Chapter Text
Atsumu drove away.
Tears streaming down his cheeks faster than his car, he knew it wasn’t a good idea to be on the road especially with his eyes blurring up by the second. He let his reflexes take over the car, grateful that his driving skills were well enough to do so. Atsumu willed himself to stop the tears, not wanting to cry. He soon found himself going a familiar way, as the winds and turns of the road took him to a shop he knew all too well.
It was once an asylum for Atsumu, it was. When he had trouble perfecting his newest serve, he would walk in with a slump and leave with his head held high, all thanks to a tuna and spring onion flavored food. He salivated at the thought of it, a bitter taste forming in both his mouth and heart. From inside the car, his body could feel the small distance, his stomach grumbling for a taste. His eyes looked up and focused on the familiar sign.
Onigiri Miya.
His safe place.
His heart clenched as he thought of sitting on the counters in the kitchen, only to be smacked with a kitchen towel that always seemed to hit the same spot on his arm. It cried at the thought of the times when his brother would attempt to teach him how to make onigiri properly, only to shake his head and make it himself.
It was his safe haven.
Supposedly.
Atsumu’s hands began to shake as he picked up the phone. He could barely type in his password, let alone drive his car even if he had good reflexes.
He should probably call someone.
Sho-kun?
No, he was at Koganei for the week to meet Tobio-kun.
Bokkun?
As much as he loved his teammate, he didn’t think Bokuto would be of much help and Akaashi-san would probably give him advice rather than comfort.
Kita-san? Aran-san?
No, he didn’t want to burden them with this. It might even ruin the business relationship Kita-san and Osamu have.
Atsumu sighed as he subconsciously changed his mind out of respect for his brother. He was about to go back on his word when another name came onto his screen as he scrolled down his contacts.
With a deep breath, Atsumu called it, hoping that the person would pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sunarin.”
***
Atsumu pulled into the driveway of his ex (in many ways), streetlights guiding him and the clock in his car showed ten pm. Having a destination certainly stilled his mind and eyes for the time being, but it reminded him of the calm before the storm. For the last five hours, his body and brain were on autopilot, hyper-focusing on the drive to distract him from his feelings. Parking in front of a tall apartment building in Nagano, he made his way to the elevator inside.
Time came to a standstill as he crossed levels, the music far too loud for his liking. He waited for the seventeen to appear on the screen, looking down as he walked out.
“Hey Tsumu, come on in.”
Suna was waiting for him on the threshold of his house, Atsumu missing the sight since he was too focused on his shoes. He followed his ex inside, surprised at how full of life the apartment looked. Plants and vines adorned the terrace door, complimenting the off-white hue of the walls.
He was gestured to sit on the end of a fluffy brown couch, which bore a striking resemblance to the one in his family house, recalling the number of times his team and family had nodded off on it. The room was small, but cozy, accompanied by a small kitchen. The lights were warm, making Atsumu at ease as he took off his jacket and sank down in his seat. He could hear Suna rummage around in the kitchen, finally appearing with two beers in hand that he placed on the coffee table in front of them.
Suna looked older, but then again who didn’t nowadays. He certainly was more fit, courtesy of EJP, most likely. His hair was cut a bit shorter on the sides but still framed his face in the same way as before. The style he had adopted in high school seemed to have carried into adulthood as he sat on the opposite end of the couch, curling his knees covered by dark-colored joggers to his black shirt-clad chest. Atsumu briefly wondered if this was what Suna would look like if they had dated up until now, but the thought was dismissed as soon as it came.
The two of them were quiet, each second making it glaringly obvious that conversation would only start if Atsumu wishes it to. In any other scenario, he would have said something dumb and lightened the mood, but it was clear that it wasn’t that kind of situation.
Atsumu took a deep breath and simply breathed out, “I caught Sakusa and Osamu in bed together today,” his voice hitching at the end, his eyes welling up seconds after.
Suna pushed himself up from his side of the couch, slowly scooting towards Atsumu, who was more so focused on not crying for what felt like the millionth time that day. However, as soon as Suna’s hand found his back, he broke. He felt himself being gathered up by someone who he thought to be the least affectionate person he had met, and he was held with such care that it made him cry more.
