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It was not supposed to go the way it went. It was not supposed to fall apart, Kiyoomi and Atsumu were not meant to drift apart, not meant to end on such a bitter note. It was meant to last. Meant to be something they could nurture for the rest of their lives. It was meant to be white picket fences, kids and pets, a quiet suburban life full of joy and happiness. It was meant to be two retired pro volleyball players, two new members of the local elementary school’s facility. It was meant to be a little family down the street who held weekly barbecue nights and made a life for themselves they’re both happy in. It was meant to be two people sitting on the swing sofa in their backyard, cuddling and admiring the sunset, wrinkled hands intertwined.
Kiyoomi can still taste the bitter words on his lips. We just don’t work. Half of it was true; Kiyoomi didn’t work. He was so overwhelmed by all the prospects their relationship had and by the small amount of time he could spend with Atsumu. Their schedules never seemed to align, something always came up and the promises whispered into the quiet night under Atsumu’s covers a week before Kiyoomi started college amounted to nothing in the end. Kiyoomi felt he was not enough for Atsumu, that he was too self-centered to be concentrating so much on his studies. But Atsumu… Atsumu always understood and never pushed, which is why Kiyoomi probably exploded that April. He hated that Atsumu was okay with how selfish Kiyoomi was being. He hates himself and Atsumu and their situation and it was eating him alive.
The two summers they’ve spent together were picture perfect: two kids in love, attached at the hip, causing mischief at every chance they got. Kiyoomi could never forget how much fun it was to wreak havoc with Atsumu. Omi, whaddaya mean you’ve never TP’d a house? C’mon, we’re goin’ over to Sunarin’s ‘nd I’ll teach you. Everything they did together lived vividly in his memories and not a day had gone by when he wasn’t reminded by something small of their adventures.
The creaking of chalk on the blackboard brought back memories from when Atsumu surprised him outside of his school around the end of senior year. The blonde stood by the window of Kiyoomi’s class, sitting down on the grass at one point, but not once did he show any sign of being impatient or uncomfortable. He toyed around with his phone and sketched in his notebook (something Kiyoomi learned that day he loved doing and was actually good at it).
The sound of bees reminded him of the time they went to a field in Hyogo that was the Kita’s property, according to Atsumu, and were attacked by a swarm of bees after Kiyoomi accidentally killed one of them.
The rain tapping on the window was the sound that accompanied Kiyoomi’s hurtful and angry words.
The last one was much less pleasant than the others.
Still, even if it had been almost three years since they broke up, it felt like a lifetime. Kiyoomi was, however cliché it might sound, a shell of himself without Atsumu by his side. At first, he was desperate to contact him again; he had to keep reminding himself that even though Atsumu loved cute cats, he would not appreciate Kiyoomi sending him the video he found on YouTube at 3 AM. Then, when he finally thought he was clean, his team played the MSBY Jackals, which would have been fine, if it wasn’t Atsumu’s tryouts game. Kiyoomi didn’t show, instead, he curled up on his couch and put on a random cooking show to take his mind off of Atsumu and how he might feel about Kiyoomi not showing up to their match. It was pathetic. The final stage of his getting over Atsumu was complete blockage. He refused to consume any media that could mention Atsumu and made himself a burner Instagram account no one really knew about. He still got updates about the blonde from Motoya, because both of them knew Kiyoomi’s halfhearted attempts to avoid the topic were all an act. From what his cousin told him, Atsumu was doing well. He managed to adjust to his new team which Kiyoomi knew he was very anxious about, and is in good hands with Meian and Bokuto on the team. He’s rumored to be dating the former, though nothing’s confirmed, and the thought of that does not break Kiyoomi’s heart even further, thank you very much.
He seemed to be fine and Kiyoomi also kind-of thought of himself as fine, which is why he agreed to go to a big Japan Volleyball Association gala at the end of the season.
He was done with his thesis and even though he was MVP of his collegiate volleyball team, he knew he had to go out there and socialize in order for any team to consider him as their potential new wing spiker. At least, that’s what Atsumu did before he was recruited by the Black Jackals.
