up to follow him. He leaves the dining hall and finds a hiding spot in one of the storage closets. As germ infested and disgusting as the closet is, it's probably the only place where Kiyoomi is going to find any semblance of peace and quiet for a while.
No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. There is no way in hell that Miya Atsumu is his soulmate, Kiyoomi refuses to believe it. He absolutely refuses. He's only been around the other boy for a day but already knows that Miya is frustratingly annoying, a raging perfectionist, and an absolute nuisance.
He is everything that Kiyoomi does not want in his soulmate. The universe has to be playing a massive prank on him. That's the only logical explanation he can think of for this.
Yet, in some twisted and cruel way, he knows that isn't true.
That doesn't mean that he has to like it, though.
He manages to mostly avoid Miya for the rest of the training camp, though there are a few times where they have to play together. Miya uses these opportunities to give him an atrocious nickname.
"Omi! Come spike for me!"
"Omi-Omi, I need a spiker!"
"Omi, can ya help me real quick?"
"Omi-kun, yer so mean!"
If Kiyoomi has to hear any variation of "Omi" one more time, he might actually murder Miya. Thankfully, he won't have to see him much, if at all, afterwards. Itachiyama doesn't play Inirizaki much so he hopefully won't have to see him at any games or tournaments. If Kiyoomi's really lucky, he'll never have to see him again.
But if you're soulmates, you're destined to run into each other again at some point, his traitorous brain unhelpfully provides.
Shut up, he eloquently responds.
Just because the universe has fated them to be together does not mean that their lives are going to intersect again.
In his second year at university, Kiyoomi does notice a change in his eye color again. It's lighter this time and looks almost like spun gold at first glance. He leans a little closer and realizes that it's actually more of a pale blonde, more than likely a platinum blonde.
Looks like Miya finally learned what toner is, he muses to himself before shaking that thought out of his head. He doesn't care about Miya or what he's doing or whether or not he finally learned how to take care of his hair. He shoves down the thought that it looks like a nice color and gets back to his term paper.
Kiyoomi wholeheartedly believes that his younger self cursed him. How else do you explain how he had ended up on the same V.League team as Miya Atsumu?
Okay, he can't blame everything on his younger self. He had known that Miya is the starting setter for the MSBY Black Jackals because while in university, he kept up with who was playing on what team. Yet even with knowing that Miya is on that team, Kiyoomi still chose that one.
Why? Well, if you ask Kiyoomi, he'll say that the Black Jackals are an excellent team.
If you ask Motoya, he'll make a joke about Miya and how Kiyoomi is secretly and hopelessly in love with him.
And that is precisely why no one should ask Motoya for his opinion in the matter.
So now Kiyoomi is standing in the MSBY locker room on his first day of practice, trying his hardest not to murder Miya as the obnoxious blonde is loudly joking around with Bokuto. The only thing he wants to do is get to his locker, change into his practice clothes, and get into the gym.
But evidently the universe has other plans because Miya is standing right in front of his locker, blocking his path. Actually, Miya is leaning against his locker and is showing absolutely no signs of moving any time soon.
The way Kiyoomi is looking at this is that he has two options:
1. Turn around, leave the training facility, quit the Black Jackals, and go play for another V.League team,
Or 2. Force Miya to move, change as quickly as he could, and never speak to the setter ever again.
While the former option is currently looking more and more appealing by the second, Kiyoomi knows that he can’t just quit the team all because of one person.
You could but you’d look like a complete dick, his unhelpful brain supplies.
He scowls beneath his mask and he knows he probably looks ridiculous to the other team members. However, he really can’t bring himself to care about that at the moment because he’s too busy trying to figure out how best to shove Miya away from his locker and then burn everything that the other man has ever laid a filthy finger on.
And because the universe just loves to see him suffer, Miya chooses that exact moment to turn and look at him with those deep black eyes of his that match Kiyoomi's hair, reminding Kiyoomi yet again of his misfortune. A smirk pulls his lips up and his eyelids fall just a tad, an aura of cockiness rolling off of him so thick you could practically see it.