He cried because of Sakusa. He cried because of his brother. He cried because he would have to see them again. He cried because he didn’t want to quit his team. He cried because he didn’t want to lie to his disappointed parents about what had happened. He cried because he lost his home. He cried because he was sad. He cried just because.
Suna didn’t let go of him the whole time.
***
Atsumu didn’t know how long he was crying for, but when the tears began to subside and the hiccups started instead, Suna asked if he wanted to talk about it, his arms retreating to Atsumu’s back, offering gentle rubs.
“There’s nothing to say, right? It is what it is. Plus, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” he replied, muttering the last part, but it was still audible.
Suna gave Atsumu a ghost of sad smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t say I was an amazing partner, and hell, I did the same thing Sakusa-san did. I knew it was over between me and you the second I realized I had feelings for Osamu too.”
Atsumu merely listened, the fear of finding out more loomed over him. As much as he wanted Suna to continue, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
“I’m still surprised you never asked why, you know?”
Suna’s hands stopped moving in circles and instead began tracing random patterns.
“I’m glad you didn’t ask though. At the time, I thought I couldn’t handle you. You were everything I wasn’t - extroverted, warm, understanding. It’s not an excuse, but I was insecure. You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you, but Osamu just knew. That’s what I used to think at least, that he understood me better than you because he could tell when I wasn’t okay. If you had asked the day after the locker room, I would have just gotten mad and told you it was because you didn’t understand me.”
Atsumu’s eyes dried as he heard the other man speak. His mouth opened to say something but was interrupted by a raise of Suna’s hand.
“Let me finish please.”
It was a good thing considering Atsumu didn’t know what he was going to say.
“It was only after school I realized it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I did love you, Tsumu. A lot. But as close as I became with you, I would also be with Osamu. It made me confused. I’m not providing an excuse, mind you. It’s just what happened. And when Osamu flirted with me, it made me think that I had the best of both worlds. And then I lost both.”
Atsumu swallowed before asking silently if he could speak. After a nod, he took a breath, “I don’t blame you. It’s okay to be confused, but it wasn’t okay to hurt me like that. I was more so pissed at the fact that my own brother would go that far to think about what you had done, to be completely honest.”
Suna nodded but said no more.
A minute or two of silence passed before he opened his mouth again.
“Yeah, Samu is an asshole.”
“I mean-”
“Tsumu. Stop. What he did was wrong, no one deserves to be cheated on. Doing it once is horrible enough, but twice? There’s no excuse for that, especially since he’s your twin,” Suna interrupted with more emotion than what Atsumu had seen in all of their four years together in Inarizaki, causing him to crack a smile for the first time that day.
“I was gonna say when was he not.”
Suna’s eyes widened a bit as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, you finally got that right. I don’t know what the hell Sakusa-san was thinking.”
Sakusa.
The mention of the name itself was enough for Atsumu’s heart to go berserk.
He exhaled, letting out air that he didn’t realize he was holding - if only he could do the same with the love he still felt for his ex-boyfriend.
“I don’t know either,” Atsumu replied after a moment. “I thought we were okay, you know? We weren’t all sunshine and rainbows and I assumed that was okay. We didn’t have to be - we knew, or at least I thought we knew, that we loved each other. There were days when his fixation on germs would be bad and we would just stay home and in the bathtub doing nothing. There were days when I would push myself extra hard and he would cuddle with me, even though I knew sometimes he wasn’t up for it.”
He knew he was crying, Suna knew he was crying, the neighbors probably knew he was crying, but he didn’t care.
“Perhaps we loved each other once upon a time. I just hope it wasn’t all a lie. Or maybe, I just wasn’t cut out for a stable and long-term relationship.”
“It’s not like you to give up on something.”
“I’m the fool, here. It’s better to just give up something that reminds me of what I feel right now. If in another reality I had pretended not to know and continued like nothing had happened, I’d give it a week before I crumbled from the stress. I may not love myself all the time, but right now I can say I know I deserve the respect I give, especially in a relationship.”
“Look at you being mature,” a teasing tone lifting the somber mood in the house.
“Please, when was I not,” Atsumu chuckled, leaning back into the sofa, tired out from the events of the day.
“I seem to recall a certain person stealing my ball and setting it on the first touch out of absolutely fucking nowhere.”