Obviously, he was aware that Atsumu would also probably be at the event, however, he counted on it being a big venue with a bunch of people so he could blend in the crowd and go unnoticed. Of course, Kiyoomi’s luck was never good.
The night started out fine, if a little chaotic. He forgot his tie, which Motoya assured him was fine, but he still felt self-conscious about, but tried to make-do with what he had and went for a less classy look with the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Motoya called him a slut, but Kiyoomi knew it was said in an affectionate manner.
“Kiyo, promise me that if you see Atsumu, you won’t run away like a fucking coward and actually try to be civil with him, okay?” His cousin asked as they pulled up to the building the gala was held in.
Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and put on his pink medical mask (sue him, it was a nice color); “I promise. Let’s go. The valet’s waiting for you to hand him the keys.” And with that, Kiyoomi hastily exited the car and waited for Motoya to do so as well.
The two men took the elevator up to the 11th floor where, as Motoya put, “the action was happening” and Kiyoomi mentally prepared for all the coaches and sponsors he’d have to make small talk with in order to put himself out there. He shuddered at the thought.
“Kiyoomi,” his cousin called when the display reached floor 6, “Are you gonna be okay?”
The genuine concern in his voice made Kiyoomi’s heart swell. “Sure. It’s been three years, I’m good. Besides, we probably might not even meet, if the guest list is as extensive as you said.”
Motoya hummed and gently patted the curly haired man’s shoulder. Kiyoomi let out a final sigh as the elevator came to a halt.
As they stepped out of the lift, Motoya made a beeline for the open bar (typical), leaving Kiyoomi all alone.
He wandered into the crowd, brushing past people without a care, when someone suddenly stopped in front of him.
“Sakusa-san!” the ginger boy, no, man, Hinata was a man now, called, “So good to see you here! How are you?”
“Mr. I got a fever and got benched, good to see you too!” He hoped Hinata picked up on his joking tone, otherwise their conversation was about to be real awkward. “I’m good. Just graduated. How about you?”
Hinata snorted, seemingly understanding the joke, then replied; “Just got back from Brazil a few days ago! Man, I can’t believe we’d run into each other here! What are the chances?”
Kiyoomi observed the younger boy, looking for tell-tale signs of a trip abroad when he caught sight of a mop of blonde head in his peripheral vision. “What are the chances indeed.”
He tried not to let his lack of focus on their conversation show as he chatted with Hinata. His eyes seemed to want to scan the room every two seconds, waiting for something. For Atsumu to spot Kiyoomi? For Kiyoomi to spot Atsumu? He didn’t know, all he knew was that it felt like second nature to look for Atsumu in the crowd and he could not tell if it was a good or a bad thing.
“Anyways, I’m thinking of joining the MSBY Black Jackals. Bokuto’s on the team and they also have Miya-san as their setter and I’ve been waiting years for him to fulfill his promise about setting to me.”
Ah, yes, the infamous promise Atsumu made to Hinata during the Inter High and the same promise he made Kiyoomi in the first Youth Training Camp. Sweet memories that were definitely not tainted by Kiyoomi’s refusal to go pro immediately after high school. Nope.
“Oh, it would be so cool of you were on the team too! Have you considered to join them? We could go to tryouts together next month!”
Hinata’s excitement sent a pang of guilt through Kiyoomi’s stomach. He felt even more guilty when his eyes caught sight of Atsumu again and he shifted his attention on him. All he replied to Hinata was a halfhearted “Yes, could you excuse me for a second?” and promptly left the man standing by the tables.
He did not know where he was going but he knew he had to get out of there. He wasn’t as strong as he thought he was and he clearly was not as over Atsumu as he thought he was, if the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and blurring his vision are anything to go by.
Without thinking, he stormed up on the staircase, all the way to the roof of the building. God, he was so pathetic. Atsumu hadn’t even looked at him, yet he felt like bursting with all the emotions bubbling inside of him. Guilt, anger, regret, love. It was too overwhelming.
He let himself collapse by the wall next to the edge of the building and hurriedly took his mask off. He needed air but it felt like it was ripped out of his lungs at every breath he took. It was not a pleasant feeling.
He managed to regulate his breathing after a few minutes, but his heartbeat was still through the roof. He knew he couldn’t do anything about that, though.
