Work Text:
“This can’t be happening! That asshole!”
With all his anger, Atsumu crumpled the hastily-written note with both hands and flung the poor paper across the lobby. The rubbish bounced off from one of the shoe lockers he aimed for, falling towards the open doors, mocking him from where it landed on damp, white tiles. The sight only further fueled his fury. Having no self-restraint left, Atsumu stomped towards the crumpled note, channeling his annoyance once more to his right foot and squashing the note with it into an even sorrier state.
Black ink written on light pink paper, the note read: “Sorry I took your umbrella, ‘Tsumu! I need it to take Rin home :p - ‘Samu.”
Outside, past where the white tiles ended, rain heavily poured without a care to the world, droplets of water hitting the concrete road and creating small pools along the uneven grounds.
School has long ended, meaning that there was nobody that Atsumu could hitch an umbrella home with, now that his umbrella was stolen by his bastard of a twin. Prioritizing his stupid crush over his blood and flesh in such a dire situation— Osamu was going to pay for it by making him a dozen of tuna onigiri, at least. To say that he was mad at his twin was an understatement.
It did not help that Atsumu always took the longest to shower after volleyball practice, meaning that everyone from his volleyball team— even those in charge of cleaning up and closing the gym —had most likely gone home, leaving him, most likely, as the very last student in school. The chance of a fellow student being his saving grace has now plummeted to a saddening zero, while the likeliness of him having to wait until the rain stopped was growing even more certain.
The summer storm continued to rage outside. Under the bright lighting of the school lobby, Atsumu could make out the raindrops dancing along with the windy gust. It did not look like the rain would let up soon.
Resigned to his fate, Atsumu plopped down onto the steps that connected the lobby and the shoe lockers. He was not going to attempt to run through the rain, not when there was a risk of getting a nasty fever. It was of utmost importance to keep his health up now, with the youth summer camp inching closer.
But he was going to die of boredom alone as he waited for the rain. There were no students left in the school, after all.
He was so, so doomed.
“You shouldn’t litter in the school grounds, Atsumu.”
Or so he thought.
Atsumu yelped, a high-pitched squeak escaping his lips.
In any other situation, Atsumu would downplay his embarrassment by trying to convince whoever had caught him off guard that no, he did not just let out an indignant squawk, and that he was actually clearing his sore throat. Or he would throw curses out in the open if the ones who happened to scare him were his friends, or worse, his twin.
But that voice belonged to one person, and one person only. For Atsumu, everything about him was an exception from anyone else.
Kita Shinsuke stood right behind him, eyes crinkling and an amused smile pulling at his lips. The key of the gym dangled from his pointing finger, while hanging from the same arm was a clear, large-sized umbrella.
“K-Kita-san!” Atsumu sputtered, losing all his composure in an instant. His cheeks betrayed whatever was left of his dignity, bursting pink when it finally dawned in him that Kita— both his volleyball team’s captain and crush —was still in the school.
Kita probably arrived at the lobby not long after Atsumu found the note, and he most likely had a front row seat to witness his childish tantrum.
His luck for the day must have disappeared along with his umbrella. Atsumu decided that this was the worst day of his life.
“Ugh, you’re right though,” Atsumu continued. With a sigh, he got up and picked the now damp paper, throwing it to a nearby trash can with a flick of his fingers. Even with its deformed state, Atsumu did not miss his target, the lumpy note falling straight down the open hole. “Sorry you had to see me in that state earlier, though. I was just pissed.”
Kita hummed, waving his free hand up and down. “It’s fine. I knew you were angry,” glancing at the empty umbrella holder, his eyes glinted with a knowing look, “and I think you had a good reason to be.”
With a wiseness that surpassed his peers came a great skill in foresight, it seemed. Kita was both eerily scary and amazing due to his sharp deduction. A few of their volleyball teammates have joked that Kita could read minds, or even better, predict anyone’s behavior, and there were moments that convinced Atsumu that their captain indeed has those powers.
Now was one of those instances. “Did you know?!” Atsumu wailed, long forgetting that he had to keep his cool in front of Kita— the subject of his admiration and awe, the cause of his fluttering heart whenever he thought of his captain —when his missing umbrella was brought up again, “‘Samu, that devil, he—”
“Stole your umbrella just so he could walk Suna home, right?” Kita guessed, no longer putting effort to hide his hilarity when Atsumu was absolutely fuming at the reminder. “I knew that Osamu liked Suna ever since they first met, but I never knew he would go as far as making a move at your expense. That’s Osamu for you, I guess.”
Atsumu gawked.
First, because Kita was chuckling at him. Letting out a small, angelic laughter that did no good for his beating heart, which had been hammering away at its cage from the moment that he saw his captain. The world was so unfair, Atsumu thought, because not only did it bestow intelligence and leadership ability upon Kita, but also a charming face with an endearing laugh to match his cool, but surprisingly warm personality.
Atsumu wanted to hear that laugh again and again. He wanted to see more of Kita, more intimate moments like this, where he could see his beloved captain express his emotions freely.