The two men leaned back into the sofa, opening up the beer that was room temperature by then, reminiscing about their lives in high school when the biggest things on their minds were exams and volleyball.
***
Atsumu spent the weekend at Suna’s and to the delight of his sanity, not all of their time was spent talking about their emotionally complicated past. They even did normal things, like attempting to bake a cake and watching movies till the sun came up. The two would go on walks, talking about memories from high school, once bitter memories becoming sweet. Suna would talk about Raijin, his love for volleyball being far more noticeable than before. They spent most of the daytime in a clearing by the apartment, receiving and passing one of Suna’s many battered-up balls. It was ordinary and calm, something Atsumu hadn’t been able to get for a long time. There were times when normalcy was forgotten and he was reminded of what was waiting for him in Osaka, but Suna was right there to pull him out of it. But as much as he could spend the rest of his time hiding away in Nagano, he knew eventually he would have to face the music.
“If you need anything, you know what to do,” Suna said from outside the open window, crossing his arms as he looked down to Atsumu in the driver’s seat.
“Really?”
“Do not spam me with random videos on your feed. Your social media is cursed, man.”
“Damn and here I thought we were friends,” Atsumu smirked.
“If being friends with you means I have to be subjected to thousands of posts about things that people should clearly keep private, then I respectfully decline.”
Atsumu laughed boisterously, the sound becoming more and more common as the days in Suna’s house progressed.
“Thank you, Sunarin. It means a lot that you did this for me.”
Suna sighed, bringing his head down to eye level with Atsumu, flicking him on the forehead with his middle finger.
“I did what any friend would do, dumbass. Now, take care of yourself and if you need to hide their bodies, give me a call. I know a guy.”
“I don’t know if that was a joke or not, but I will keep that in mind.”
“I’m not commenting on that.”
Atsumu reversed out of the driveway, ignoring the feeling of despair in his stomach. He wasn’t thrilled about meeting his brother and ex-boyfriend after only two days of healing, but it wasn’t like he could play hooky.
At least this time he knew there was someone to help him should he fall back down again.
***
Atsumu parked his car outside the stadium, watching the phone ring for the third time in the span of fifteen minutes.
Samu.
Getting over Sakusa would be hard, but it wasn’t impossible. Atsumu was aware of how to heal after a breakup of this kind.
Things got complicated when it came to his brother though.
He didn’t know where to start.
Atsumu’s thoughts were interrupted as he saw a flash of orange alongside silver race into the building, both already in their gear and clearly very warmed up. A small smile found its way onto his face, for once being excited to return back to his team.
He stood outside the court, bag in hand, taking in the comfort the court had to offer him.
Though, it didn’t last long.
He could see Omi practicing opposite Sho-kun and Bokkun. His wrists bent with precision as each spike bounced off the line, providing no room for error. Omi’s hands ran through his curly hair as his own twitched beside him wishing to do the same.
Atsumu felt all the work he had put in with Sunarin dissipate away.
Sakusa, not Omi.
Sakusa, not Omi.
Sakusa, not Omi.
Omi. Omi. Omi.
His head blared, his brain fixated on a stupid three-letter nickname.
“Tsum-Tsum! Good morning! Set for me, I wanna spike!” an energetic voice rang through, causing all heads to turn towards him.
All eyes were on him.
He’s used to being the center of attention, why is today any different?
Why can’t he say anything?
Why aren’t they saying anything?
They are, he can make out their mouths moving.
They hate him, don’t they?
“Atsumu-kun, can we talk in private?” he could hear Coach Foster speak from the sidelines, most of it being drowned out by the sounds in his head.
Oh.
They think he’s not good enough. Atsumu wished he could say he was surprised.
They probably think Omi was right in being with Osamu and not him.
Sakusa, not Omi.
His eyes met charcoal and that was the tipping point. To say he tried and sucked it up for the sake of the team would be a lie - Atsumu was a self-centered, arrogant prick. Everyone knew that, himself included.
So he ran.