He pulled his phone out to text Motoya, but his hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they navigated to his phone’s hidden photos folder. Otherwise known as Pandora’s Box. Occasionally referred to as his Atsumu collection. The latter usually by Motoya whenever he’s teasing Kiyoomi.
Since he’s subconsciously a masochist, he tapped on his favorite photo of Atsumu.
It was taken a month before his breakdown, in his dorm room. Atsumu had just barely woken up (he was never an early bird) and though Kiyoomi was already dressed and ready to go to class, he waited for his boyfriend (at the time) to open his eyes so he could bid him a proper goodbye. He remembered being mesmerized by the way the sunlight caught on Atsumu’s half-awake form. He pulled out his phone without thinking and snapped a picture, right before Atsumu playfully pulled Kiyoomi down besides him, demanding three more minutes of cuddles, which was exactly how much time Kiyoomi had left until he had to leave. Atsumu knew him too damn well. Kiyoomi scolded Atsumu, because he was already in street clothes and I’ll have to wash my sheets again, Atsu. Atsumu just hummed and snuggled closer to Kiyoomi. They both knew the spiker didn’t really mind doing laundry if it meant Atsumu’s touch.
The tears were falling unstoppably and Kiyoomi had a bittersweet smile on his face, eyes still glued to the phone in his hand.
He was knocked from his daze by the roof door slamming open. Kiyoomi scrambled to lock his phone and wipe his tears, because whoever it was, Kiyoomi was 100% sure he did not want them to see him in such a state.
He sniffled quietly and looked up at the figure approaching him.
His heartbeat, time and everything else seemed to stop as he realized who was standing in front of him.
“Omi,” Atsumu breathed and the tears came back full-force.
Kiyoomi suddenly felt so pathetic, sitting on a rooftop, crying about his ex, whom he broke up with, while said ex seemed so put together and fine.
“Omi,” Atsumu started again and Kiyoomi very pointedly avoided looking into his eyes. “Why are ya sittin’ up here all alone?”
“Needed some air,” is all he replied and he received an understanding hum as a reply.
He glanced up at Atsumu and saw the man eyeing him curiously. “Can I sit?”
“Sure,” Kiyoomi replied quietly. Who he was to tell Atsumu no?
He let the silence hang over them, twisting the phone in his hands and looking nowhere but at his lap.
Of course, Atsumu was never the quiet type. “Are ya okay? Do you have your inhaler on ya?”
Kiyoomi’s heart felt like it had a knife twisting in it. He could not believe his ears. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“What d’ya mean, Omi-kun?” Atsumu replied, making Kiyoomi tear up even more.
“I- I broke your heart. Shattered it to pieces, if Osamu’s threatening texts I’ve received after are anything to go by,” a bitter laugh left Kiyoomi’s mouth, “Why aren’t you mad? Why aren’t you screaming at me and lecturing me on how much of a prick I am?”
The thought of Atsumu faking niceness out of pity sickened him to his stomach. He’d rather have the blonde yell at him with his full chest.
“I… Kiyoomi, ya did, I won’t deny that but… I still care about ya. Just because ya dumped me, I didn’t just magically stop bein’ concerned about ya.”
And wasn’t that just the icing on the cake? Atsumu, the jerk who was dumped, still caring for Kiyoomi, the jerk who dumped him.
Kiyoomi sniffled again. “I’m fine. Thank you. Feel free to go back to the party. I’ll be fine. I always am okay alone, you know that.”
Atsumu sighed, “Yes, but- Omi, ya don’t have to be okay alone, ya know that, right? I get it if ya don’t wan’ me here-“
“That’s not it,” Kiyoomi interrupted without thinking and risked looking into Atsumu’s eyes for the first time since he sat down next to him. “I dom’t deserve this. I don’t deserve your- your care.”
“What, because ya broke my heart? Kiyoomi, ya should know best how easy it is for me to forgive.”
Kiyoomi broke down at that, and even though he felt pathetic, he let himself sob with his full body. He let out everything he’s been holding in since he first saw Atsumu at the gala.