“Hey, Omi-Omi, nice ta see tha' yer joinin’ us today,” he drawls in that horrific Kansai-ben accent.
Kiyoomi manages to scowl even harder under his mask and, after briefly lamenting the fact that his skin care routine will have to work twice as hard to prevent early wrinkles, he says, “Move, Miya. You’re in front of my locker.”
Wow, Kiyoomi, how eloquent. You truly are a cunning linguist.
Miya has the utter audacity to let out a chuckle. “Sorry, Omi, didn’t realize this one was yers.” He pushes himself up and off the cold metal before moving a few steps to the right and leaning against the locker two doors down from Kiyoomi’s. Taking a reluctant step forward, Kiyoomi takes his can of disinfectant out of his bag and sprays the locker door down before opening it with a gloved hand.
If Miya finds it strange, he makes no comment about it. Surprisingly, no one makes a comment. He really shouldn't be surprised though, because he did inform everyone of his aversion to germs beforehand.
Kiyoomi quickly changes into his practice clothes and leaves the locker room, feeling Miya's eyes on him almost the entire time. He doesn't want to be in there longer than necessary. Logically, he knows that the locker room is probably cleaner than it seems at first glance, but he still doesn't want to take any chances.
The rest of the team eventually trickles out after him and practice starts. He can still feel Miya watching him and while it puts him on edge, he tries not to let it affect his playing. The last thing he needs today is an argument with Miya about being distracted and "playin' like absolute shit", as he often heard the setter say at high school games.
I just need to get through today, he thinks.
Then what? It's not like Miya will disappear after today and life will go smoothly after that, a voice crows in the back of his mind. You can't outrun fate, Kiyoomi, no matter how fast you run.
"Omi!" Miya calls out, snapping Kiyoomi out of the argument with his subconscious. Kiyoomi jumps, slamming his palm against the ball and sending it careening over the net and just barely out of bounds. "Omi, what the hell was tha'?" Miya demands.
So much for avoiding that argument.
"It was nothing, Miya," Kiyoomi grinds out.
"Nothin', my ass. Yer distracted an' ya hit tha' like shit. Get yer shit together. Ya can hit way better than tha'," the setter demands. He turns away from Kiyoomi and stalks away. Kiyoomi huffs, trying not to grind his teeth together in irritation.
He can understand being a perfectionist, but Miya is just an ass and he knows it and he doesn't care who else knows it. The universe truly and utterly despises Kiyoomi. He must have done something terrible in a past life to deserve something like this.
Their first away game brings along with it an issue: sharing a hotel room. Now, this wouldn't be as big of an issue if it had been any other member of the team, but of course, the spiteful universe has to make sure that his roommate is Miya Atsumu.
If Kiyoomi could scream and demand a different roommate, he would but unfortunately, he can't because he's a decent human being and he doesn't want to cause a scene. So he sucks it up, takes the offered keycards from Meian, and walks away, leaving Miya behind with the others. Footsteps hurry after him but luckily no arm gets slung around his shoulders once Miya catches up with him.
"Omi-Omi, wait fer me." Kiyoomi doesn't respond. He just wants to get to their room, do his usual routine, and get ready for their game. He doesn't need Miya hanging around him, breathing the same air, pouting at him with his lips-
Stop, hold up, hold it right there, do not think about his lips, Kiyoomi scolds himself mentally. He unlocks their door, breathing out a sigh of relief after opening it.
"What's wrong, didja think they'd only have one bed or somethin'?" Miya teases as he shuffles past Kiyoomi. "'S ain't a shitty rom-com, Omi-Omi."
Kiyoomi glares at him but if it has any effect, Miya doesn't show it. "Fuck off, Miya. It would be just my misfortune to have to share a bed with you."
Miya makes a noise that Kiyoomi thinks is somewhere between a huff and a scoff and says, "Trust me, Omi, 'm not the worst person on the team ta share a bed with. Bokkun's absolutely miserable ta share with. He tosses an' turns so much ya'd think an earthquake was hittin'."