Second, because Kita was teasing him?!
“Kita-san!” Atsumu protested in disbelief, “not you too!”
Humiliation stirred within him, dusting Atsumu’s cheeks pink again this evening. The setter slumped dejectedly against a shoe locker, putting both hands up to cover his face. So long to the last shred of his pride.
But, setting all that aside, Kita laughed. A full-blown laugh from his belly, eyes closing shut at the intensity of his mirth. He brought his free hand up to wipe a stray tear, brown irises peeking from between soft lashes and sparkling in fondness.
His pride might be ruined, but Atsumu certainly did not mind if it caused Kita to laugh like this. Atsumu would endure it again and again— he would endure anything —just to see Kita look happy like this.
I’m so in love with him, aren’t I? Atsumu realized, never minding it for one bit. The thought that his heart belonged to Kita, of all people, settled perfectly for him.
Because this was Kita, after all. He might be frightening when he was strict, and he might jab him with an unexpected tease or two, but underneath all that, Kita was someone who cared properly, in every thing that he did and in every person that he knew.
Falling in love with him felt just right.
“Haha, sorry, sorry,” Kita placated, after his laughter had died down. His smile stayed, though, only widening even further when he saw Atsumu’s pout. “It’s funny for anyone else, but it’s probably not for you, huh?”
Atsumu glanced at the umbrella holder, still empty of any umbrellas, then at the rain, still going strong outside, and wearily smiled. “Yeah. I can’t go home now because of him.”
With his gaze focused straight ahead, blankly staring at the downpour, Atsumu failed to notice that Kita had taken a few steps forward to close the gap between them, now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
Once again, Atsumu realized far too late of Kita’s presence, barely able to suppress another shriek when he noticed that their faces were a few centimeters away from each other. His heart leaped to his throat, blood rising along to his cheeks. From this distance, the tenderness that softened Kita’s features felt even more real and genuine.
Kita caught Atsumu’s blatant stare from the corner of his eyes, smile never faltering even though their whole situation was special, crossing the border between friendly and intimate. It was certainly far more personal than any of their encounters when their teammates were around.
“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” Kita tutted, gaze still fixed on the ongoing rain, “but you know, Atsumu, you still have some luck to save your day.”
Atsumu frowned, not quite following Kita’s train of thought. “What?
Another chuckle rang through the air, this time with a note of exasperation. But it was thick with affection, and Atsumu was having a harder time guessing what Kita meant when another chuckle came from him again.
With a flick of his wrist, the transparent umbrella that was hanging from his forearm was now held in Kita’s palm. The white, plastic handle made a soft ‘clack’ noise when it hit against the silver gym key swaying from one of his fingers.
“I’m still here, and I have an umbrella with me,” Kita helped to spell out. He bit his lips to hide the giggle fighting to slip out, and it was a hard task to do with how comical Atsumu looked, eyebrows scrunched together while his mouth gaped wide. Then, as if a magical light bulb on top of his head was flicked on, his face brightened at the realization. “I can help you get back home, Atsumu.”
This time, Atsumu cried in joy, elated enough that he leaped forward to grasp Kita’s shoulders. The feel of lean muscles beneath Kita’s summer uniform was what zapped Atsumu back to reality, immediately retracting his hands and glancing down at the white tiles, shyness peeking out. He just grabbed Kita’s shoulders, for goodness sake.
As he chanced a glance from below, Atsumu swore that there was a hint of blush on Kita’s cheeks, too. There was hope as well, shining determinant from his brown eyes.
“Really? Is that really okay, Kita-san?” Atsumu asked. For the first time this evening, Atsumu flashed his own grin, more than happy to walk home, especially with Kita.
As his answer, Kita opened the large umbrella that he carried, letting it expand to its full width before standing below it. Turning around, Kita nudged his head to the empty spot on his left side. “Of course,” Kita offered, “it’s a tight fit, though. I hope you don’t mind.”
Shaking his head, Atsumu rushed to fill his spot. “Of course not!” Atsumu replied, his beaming glee challenging the sour weather, “thank you so much, Kita-san! At least, let me hold the umbrella for you!”
Gingerly, Atsumu picked the white handle, positioning the umbrella so that more of Kita's right shoulder was protected from the rain, sacrificing his own left shoulder in the process. When Kita noticed what Atsumu was trying to do, he only huffed, the sound so full of love, before the captain used his left hand to hold onto the setter’s right arm, sticking their bodies close so that both of their shoulders were securely shielded from the weather.
This close, Kita’s body heat gradually seeped to Atsumu’s side, providing a new kind of comfort that enveloped the setter much like a warm blanket on a cold day.
This close, just the two of them, Atsumu could see adoration blooming in the softness of Kita’s eyes, in the tilt of his smile, with startling clarity.
Maybe this love that Atsumu harbored for Kita did not only hold true for the setter.
Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Kita returned Atsumu’s feelings.
“There. Hopefully, none of our shoulders will be wet now,” Kita said, content with their new position. Kita grinned, wide and mischievous, before saying, “plus, you get to pay Osamu back like this, don’t you think?”