The blonde, to his credit, waited until Kiyoomi finally took in a final breath and extended a tissue towards him. He begrudgingly accepted it and blew his nose.
“Look, I- I can’t image how ya must feel, but I definitely know how I feel, and the least I can do is try to make ya feel that way; I am not mad at ya. I was, for about two weeks, then Sunarin, of all people, made me see reason; we weren’t right for each other, at the time. We were young and stupid and thought we had the world in our hands. I remember thinkin’ after almost every argument that ya were right, but I never admitted it, and that should’ve been the first tip-off that I wasn’t mature enough for ya-“
“You were never in the wrong,” Kiyoomi interrupted again, overwhelmed. “You were- Gods, you were perfect,” he confessed, “You were understanding, kind, you never complained when I cancelled on you or when I had to rush to class even though you were only able to get away from the team for a few hours. I was selfish and thought it was natural that you were the one making the sacrifices-“
“We both were. Making sacrifices I mean. I remember yer boundaries were very much different when I met ya-“
“That was not a sacrifice. That was second nature, letting you get close to me,” Kiyoomi said, “There was not one instance I didn’t take you for granted. I had the audacity to cancel on you, because I knew we’d reschedule. I knew you’d make time for me and it was selfish of me not to make time for you.”
Atsumu stayed quiet after that and Kiyoomi had half a mind to tell him to go back to the party, but the blonde spoke up again. It was barely above a whisper, yet Kiyoomi heard it clear as day. “I never noticed that,” he raised his voice a bit, no longer talking under his breath, “Making time for ya was second nature to me, that’s why I never considered what ya said. Because deep down, I knew that ya wanted to spend whatever time we got with me. It didn’t matter if it was on Sunday or the Friday after, I always looked forward to seeing ya. And I never held yer cancelling against ya.”
It was Kiyoomi’s turn to be quiet. Well, as quiet as he could be while crying.
“Will ya let me know what’s wrong now?” Atsumu asked, and Kiyoomi let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
He glanced up at Atsumu and noted the genuine concern on his face. It twisted the knife in his chest again. “I- I thought I was ready to see you again. I thought I was okay, that I’ve moved on. But then I saw you, and now you’ve caught me sobbing over a goddamn picture-“
“What picture?” Atsumu asked and what hurt the most was that Kiyoomi knew, even after all these years, that Atsumu was genuinely curious about it and had no ulterior motives, like to make fun of Kiyoomi.
The curly haired man unlocked his phone and shoved it into Atsumu’s hand.
The blonde man gasped. “Ya still have this? Ya still have all of these?” Kiyoomi assumed he was going through the folder. Oh, well. Nothing to do about it now.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I guess I- I never could really let you go. But… That’s the reason why I never contacted you. Well, besides the whole I-broke-your-heart thing. I didn’t want to hold you back, just because- Just because I stayed behind.”
“Omi-“
“And, I don’t want this to change anything now, especially with you and Meian-“
“Me and who?” Atsumu sounded genuinely confused, and Kiyoomi observed his quizzical expression. He kind of missed that look.
“Motoya told me there was something going between you two, and please, don’t deny it just because I’m all pathetic-“
“What? Why would Komori say that?” Atsumu seemed to be genuinely upset about that, and Kiyoomi didn’t really know what to do with the situation, opting to stay quiet and wait for the blonde to elaborate. “Me and Meian, now that would be something. I promise, Omi, there’s nothin’ goin’ on between us. He’s my capt’n and that’s about it.”
“No- See, you don’t have to promise me anything. Because it’s been three goddamn years and you’re free to be with whoever you want without having to explain it to your ex-“
“You are so much more than that.”
It felt like time had stopped, yet again. Kiyoomi kept his gaze downcast still, not daring to look up at Atsumu, hearing what he might find on his face. Regret? Anger?
“Omi… Look at me, please?” Atsumu coaxed, but Kiyoomi didn’t budge. “Kiyoomi, please?”
Damn it. Kiyoomi gave in and raised his gaze at Atsumu, who in turn, softly reached for his jaw and with a feather-light touch angled Kiyoomi’s whole face towards his. Kiyoomi let even more tears slip when he noticed the city lights reflecting on Atsumu’s wet cheeks.