Kiyoomi hums and chooses to ignore anything else that might spill out of Miya's disgusting mouth in favor of starting his usual hotel cleaning routine. It's not that he doesn't trust the hotel housekeeping, it's just that . . . yeah, actually, it's pretty much exactly that. He's not a germaphobe, as Miya likes to say, he just prefers things to be clean and know that they’re clean.
He vaguely hears the door open and shut again but pays no attention to it. He has more important things to do than worry about what Miya is doing.
Later that night, after their victory against Tachibana Red Falcons, Kiyoomi lays in his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. The rest of the team went out to celebrate the victory and Kiyoomi had gone but he left after thirty minutes. The team had wished him a good night but Miya had just mumbled something, staring at him for a few moments.
Kiyoomi is not thinking about how sad Miya looked when he left the bar. He isn't thinking about how the darkness of Miya's eyes pair nicely with his blonde hair or how it perfectly matches their team colors. Or how sadness isn't a good look on Miya because it dulls his eyes and his smile drops.
Okay, he is. But only a little bit.
The door creaking open tears his eyes away from the ceiling. He stays still, his eyes slipping shut, and he hopes that his breathing is low enough that it looks like he's asleep. Miya either doesn't notice or doesn't care because he stumbles into the bathroom without a word, the door clicking shut. He's only in there for a couple minutes before he comes back out, shuffling through the room towards the beds.
Instead of the sound of a body laying on a mattress, though, Kiyoomi hears a dull thump, like something hitting the floor. He shifts, not enough for Miya to become suspicious (even though he knows that Miya is probably much too drunk to even realize if Kiyoomi is actually awake) but just enough that he can crack his eyes open and look for the setter.
Miya is on the floor, his back against the other bed, and he's staring blankly at Kiyoomi. Well, in Kiyoomi's direction. He can't see the other man very well in the dark but there's just enough light spilling in from outside that he can see how blank Miya's face is.
It unnerves Kiyoomi. Miya is always so expressive, every emotion that he feels showing on his face for the whole world to see, so to see him looking so blank and almost lifeless . . . unease settles in the pit of Kiyoomi's stomach.
"'M sorry, I know yer asleep, Omi-Omi," he hears Miya mumble. He can barely hear him speaking but he still manages to make out what he says. "Tryin' ta be quiet . . . don' wanna wake ya up. Ya'll get mad an' yell at me." He sniffles softly, rubbing his nose with his wrist. "Jus' needed ta," he trails off. "Guess maybe say tha' I know? I know tha' yer . . ." he trails off, staring blankly at Kiyoomi again for a moment. He finally continues, "Ah, never mind, 'm sorry," he mutters one more time before shifting and crawling onto his bed. He sprawls out like a starfish, his breathing evening out and his light snores filling the room.
Kiyoomi shifts again, turning his eyes back up to the ceiling, unsure what to do with what just happened. He tries to rationalize it in his head. Miya came back drunk, so he probably wasn't aware of anything he was saying.
But what is it that he was trying to say? What does he-
Kiyoomi freezes. Does Miya know that they're soulmates? When did he figure it out? How did he figure it out?
Most importantly, why has he waited until now to say anything?
After the strange drunken Miya incident, Kiyoomi starts watching the setter more often.
The first thing he notices is how observant Miya really is. He constantly checks on the team, especially his hitters, making sure they're drinking enough water and they're feeling alright. He helps Bokuto out of his occasional mood swings. Encourages Hinata. Makes sure Kiyoomi is comfortable and that no one is in his space too much.
Maybe Miya knowing isn’t as far-fetched as I thought, Kiyoomi thinks one day after practice. He watches Miya as he practices his serves, determination written clearly across the man’s face.
“He’s been working himself pretty hard lately,” Hinata says somewhere to Kiyoomi’s left, startling the spiker. He turns and looks at the shorter man but Hinata’s eyes are locked on Miya. “He’s been more tired the last few days and I don’t think he’s been sleeping as well.”
