Chapter Text
Contrary to what others believed, Osamu didn’t exactly trust Atsumu; he never listened to him, he never returned the things he borrowed, and he lied constantly. But, throughout their short lives, none of that ever mattered.
Their grandmother’s explanation for that remained the same - when it came to twins, the one thing that can be trusted is their bond to each other.
Osamu never bothered thinking about the weight that clung to those words. He didn't care once he became old enough to realize that their relationship as twins was permanent.
Atsumu was the twin getting tired of facing reality.
He figured it was because Atsumu finally realized he was not as important a person as he believed he was.
The self-absorbed nature of his twin made him lose sight of the lack of fundamental self-awareness a person needed. It was an aspect of Atsumu’s reality that Osamu had always taken upon himself to be responsible for. To be a dutiful sibling and respect that relationship by filling in on what his twin lacked. Annoyingly so. A permanent job for a permanent bond.
Of course, the outcome was akin to a double-edged sword. Not like the lean, unswerving katana his grandmother probably believed they could be together as twins.
It was not how things always had been - it was actually fun at first.
The type of fun that brought on pure, unbridled joy in the earlier days of their youth, the lack of competition from the masses of others made them believe they were unstoppable.
Never minding the constant tiffs and contradictions, the reputation they both shared as remarkably blessed children had been something that encouraged Atsumu to pursue a multitude of interests to test the limits of those blessings and good luck. Not too harmful of an idea for a pair of curious children. Pursuing one thing and acquiring a new taste for another was the regular practice until the later years of their teenagehood.
Perhaps that was why, as observed by neighbours and relatives in their ever prevalent commentary, it was only natural for activities that involved a near-constant companion, activities where the competition was solely with each other, to soon become scornful things that only aided in making the other twin seem to be quite a nuisance in time.
At times, when Osamu had second thoughts, there was a constant one that came to mind. If it weren’t for his presence, the lack of competition and confrontation that Atsumu would have faced always made his earlier co-curricular and engagements seem too tedious to practice or pay heed to.
And, yet, with his twin - or was it because they were twins? - the gradual disinterest would eventually accumulate, and Atsumu would move on, irritable and disappointed, to another passing interest that he hoped might be his hidden calling. Osamu would follow in tow. Because he was the good twin that trusted in keeping the bond.
What mainly made Osamu fed up was when Atsumu moved on from an interest. His twin would throw a fit akin to the arrogant young feudal lord of a bygone era, with the words of a sailor and the temper of a hotheaded samurai. It was at those times that Osamu’s thoughts would unwittingly return to one that he faithfully believed to be the reason for Atsumu’s unhappiness - the kami’s blessing.
The story was short enough to be summarized on the wooden, lacquered slab that stood at the entrance of the family shrine. Two sculptures of Inari Foxes stood at either side of the base of steps that led up the shrine's entrance. Their purpose was to guide and act as intermediaries between Heaven and Earth. At times of turmoil or great providence, they would bestow their blessing upon a chosen individual, dedicated year-round in their offers and servitude.
The story of the two foxes and the birth of two sons to the shrine's caretaker would never be dismissed as a coincidence.
And, true to the kami’s words, as the days passed by and adulthood had reached them both, there was no one that entered either of their lives as blessed in their unique abilities to be a worthy partner or adversary that wasn’t one twin to the other.
During one of his dramatic episodes, an eighteen-year-old Atsumu made his way up the stairs of his family’s shrine and threw another childish fit of anger. He proclaimed that he would prove those good blessings granted by the kami upon his birth as hearsay.
Osamu felt the need to intervene and say that they were both blessed. But he figured that he wouldn’t fret about worthless details when he knew the outcome anyway.
The blind beliefs held by his parents in the old gods were not wrong and unfounded in Osamu’s eyes. They were part of the constant of his life, permanent as his lifelong bond with Atsumu. Even if there were to be one day that Atsumu would have the ability to confront those pair of kitsune statues that guarded the family shrine, to have a chance to audaciously tell them that they were fake beings of carved stone, the purpose of his goal would have been of no consequence since they would turn out to be stone.
It should be obvious by now which twin held the brain cells.