He ran out the door, faintly hearing the confused yells of his teammates. He ran past his car with, once again, no destination in mind. Faint footsteps of someone could be heard behind him, but he couldn’t be bothered to check who it was. He could hear them screaming out, begging him to stop, but the gap widened as Atsumu pushed on. He ducked into an alleyway, which if it was darker was definitely the kind of place he was told to stay away from. Hiding behind a garbage dump, he couldn’t help but think about what Sakusa would say if he saw him - on his knees next to a petri dish of germs.
Don’t think about Omi, think about anything else. Don’t think about Omi. Think about Omi. Don’t think about Omi.
Omi. Omi. Omi.
The name repeated itself as Atsumu drowned in himself, his breath becoming short and his heart pounding in no set rhythm, throwing every thought offbeat.
The team definitely knows by now.
Atsumu’s hands were on his ears, in hopes of blocking out the blaring voices in his head.
They’re disappointed in him.
They probably can’t believe that he’s managed to find yet another partner who cheated on him with his own twin brother.
They’re likely coming up with a way to throw him out.
A setter and a spiker need to trust each other - what trust was left between him and Omi?
Omi.
Sakusa.
What trust was left between him and Sakusa?
Atsumu’s mind went back to Nagano, the only place he last felt okay at.
Should he call Sunarin?
Nah, he’s probably at practice and this wasn’t anything major.
Atsumu was just overwhelmed and stressed.
Yes, overwhelmed and stressed.
That’s what this was.
Atsumu got up, briefly wondering if he smelt like garbage, successfully keeping out of sight from the team as he clamored into his car and made his way to the nearest motel room he could find. Right as his body hit the mattress, he curled into himself, bursting into tears, not stopping until morning despite the headache.
He wasn’t as strong as he thought he was.
***
“Oi, Tsumu, pick up your phone, for fuck’s sake. Okaa-san said she called you but you were being dramatic and didn’t pick up. Just ca-” the voicemail cut off as Atsumu threw the phone at the sofa, tragically missing as it hit the floor.
Atsumu and Osamu would have to meet eventually. It wasn’t something he could avoid forever as much as he wanted to. They were still twins and brothers, but ‘best friends’ was something that needed to be revisited.
Did Osamu mention their mother?
Atsumu had no doubt as to how a conversation about the events of the last couple of weeks would go with her. He was eighty-seven percent sure (yes, the seven is important) that the crux of his self-esteem issues came from his parents. Just because Atsumu was a bit more unruly than Osamu in their primary years, his mother and father had done everything in their power to make sure that the older of the two knew that. If he were to tell them, once again, that he had lost a boyfriend to Osamu, his mother would brush it off saying that he should give his twin a chance to find someone. His father, on the other hand, would ask if Atsumu would get a girlfriend instead, despite having no problem that his other son also liked the same sex.
Hypocrites wouldn’t begin to describe his family.
The only person that genuinely understood was his grandmother and was, quite frankly, the only reason Atsumu kept going home. After her passing several months ago, Atsumu barely talked to his family or visited home, only attending when Osamu asked.
Going now would mean another round of his father and mother proving to him that he would never amount to anything in their eyes.
He picked up his phone, ignoring all the messages from his team and opening his brother’s. Trying not to throw up, he texted Osamu that he would go home the next day for dinner, getting a thumb’s up in return.
Was everything back to normal between them?
Did Atsumu even want things to go back to normal with him?
***
He sat in his car, parked across the street from his house where he saw Osamu being greeted by their parents with smiles and kisses.
It’s not like he could cut off family, so he just needed to suck it up and get through dinner.
Regardless of what they say.
It’s family. You can’t cut them off.
Right?
Atsumu shook away the doubts in his mind, making his way to the door.
He knocked once, the door opening to reveal only his mother in an apron, clutching a ladle.
“Atsumu-kun, get in, get in, don’t let all the cold air in.”
His mother shut the door behind him and scurried back into the kitchen.
“Hello to you too, Okaa-san,” he muttered, though she was nowhere in sight.
So no smiles and kisses for him?
Atsumu let it go, completely aware that this was bound to happen, as he walked into the dining room where his brother and father were seated.
It’s just Osamu.
It’s not like he was the guy you caught with your boyfriend a couple days ago.
Oh, wait.
He cleared his throat and bowed to his father, half expecting a remark about how his back wasn’t straight enough.
“Your back needs to be straighter - it’s a miracle as to how you got into pro volleyball.”