Kiyoomi blinks, slightly surprised at how observant Hinata is. The ginger always seems much more oblivious than he really is. Humming, he turns to look back at Miya. “He should know the team doesn’t rely completely on him.”
“I think he knows, he just wants to be the best that he can be for the team.” Hinata shrugs. “I get it; Tobio is kinda the same way. They both have insanely high expectations for themselves and they go crazy whenever they don’t meet them.” Kiyoomi hums again but doesn’t give a verbal response. Hinata’s eyes fix their gaze on him next. “You’re staying for a little while, right, Omi?” He receives a nod. “Can you make sure that he doesn’t overwork himself?” Another nod. “Thanks. See you tomorrow!” Hinata walks off towards the locker room and Kiyoomi’s attention is completely back to Miya.
I wonder what’s keeping him from sleeping properly, Kiyoomi can’t help but let himself wonder.
He shakes the thought away. He has more important things to do than think about Miya’s sleeping habits. If he can’t sleep, that’s his problem, not Kiyoomi’s.
The more he observes Miya, the more Kiyoomi finds himself invested in learning about the setter. For the first couple of weeks, he’d tried reasoning with himself that he just wanted to figure out how Miya knew they were soulmates but at some point in the month that he’s been watching the blonde, he realized that he was genuinely curious about the man.
He knows next to nothing about Miya except that he has a twin who owns an onigiri shop and he went to Inirizaki. So he resolves to learn more about him.
He tells Motoya as much one night when they’re Facetiming.
“Wait, you actually want to get to know Miya?” Motoya asks incredulously. “I thought you hated him!”
“I don’t hate him. He’s annoying and irritable but still tolerable.”
“What changed your mind about him? You couldn’t stand him when we were in high school.”
Kiyoomi takes a moment to think about his answer. “I’m not sure. I’ve been watching him the last month and-”
“Kiyo, that sounds an awful lot like stalking,” Motoya smiles slyly at him.
He gives his cousin a glare. “I’m not stalking him. I’ve been merely observing him.” Kiyoomi pauses before quietly saying, “I think he knows that we’re soulmates.”
“Wait, really? That’s awesome!”
“No, it’s not! I don’t-he’s-” Kiyoomi groans. “Why did he have to be my soulmate?”
“Well, Mom always says that soulmates are supposed to be kind of a complementary thing, you know? Like someone who’s a loudmouth and can’t keep their mouth shut ends up being soulmates with someone who only really speaks when necessary. Or like a sweet sun child is soulmates with a prickly little cactus. You know, that kind of thing.”
“Wow, Motoya, that was incredibly eloquent,” Kiyoomi deadpans.
“Oh hush, Kiyo. I’m just trying to help.” Motoya sighs. “Are you really that surprised that he knows, though? He’s always seemed pretty observant to me.”
“Why hasn’t he said anything though? Miya doesn’t seem like the kind of person to keep that a secret from anyone.”
“Maybe he knows that you don't want him as your soulmate. Do you want my advice?"
"No-"
"Talk to him. Don't just stand there and glare at him, actually talk to him." Motoya's eyes studied his for a moment. "I know that it scares you to think about the possibility that he might actually be a good fit for you, but you just need to do it."
"It doesn't scare me," Kiyoomi protests.
Motoya doesn't look all that convinced. "Okay, keep lying to both of us then. That's fine. I gotta go, I'll talk to you later." Kiyoomi manages to grumble out a goodbye before his phone screen goes back to his home screen.
Maybe Motoya had a good point, Kiyoomi thinks briefly. Then he shakes his head, clearing away that thought. No, he's right about a lot of things but not this.
Standing from his desk, he pushes the thoughts down and walks to the kitchen to start making dinner.
When he actually lets himself think about Motoya's words over the next week, though, the more he thinks his cousin might be right. Maybe Miya is actually a good soulmate for him. He always makes sure that Kiyoomi is comfortable around the team, always makes sure that he has extra hand sanitizer or alcohol wipes in case Kiyoomi runs out. Makes sure that Kiyoomi's boundaries are respected, always finds an empty room or section of hallway whenever he notices the spiker starting to get too overwhelmed in social situations.