After Atsumu’s heart thrummed out of control and his cheeks blushed a few shades darker, of course his brain chose this time to absolutely fail in functioning. He was so lost on what Kita meant by getting payback, so he intelligently muttered a soft, “huh?” instead.
Kita’s melodious laughter rang again, the sound now familiar in his ears, welcoming him with open arms. “I mean,” Kita started, tightening the grip of his left palm on Atsumu’s biceps, voice heavy with both mischief and affection, “you could come up to him after I dropped you off and say, ‘Guess what! You’re not the only one who made a move, asshole! Because a person that loves me walked me back home!’ and stick it to him. That should be enough to avenge your ruined evening, don’t you think?”
They started walking into the rain, one foot stepping forward, another following suit. Never losing rhythm despite the crampedness that they share, only synching even further, moving together to avoid puddles along the road.
Even then, Atsumu hung onto Kita’s every word, absorbing two important facts from them:
First, Kita was helping him to avenge him. Kita Shinsuke— the captain of Inarizaki High School’s volleyball club, honor student, Mr. No-Gaps —was helping him to get payback!
Second, did he just heard a love confession from Kita?!
“Wait, K-Kita-san!” Atsumu yelped, jolting out of Kita’s hold that some of his left shoulder caught the drizzle of water, “you— ‘someone who loves me back’?! Oh God, Kita-san, you don’t mean that—”
Atsumu was still reeling from the sudden confession, head full of someone who loves me back, Kita-san just confessed, Kita-san just said he loves me, he actually loves me, to catch on that Kita himself had stopped walking. When the setter took another step ahead, the captain’s hand tugged him back, causing Atsumu to bump back to Kita from the sheer hold.
There was water dripping from the unsteady umbrella, and Atsumu corrected his hold of it in a hurry, muttering apologies along the way.
But the rain and a wet uniform seemed to be the last thing on Kita’s mind.
Kita was still smiling, but this time it was shy, hesitant, as if he was worried that he had overstepped.
The love gleaming from his face was no longer hidden, though. Kita was looking at him like he was the sun on a rainy day, with a special kind of adoration radiating from his eyes, and it finally clicked within him that Atsumu had seen this kind of look before.
It was apparent in the times when he secretly caught Kita staring at him from across the gym, face softening whenever Atsumu did a perfect set or simply laughed along with their teammates. It was obvious when Kita admonished him for not taking better care of himself, ending his speech by thrusting a care package into Atsumu’s open palms and wishing him a speedy recovery with sincerity. It was visible when Kita gave the invitation of the youth summer camp to Atsumu, face graced with a pleasant smile as he told him how proud he was of knowing someone as hardworking as him.
It was apparent now, as they stood side by side, squeezed together under Kita’s umbrella.
With pink cheeks, eyes locked on Atsumu, Kita continued. “I mean every word, Atsumu,” he said, voice warm with love in the cold weather, “just so you know, I’m not saying confessing just to help you get petty revenge against your twin. I really do love you. Have been for a long while. It took me quite a while to gather courage to do this.”
The rain continued to fall against the clear umbrella, a gentle drip, drip, drip ticking against the thin material, but none of that mattered. Not when Kita said he has loved him for a long while, waiting for his answer with wide, hopeful, and loving eyes.
Just now, Atsumu thought that his luck was robbed along with his missing umbrella. That he would have to spend hours waiting at school until the rain had died down enough before walking home.
But, a miracle happened. It came and went all out, bringing him his saving grace that also happened to be the person that he loved.
The person that, in a surprising turn of events, loved him back as well.
His feelings were definitely returned. That was all the courage that Atsumu needed to wiggle out of Kita's hold, moving to hold his hand and intertwine their fingers instead, warmth shared from the skin-to-skin contact. “Then, we should hold hands like this,” Atsumu said, grinning ear to ear, because this has got to be the best day of his life, “because that’s what two people who love each other do, right?”
Kita laughed— Atsumu has lost count of how many times that his captain has laughed this evening —and pulled him along, continuing their walk to the Miya household.
Giving a careful squeeze of his hand, Kita successfully gained Atsumu’s attention once more. With a sly smile, Kita continued, “that’s right. Before we start anything, though, I think we should fix our communication first. You just confessed that you loved me too indirectly, and I did it the same way before. I’d hate it for something to happen to us because of miscommunication.”
Atsumu, this time quickly catching onto what Kita implied, sputtered. “Wait, Kita-san! You’re— you’re saying that we should date?!”
Kita’s response was another squeeze of his hand, grip tightening in confidence. “I’d love that, Atsumu,” He smiled, patiently waiting for Atsumu’s answer, “would you like that?”
With Kita’s hand in him, courage flowing from the thrill of their earlier discovery, there was one answer left for Atsumu to say: “Yes! Kita-san, I’d love to as well!”
Like this, both of their hands pressed together, walking home under the safety of his clear umbrella, the start of their newfound love took off.