“Good evening, Otou-san,” Atsumu replied through gritted teeth, making Osamu look at him with weird eyes.
Just ignore.
“Hey Tsumu, you good?” Osamu asked, throwing Atsumu’s plans out the window.
“Could be better,” he instead said, shrugging his shoulders as he sat down opposite to his father and brother.
Should have just ignored him.
Osamu’s phone rang as soon as he sat down, everyone’s eyes on him as he picked it up and began screaming into it thirty seconds into the call.
“How do you misplace a box of rice? Is it so hard to just bring it from the supplier to the store? I didn’t hire you to fu-mess around, I hired you to do your job,” catching himself before their mother heard the slip up in his language.
“Don’t worry, son. We understand, you can always come by tomorrow,” Otou-san said gently when the call ended, pointing towards the door.
“Yeah, I’ll just tell Okaa-san and get going. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, working men never take a break now, do they?”
Osamu laughed before directing his attention to Atsumu. “I’ll text you later, Tsumu?”
Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
“Your brother asked you something, Atsumu-kun,” his father reprimanded, his tone the complete opposite from thirty seconds before.
“Yeah,” Atsumu breathed out hoping his brother would be content with that.
Osamu left in a hurry to deal with whatever problem the store was having, leaving the three other members of the family in the house.
Somehow, this seemed worse than having dinner with them and Osamu.
Atsumu was walking on thin ice, calculating every time he grabbed for fish or his chopsticks hit the side of the bowl.
Though, it wasn’t him who succumbed to the awkward atmosphere.
“What happened to you? Some volleyball hit you in the head and now you’re mute?”
“Honey, don’t say that.”
Atsumu should have known that his father would find some way to twist his behavior to be due to volleyball. After saying that all of his problems were about the sport, he would then try to make Atsumu see reason by getting a stable job in a firm and a girlfriend, despite being told numerous times that neither was going to happen.
“What? He looks like that Sakusa kid broke up with him.”
“We did break up, but I was the one who did it,” Atsumu interjected before any more comments could have been made about him.
“What?”
“What?”
Both of his parents looked at him in shock, which made sense considering they actually liked Sakusa. Every time he brought him home, they adored him with the affection Atsumu wished he had received.
“If you just apologize, it’ll be okay. Just beg for him to take you back,” his father said after regaining his composure, directing his attention back to his food.
“I’m not the one in the wrong though,” Atsumu retorted, just as calmly.
“What happened?” his mother asked, though he knew it was merely a means of finding a way to pin it on him.
“He cheated on me.”
“See, it is your fault. If you were a better partner, then he wouldn’t have cheated on you in the first place,” Otou-san shot, smirking smugly, pointing his chopsticks at his son.
“If there was something wrong, he shouldn’t have just told me instead of sleeping with Osamu.”
He didn’t mean for the last part to come out, he really didn’t. However, he’d be lying if he didn’t hope that his parents would feel some sort of remorse for him and treat him with respect and love. Seeing Osamu get kicked off the pedestal would be a nice added bonus too.
“Oh my,” he heard his mother say. “I always said that they would make a cute couple, didn’t I, dear?”
“Yes, we can ask Osamu-kun to bring Sakusa-kun home for Christmas this year?”
He was watching his mother and father approve of their son who slept with their other son’s boyfriend in front of him.
Did they not feel any contrition?
It’s family. You can’t cut them off.
It’s not Atsumu’s family though.
This was Osamu’s house. Osamu’s family. Osamu’s mother and Osamu’s father.
Atsumu didn’t fit into this house - he never has.
What made him think it would change starting now?
He stood up and made his way to the front door without a word, picking up his keys from the table on the way. Having moved out three years ago, he didn’t think there was anything he needed to get from his old bedroom. Even if he did, he could get someone to do it or just break in when his parents were at work.
“We were talking to you, Atsumu-kun. How dare you leave like that? We are your parents, don’t disres-” his father shouted as the pair of them followed Atsumu.
“No,” he interrupted, the look on their faces dropping as they heard their son’s cold tone.
“You aren’t going to contact me again. You aren’t going to talk about me or to me,” Atsumu threatened in a low voice, stalking towards the two, his mother clutching onto his father’s arm.