Maybe Miya is a better person than he originally thought.
Kiyoomi stays behind again after practice the Friday after his and Motoya's conversation, watching Miya practice his serves again. This time, though, there's no one else in the gym with them. The rest of the team have already showered and left, leaving the two of them alone. He isn't totally sure if Miya knows he's still there or not but he takes the opportunity to just watch the man.
His thighs flex as he jumps up and serves the ball over the net, landing back down on the ground and breathing heavily. Miya's shirt clings tightly to his skin with sweat and for the first time in his life, Kiyoomi isn't completely disgusted with that thought. Miya pushes his hair out of his face before going to grab another ball. Kiyoomi would be lying if he said he didn't find it attractive.
Wait, hold on, pump the fuckin' brakes, stop the train, Kiyoomi thinks frantically. Miya is not attractive. I do not find him attractive in any way, shape, or form.
Oh but you do, that stupid voice in the back of his mind says. It's starting to sound eerily like Motoya.
No, I don't.
Yes, you do.
He groans in frustration, finally alerting Miya to his presence. "Oh, hey, Omi. Whatcha still doin' here?" the setter asks, slightly out of breath. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle, even under the harsh lights of the gym. "Did ya wanna practice some more?"
Kiyoomi shakes his head, thankful for his face mask which is hiding his warmer than normal cheeks, and leaves. He needs to call Motoya.
"So you're saying that I was right." Kiyoomi can hear the smug tone in his cousin's voice through the phone.
"Yes, Motoya, I'm saying you were right," Kiyoomi grumbles. He hates admitting Motoya is right but he can't keep this to himself and unfortunately, his cousin is the only person he trusts enough with this kind of information.
After all, he was the first person to figure out that Miya and Kiyoomi were soulmates.
"No need to sound so upset, Kiyo. Contrary to popular belief, I do occasionally know what I'm talking about. So now that you've realized that I was, in fact, correct, what are you gonna do about it?"
"Absolutely nothing."
An exasperated sigh comes through the phone speaker. "Come on, you can't just do nothing."
"Yes, I can."
"Okay, so let's say you do nothing. What are you gonna do if he says anything to you about it?"
"He won't say anything about it."
"Just-" Motoya lets out a frustrated sigh. "Just humor me for a moment, Kiyo."
Kiyoomi thinks about it for a minute. He isn't totally sure what he would say; he doesn't want to admit that he's known for years now but he doesn't want Miya to think he doesn't want him as a soulmate. If you had asked teen Kiyoomi, he would have immediately said that he would tell Miya to fuck off and never speak to him again. But now that they've both matured and Kiyoomi has actually given himself a chance to get to know Miya, he's not so sure that would still be his answer.
"I don't know," he answers honestly.
"Well you'd better figure it out because I'm sure he's gonna ask sooner or later." Motoya pauses before asking, "Is there something else? I feel like there's something you're not telling me."
Kiyoomi hesitates. There is something else, but he isn't sure he wants to tell anyone. Usually he tells Motoya everything but he's not even sure how to word what he's feeling right now. He hasn't even been able to admit to himself that . . .
What, admit that you like Atsumu? That you find him attractive? That you wouldn't mind dating him?
Kiyoomi grits his teeth in frustration. He really wishes that voice would shut up for once. "No, it's fine, Motoya."
Motoya is silent for a moment, like he's trying to decide whether or not to argue with Kiyoomi about this. Finally, he says, "Alright, I'll believe you. I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah, okay." The phone goes silent when the call ends and Kiyoomi places his phone down. A sigh escapes his lips as his head falls forward to land on the desk with a thud.
He doesn't know what to do. On one hand, he could just ignore the feelings that have started throwing butterflies into the pit of his stomach. On the other hand, though, he could confess to Atsumu and get rejected, because even though the universe has dictated them as soulmates, that doesn't necessarily mean they'll end up together, and he'll probably have to switch teams at the end of the season. Neither option sounds good; he's tired of fighting with himself about Atsumu but he doesn't want to see the look of rejection on Atsumu's face either.