“Yer- I don’t know if I can put it into words what ya did- and, it seems, still do to me. Yer the most annoying jerk I’ve ever known, yet I can’t seem to hate ya, though not for lack of tryin”,” Kiyoomi let a quiet laugh slip, thinking back to Atsumu saying these exact same words to him when they were 16 and sharing a room at a training camp. “I’ve tried to move on. I really did. I thought gettin’ out of the spaces we used to share, even for just a few hours, will give me a fresh start, but no matter where I went, everythin’ was haunted by ya. I could not go a day without being reminded of ya, no matter the city or country. I hated that I couldn’t have more time for ya. I kept telling myself yer better off, but I had that nagging voice in the back of my head remindin’ me of yer smile, the one ya had reserved for me. I didn’t contact ya either, figuring the same thing ya just explained. I didn’t wanna hold ya back. But- I think I’ve waited enough and maybe it’s a bit of liquid courage as well, but I- I love ya. So much. And if I’m pickin’ up on it correctly, ya still feel somethin’ for me, and if not then Gods, this is gonna be one embarrassin’ moment.”
Kiyoomi was full on crying by the time Atsumu finished and had to take a second to compose himself.
“I… I love you, too. Loved you since you stunk from that disgusting AXE body spray you swore was doing wonders to you. I- don’t think I’ve ever stopped holding out for you. I always thought it was just that I didn’t find the right person but- I knew back then and I know now that deep down, you were the one I was waiting for. Even though I’m selfish and don’t deserve you, I still am waiting for you.”
“Yer not selfish, Kiyoomi, and you do deserve me. We deserve each other. We deserved each other back then, too, but our timing was off and we needed to grow up. Do you still believe in destiny, Omi?” Kiyoomi mutely nodded. Atsumu smiled. “I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I wasn’t even supposed to be in Tokyo tonight.”
“What?”
“I was supposed to help Osamu move into his new place today, in Osaka. But the movin’ company messed up the dates, and Osamu called me about two hours before the event about it. And I called Ma, to pass the time, but then she convinced me to come. Said I can never know what I might miss if I don’t show.”
Kiyoomi let out a snort. “Your Ma always had a sixth sense about these things, hadn’t she?”
“Yeah, she sure did.”
As Kiyoomi gazed into Atsumu’s eyes, he knew they were both recalling the time Atsumu invited the friend he made at a training camp over for New Years. His mom smiled so sweetly at Kiyoomi, then promptly told him he could marry Atsumu if he wanted. Kiyoomi was very confused, because he was just Atsumu’s best friend, but then he thought really hard about it (as hard as a 16-year-old could think about something like this) and had an epiphany and decided he was going to kiss Atsumu at midnight. Might be why their anniversary was the first day of the new year, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Will ya go on a not-first first date with me, Sakusa Kiyoomi?” Atsumu asked, breaking the silence.
“I- Yes, of course, Atsumu.”
The blonde’s eyes lit up and Kiyoomi let his special Atsumu smile take over his face. He seemingly managed to break the man by doing so, if the dazed expression was anything to go by.
“I really want to kiss ya right now, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu breathed, face inching closer to Kiyoomi’s.
“Good, because I really want to kiss you too, Atsu.”
The nicknames fell so easily, and it was like a weight he’d been carrying for the past three years was lifted off his shoulders when their lips finally met.
There weren’t fireworks or explosions like in all those romantic movies, just two people, melting into each other, both of them finally coming home.
They would have to have a long talk about their relationship and future, Kiyoomi was aware, but at that moment, on a mundane Thursday, up on a random rooftop in Tokyo, he knew; it’s going to be something worth nurturing for the rest of their lives. It’s going to be white picket fences, kids and pets, a quiet suburban life full of joy and happiness. It’s going to be two retired pro volleyball players, two new members of the local elementary school’s facility. It’s going to be a little family down the street who held weekly barbecue nights and made a life for themselves they’re both happy in. It’s going to be two people sitting on the swing sofa in their backyard, cuddling and admiring the sunset, wrinkled hands intertwined.
It’s going to be Kiyoomi and Atsumu, overcoming every obstacles they face, together.