“You are not my family and you are not my parents, stop deluding yourself. I have no desire to have anything to do with either of you, understand?”
Leaving without an answer, he walked slower than he would, hoping and praying that they'd realize what had happened. They’d be sorry and apologize profusely, making sure Atsumu was okay.
His fantasy was cut short when his father yelled out the door, “Wait till volleyball gets you nowhere and you end up alone on the street, we’ll see who is your family then, you pathetic excuse for a son,” shutting the door at the same time that Atsumu shut his car door.
Clearly, the love didn’t go both ways.
Trying to process what all had just happened, Atsumu came to the best and most logical conclusion.
He needed a drink.
***
Not even an hour later, Atsumu was drunk.
It was 9:30 PM and Atsumu was drunker than he had ever been before.
He wasn’t happy drunk, the kind where his emotions would be floaty. He wasn’t all smiles, having a nice time and just going with the flow of the party.
He wasn’t flirty drunk. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t really into hookup culture, preferring a stable relationship with someone who he knew wanted to spend their life with him as much as he did with them. Not that hookup culture was bad in any way, it just wasn’t what Atsumu believed he wanted. Though, that belief was being questioned for obvious reasons.
He wasn’t even sad drunk, which in all fairness is what he thought he was going to be. He expected to be bawling in the corner of the pub, begging the world to either take him, his feelings or his problems away.
He wasn’t stupid drunk where he'd try to get back together with Sakusa, but neither the kind of drunk to ignore it altogether. He wasn’t going to do anything extreme, he had enough control of himself when it came to alcohol to stop himself from hurting himself or others.
He was a mixture-of-every-kind-of-drunk-there-ever-was kind of drunk. Maybe that’s why when his finger hovered over the call icon next to ‘Omi-Omi <3’ he didn’t hesitate to press it.
Atsumu wondered if his ringtone on Sakusa’s phone was still the same, a song that ironically fits in this situation. Almost as if he subconsciously knew things would end up like this.
“Hello, Tsumu?” a familiar voice crackled through, effectively stopping Atsumu’s spiral of thought.
“My name is Atsumu, Sakusa, did you forget that too?”
“Atsumu, are you drunk?”
A month ago, Atsumu would have gushed at the rare sight of care from Sakusa, but now all that came over him was a wave of nausea.
“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t know,” he replied, not straying from his usual playful self.
“Atsumu, listen you need to drink wat-”
“Nah, I don’t wanna listen to you, you have to listen to me,” he interrupted, unable to stand any more of the concern that came far too late.
“You and Osamu suck. Like, really, really, really suck. Like super, duper, kind of suck. Oh my god, you’ve sucked both of our dicks, so yeah you suck,” Atsumu ranted, words leaving his mouth faster than he could process them. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Slut shaming is bad. Cheating is bad. Cheating on your partner’s brother is very bad. It’s questionable actually, like out of everyone in our lives, you chose to cheat on me with my twin brother? What kind of fucked up television show is this?”
Atsumu heard a faint sniffle, mildly reveling in the fact that he did not care.
Why was Sakusa crying?
He was the one who made the decision to sleep with Osamu, in the first place. What’s the point of crying to someone, claiming you love them after betraying their trust?
“Tsumu?” he heard a voice call out, but it went ignored.
What did Atsumu do wrong?
Did he even do anything wrong?
Why him?
Why?
“You know what the worst part is. You’ll go back to being okay. You won’t know the pain of never being enough for anyone. You won’t second guess every relationship you have, whether it be platonic or romantic. You won’t have to look your own twin brother in the eye and have everyone around you telling you to let it go because it’s probably your fault, being the fuck up of the family that you are. You’re not the one who will give up on love, because honestly, I’m done.”
Every emotion Atsumu felt in that moment was scrutinized like it was a separate person and all the fog in his mind cleared up.
“I know I’m not at fault here because if I did something wrong, that’s on you to tell me.”
Communication is a two-way street, in a romantic relationship and otherwise.
“I used to think that a good significant other should always predict what their partner is feeling, especially after high school.”
It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault.
“It’s sort of pathetic that I didn’t know sooner that no one can do that. But I know it now. I’m not a mind reader, Sakusa. Maybe I fucked up and did something you didn’t like, but I did not end us, because if you gave even the slightest fuck about me, you would have told me if I had done something wrong.”