He turns his head slightly and peeks up at the window. There's still a couple hours of sunlight left, judging by the amount of light spilling in through the blinds.
Maybe a run will help, he thinks.
The run helps a little bit; at the very least, it helps him gather his thoughts and sort them into nice little piles. He jogs to a park that sits near the MSBY dorms and takes the time to sit on one of the benches and just relax.
After about fifteen minutes, he starts to get up, ready to go back home and figure out a game plan for what he's going to do. He stops when he hears an all too familiar voice.
"Omi? Whatcha doin' out here?"
Kiyoomi freezes. How is he supposed to respond? He can't just say, Oh well actually I was thinking of how to tell you I like you and how to handle the imminent rejection awaiting me.
That's just a weird thing to say in general, but especially to Atsumu.
"Omi-Omi? Ya okay there?" Atsumu's voice sounds closer than before and he actually sounds worried.
He manages to unfreeze enough to say, "Yes, I'm fine, Miya."
"Okay," Atsumu says, though he doesn't sound too convinced.
Kiyoomi finally turns his head to look at the setter. He's dressed up, at least more than normal. A jacket is pulled over a plain maroon tee shirt and a dark pair of jeans finishes the outfit.
He looks nice, Kiyoomi thinks.
"You're dressed up," he says.
Atsumu glances down at his outfit. "Oh, yeah, I had a date. It didn' go tha' great," he says, sounding more resigned than sad.
He probably assumed it wasn't going to be that great in the first place.
"Anyway, I had some time ta kill afterwards so I decided ta take the long way home an' come through the park." Kiyoomi hums in response, not really knowing what to say to that. They stand in silence for a moment and Kiyoomi is just about to say that he needs to get home when Atsumu says, "Hey, 'm meetin' Bokkun and Sho at the cafe near the gym in a little while. Do ya maybe wanna come with? Ya don' hafta, 'm jus' wonderin'." Kiyoomi finds his head nodding before he fully processes the words being spoken but he also finds that he can't bring himself to take it back and decline when he sees the bright smile light up Atsumu's face. "Great! 'M meetin' 'em in an hour. That'll give ya time ta shower and everythin', right?"
"Yes."
"Alright! See ya in an hour, Omi-kun!"
The spiker stands there for a couple of minutes after Atsumu turns and leaves, trying to figure out why his body agreed to the outing before his brain had a chance to do anything. He swears under his breath, cursing his stupid crush on the blonde and starts the trek back home. He probably has more important things he could be doing rather than going to meet with three of the loudest people he's ever known but for the life of him, he can't find himself wanting to do any of them.
He doesn't regret coming to the cafe; it's a nice establishment, it seems clean, the staff are all very nice, and the tea he ordered is made perfectly.
It's the company he's keeping that he regrets. Bokuto and Hinata aren't any louder than they normally are but they're still being incredibly annoying and Atsumu is doing absolutely nothing to help the situation.
"Hey, Tsum-Tsum, how'd that date of yours go?" Bokuto asks, suddenly changing the subject.
"Oh, uh, not too good," Atsumu mutters. "The guy was kinda shitty."
"What happened?" Hinata asks.
"Jus' bein' a creep an' a jerk in general. Kept trying' ta put his arm 'round me, even after I told 'im no." He shrugs and takes a drink of his tea. "Told 'im ta fuck off an' left."
"How come you go on all these dates, Atsumu-san? Didn't you say you knew who your soulmate is?" Hinata asks, tilting his head to the side.
"I do know who they are. 'M jus' not sure tha' they'll wanna be together when they realize tha' 'm their soulmate."
"Why wouldn't they want that?"
Kiyoomi doesn't miss the quick glance that Atsumu gives him; it just further confirms his suspicion. "I jus' don' think they'll be okay with bein' with me."
"But you're awesome! I don't get why anyone wouldn't wanna be with you, Tsum-Tsum," Bokuto exclaims.
Atsumu flashes the man a smile. "Thanks, Bokkun. Hey, how's Akaashi-kun doin'?"
Bokuto's face lights up at the mention of his fiancé. "He's good! He's gonna try and come down to watch our next game if he can. He's got some time off that he'd like to use if the boss'll let him."
"Tha's great, Bokkun. How 'bout Tobio-kun, Sho?"
"Tobio is good too. He keeps trying to convince me they're gonna win our next match but they're definitely gonna lose next time."
"Speaking of soulmates, do you know who yours is, Omi-Omi?" Hinata asks.
Kiyoomi pauses. Does he want to confirm that he is, in fact, Atsumu's soulmate or act like he hasn't figured out who he's fated to yet? He isn't sure he's ready to say anything even slightly hinting that he knows who his soulmate is. "No, I don't." The lie comes easy, just like all of the other times he's said it, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Damn. Well, I'm sure you'll meet them soon. They have blonde hair, right?" Kiyoomi nods. "Hey, maybe it's Atsumu-san!"
Atsumu lets out a laugh that's definitely fake but if Hinata or Bokuto realize it, they don't call him out on it. "C'mon, Sho-kun. Ya really think Omi here'd want me as his soulmate?"
"It was just a suggestion," Hinata pouts.
Bokuto pats the younger man's shoulder. "It's okay, Sho. I thought about that too."
Kiyoomi is a little irritated at Atsumu's comment; not because he doesn't like the idea of Atsumu as his soulmate (he's finally come to terms with that unchanging fact over the course of the last couple hours), but because Atsumu is so sure that Kiyoomi wants nothing to do with him. A few weeks ago it wouldn't have bothered him; hell, a few days ago it probably wouldn't have bothered him much, but since he's realized his feelings for his setter, it bothers him. It's frustrating and makes him feel a little bit ill and leaves an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Does Atsumu really think that badly of himself? Does he really think Kiyoomi dislikes him that much?
He puts his mask back on and stands abruptly, making the other three look at him at the sound of the chair scraping against the tile floor. "Miya, can I talk to you for a moment?" he asks, looking at the blonde. The man gives a small nod and stands as well. Kiyoomi grabs his wrist, tugging him out of the cafe and a few yards down the block, coming to a stop in front of the empty building next door.
"What's up, Omi?"
Kiyoomi hesitates. Now that he's got Atsumu out here, all of his attention focused on him, he has no idea what to say. Or rather, he knows what he wants to say but he isn't sure how he wants to say it. Is this even the right time or place to confess? Outside next to a cafe in November? When it's already 7 in the evening and the temperature has started dropping and the sun is setting and the light hits Atsumu's hair, turning it into more of a crisp autumn gold instead of the platinum blonde he usually sports now?
"Omi?" Atsumu's voice crashes him back into reality. The setter looks concerned and probably rightly so. Kiyoomi hasn't said anything yet and they've been out here for at least a couple of minutes already.
"You're my soulmate," he blurts out. If Atsumu is surprised at Kiyoomi's outburst, he doesn't show it. Kiyoomi feels incredibly vulnerable, spilling all of this to Atsumu and out in the open for heavens sake but he doesn't want to stop now because if he does, he's just going to chicken out. "I've known since we first met at training camp our second year and I didn't want it to be true because I couldn't stand you then. But then I signed on with the team and you were still insufferable but I started to get to know you and I could tolerate you more. You're always so considerate of my boundaries, always careful not to cross them or make me feel uncomfortable. And I didn't want to admit it, to myself or anyone else, but I think I really like you because you are constantly on my mind and I can't keep you out of it."
“I’ve known ya were my soulmate fer a while,” Atsumu confesses softly. “I didn’ wanna make ya uncomfortable so I figured it’d be best if I didn’ say anythin’. I was happy jus' ta be yer friend, honestly; I knew it was a small chance that ya'd actually like me back so I didn' wanna push my luck."
"How long have you liked me?" Kiyoomi asks quietly.
"Since the start of the season."