It was Sakusa’s.
“You never gave a damn about me, just admit it.”
As the final word left his lips, Atsumu felt a weight lift out of his body and smash to pieces on the floor. He hadn’t fallen out of love, yet - that would take much more time than three days, but he was getting there.
“That’s a bold statement coming from the guy who slept with his ex right after finding his boyfriend and brother in bed.”
And at that moment, the weight reconstructed ten times bigger and pushed its way back inside him.
“Yeah, I know all about how you fled to Suna-san’s house right after. Maybe you guys reminisced about old days and fucked all weekend, huh?”
Atsumu’s head went blank as false accusations were thrown at him.
“You must have been relieved to find me and Osamu then - now you’re free. I don’t know why you’re so mad, all we did was sleep with each other. Is having sex a crime now?”
He should have realized that his ex-boyfriend wasn’t one to admit his faults - he has never done it before, why would he do it for someone as insignificant in his life as Atsumu?
“I actually loved you, believe it or not. I’m not like you or my brother and I have no intention to be either. Goodbye Sakusa,” a now completely sober Atsumu replied, keeping his voice as neutral as possible even though tears made the room blurry, ending the call in a hurry.
How is it that he felt better yet much worse at the same time?
***
Atsumu’s phone was still ringing off the hook with multiple missed calls from everyone in the team and even a couple from Akaashi-san, no doubt due to a certain silver haired owl.
He should probably text them.
If he was going to be kicked out of the team, he should at least be on good terms with the people that did not cheat on him.
He figured he would contact Bokkun, knowing that he would do the needful and tell everyone. Opening his messages, he read the newest ones from his eccentric teammate.
Bokkun: TSUMTSUMU R U OK
Bokkun: i dont think ur ok
Bokkun: kaashi says i shouldnt text u again but im worried
Bokkun: text me bacccckkkkkk
The newest message was a voice message which Atsumu played, laying the phone on his chest and he laid down on the bed of the motel room he was staying in.
“Sakusa told us what happened, Atsumu,” the voice rang out from his device.
Atsumu shot up in disbelief that Bokuto fucking Kotarou was being serious and using actual names rather than his designated nicknames.
“It’s not your fault. None of us are disappointed in you. The only person we do feel that for is Sakusa and to be honest, I don’t feel much for him anymore. What he did was his decision and his decision alone. Something you can not blame yourself for. You deserve much better than him because you’re one of the best human beings I know. We both know I’d put Kaashi before everyone, but you’re a close second.”
A good human being? Atsumu shook his head, taking a mental note to have his teammate schedule a doctor’s appointment.
“You were one of the first people to never call me dumb and instead encourage me. I’ve never told you how much that meant to me but now is as good of a time as any. My entire life I’ve been told that I was too much for people. You were the person that made me embrace that.”
Was Bokkun drunk? Did he forget about Akaashi-san?
“‘Kaashi was one too, I’ll be honest. But it’s not like he was the most expressive. I couldn’t guess everything especially when most of my energy around him back then was expended by making sure he didn’t know I was in love with him. You made me feel like I was worthy of being something and that the way I viewed life wasn’t a joke. So, I can’t stand by while you think of yourself as a failure for not noticing, for being yourself or whatever lie you have thought up.”
Atsumu clutched the phone in his hand and he brought himself to a fetal position, still in shock at the confession.
He didn’t deserve anything Bokkun said.
“You deserve everything and more, Atsumu. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. Hinata is here. Meian is here. We are all here for you.”
They didn’t hate him?
They weren’t mad or disappointed or upset?
They didn’t hate him.
With shaky fingers, Atsumu typed back a thank you, now knowing that even with just those two words, Bokkun would understand what he meant.
That’s all he needed.
***
“I’ll be okay, Sunarin, don’t worry.”
“Fuck off, we both know I’ll worry. Neither of us want a reprise of what happened after I found out about your panic attack. From Hinata too, of all people. So. Don’t. Test. Me.”
“What happened to the emotionally constipated Sunarin I knew? Caring you freaks me out, not gonna lie,” Atsumu chuckled as he entered a quaint little coffee shop.
“Shut up and listen to me. You don’t have to do this - just drop him. Never speak to him again. Block his number. Ghost him.”