"I just figured it out earlier today." He is not about to tell Atsumu it was because he gay panicked when watching him practice his serves earlier; that would only serve to fuel the setter's ego. "I didn't intend on telling you, at least not for a while. It-it feels weird telling you because I just realized it today but you were talking about soulmates and saying how you didn't think I'd want you as a soulmate and I got frustrated because that is the exact opposite of what I want. I do want you as my soulmate. I just . . . I needed time to realize it."
“So what do ya want ta do now?” Atsumu asks hesitantly, almost like he’s afraid of what Kiyoomi will say.
“What do-”
“No, I asked ya first, Kiyoomi. What do ya want?” Atsumu’s dark eyes are staring at him so intently and Kiyoomi finds himself captivated, both by the intense gaze and his words. Here they are, essentially confessing to each other in the streets of Osaka, and Atsumu is asking what he wants, how he wants them to proceed from here.
Fuck, he’s got it bad for this man.
“I want to date you,” Kiyoomi finds himself saying softly. “I want to hold your hand, even though I can’t stand touching other people. I want to kiss you and spend time with you outside of practice and call you my boyfriend. I want you, Atsu.”
“Damn, Omi,” Atsumu says, breathless. “Can I kiss you?” Kiyoomi nods, pulling his mask down as they lean in, their lips pressing together gently. Atsumu’s lips are softer than he thought they’d be, given the bad habit the setter has of chewing on them. They taste sweet, too, like watermelon. One of Atsumu's hands cradles his jaw carefully, like Kiyoomi is something fragile and delicate, and the other one sits on his waist, holding them close together. Kiyoomi isn't sure where to put his hands, his fingers fluttering about for a moment before finally settling on gripping Atsumu's shirt.
Atsumu pulls away but just barely. Their noses are still touching and their foreheads rest against each other. He can feel Atsumu's breath on his lips and if it were anyone else, he'd be disgusted but it's not just anyone else, it's Atsumu so it's okay. Eyes meet and Kiyoomi can't stop the smile that breaks out on his face. His setter's smile is blinding, shining like the sun and for once, Kiyoomi is okay with the thought of staring directly into it.
"I want all a' tha', too," Atsumu says softly. He glanced down at Kiyoomi's lips. "Can I kiss ya again?"
In lieu of an answer, Kiyoomi leans in and kisses him. Their second kiss is just as breathtaking as the first one and Kiyoomi thinks that he might be okay with getting addicted to this.
They separate once more, but still staying just a hair apart, and Kiyoomi smiles at Atsumu. Happiness thrums through his entire body.
"Ya really know how ta make a guy fall fer ya, dontcha Omi?" Atsumu says, grinning. "Ya wanna leave? I don' think Bokkun and Sho-kun'll mind if we leave so I can spend some time with my new boyfriend." Kiyoomi's face heats up and he buries his face into Atsumu's neck, causing Atsumu to let out a laugh. He smiles at the sound; he could get used to hearing that too, if he's the cause of it. "C'mon, Omi, let's go back ta yer place."
Kiyoomi's head moves from the setter's neck and he smirks at Atsumu. "Why, Miya, so forward. You haven't taken me on a date yet."
"Nuh uh," Atsumu says before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. "None a' tha' callin' me Miya business now tha' we're datin'."
"Alright then, Atsu."
Atsumu lets out a small whine. "How the hell're ya so damn cute, Omi-Omi?"
Kiyoomi lets out a soft laugh. "Lucky, I suppose." He reaches up, taking the hand that is still on his face and lacing their fingers together. "Now come on, let's go. We can text them and let them know we had to leave."
"Yeah, okay," Atsumu responds, still grinning brightly at Kiyoomi. The spiker turns and tugs Atsumu's hand gently, glancing back at his boyfriend (boyfriend, he thinks gleefully). He knows that he should be worried about what Bokuto and Hinata are going to think, that the two of them just disappeared or got kidnapped, that he should text them and let them know they're okay or text Motoya and tell him the good news, but he won't, not right now at least. He has more important things to do than think about all of that.