Atsumu knew Sunarin was concerned out of his mind, it was understandable.
But it had to be done.
Both of them knew it had to be done.
“Who am I kidding? Obviously, that won’t work. Whatever. Just be careful, okay? And remember, you’re there to cut off, not anything else. I don’t want our next call to start with ‘Hey, Sunarin, guess what? I forgave him,’ cause I swear to God, I’ll come to Osaka and crash into your new penthouse apartment with my car,” Suna exclaimed when he relayed his thoughts, pairing with it an uncanny impersonation of Atsumu.
“I have no idea how you’ll get it there, but I don’t doubt you when you say that. Don’t worry, okay? My next call will be good news and good news only, I promise. I gotta go now though, he’s here,” Atsumu said as gray hair made its way into the cafe.
“Tsumu,” his twin breathed out, taking a seat. “Okaa-san is worried about you. She said something about cutting off and not talking to her and Otou-san, I didn’t understand. I just told her you had a lot on your plate with the breakup and moving into your new place and stuff, but she was hellbent on telling me that you’re never going to speak to them again. I mean, I know things are bad, but it’s not like they are that bad.”
It was now or never. Years of pain would be addressed in this conversation.
Well, it’s not like it’s the easiest thing ever to cut yourself off from your own twin brother.
Step 1: Rip the bandaid.
“I’m cutting off all ties with you.”
Atsumu watched as Osamu’s face went slack, but still confused as to what was happening to his family.
Step 2: Explain why.
“I can’t be around you guys anymore. I don’t deserve to be worthless in the eyes of our parents, so it’s better that I cut them off entirely.”
It seemed that his twin had taken what he said in a completely different way than what was intended since the next words out of his mouth were “Oh. I didn’t know, but whatever. Just let me know if you want to talk to them again.”
Looks like we need to repeat steps 1 and 2.
“I’m cutting off ties with you, too.”
“The fuck did I do?”
“You slept with my boyfriend. Two years just to find him in bed with my own twin brother and you’re asking me what you did?” Atsumu asked in disbelief.
Step 3: Don’t get mad.
“It was an accident, it just happened, you can’t get mad at me for that,” Osamu argued back, his posture making it very clear that he was ready to defend himself.
“An accident is an error you have no control over and last time I remember, you had perfect control over your dick. Both of you.”
“You’re making this into a big deal, plus you need me. No one else is gonna deal with you other than me, so can we stop talking about cutting ties?” his twin said with an exasperated sigh.
“A big deal?”
Step 3: Don’t get mad.
“You’ve made me feel more like garbage than I do and we both know how hard I am on myself. I wanted to marry him. I wanted to build a life with him. For fuck’s sake, I went ring shopping with you. Yet, I get to see my best friend and my boyfriend together in bed. How am I the one that gets affected by all of this? Do you not feel any remorse?”
“Okay, look, I’m sorry. There, can we leave it now? It was just a mistake.”
Step 3: Don’t get mad.
“So Sunarin was a mistake? Ito-chan? How is it that every time I’m happy, it’s you who takes it away from me?” Atsumu echoed his words from a few days prior.
“I apologized. What else do you want? Dinner every day for the next month?” Osamu breathed out - even a passerby could tell he was done and uninterested in the conversation.
“I’m gonna leave. And you’re not going to stop me. You’re not gonna text or call or contact me because I don’t want anything to do with you right now. That’s what I want.”
“What about you, huh? You’re really ready to let go of your twin fucking brother?” Osamu said through gritted teeth, careful not to raise his voice in the cafe. His bored demeanor was quickly becoming one of panic, but Atsumu couldn’t be bothered to care.
Step 4: Leave.
“I wish you all the best, Osamu,” Atsumu exhaled, the ball finally dropping. He stood up, placing eight hundred yen on the counter, before making his way to exit, not bothering to check on the person that was with him.
Saying Osamu was a nice touch, but it’s not like it would go noticed.
Atsumu got into his car and for the first time in a month, he could breathe freely. He wasn’t bound to cheaters or lying twins. He didn’t have to pretend to be okay and he most certainly did not have to hide when he was not.
He felt liberated.
It was unfamiliar, but it was welcome.
***