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Miya Atsumu was eight when he began to recognize the differences between himself and his twin. Adults always preferred Samu to him, that was always a given. His aunties and uncles always said they could distinguish between the two – they just needed to look for the boy who was running around like he had ants in his pants and they immediately knew that it was Atsumu. He remembered his uncle ruffling his hair and calling him his ‘precious little troublemaker.’ Other relatives and family friends weren’t as kind and also called him a troublemaker, but he knew what they meant when they accompanied their words with a frown.
On the other hand, most people never had anything bad to say about Samu. He figured it must have something to do with how they could leave his brother alone and not come back to find the room looking like a tornado had gone through it (in his defense, he really hadn’t meant to make all that mess; he just wanted to see how long he could keep the ball up for).
He could acknowledge that he was definitely not the most well-behaved child. He didn’t like to admit it, but he could see why the adults preferred Samu to him. Samu didn’t start bawling at the drop of a hat. Samu didn’t start screaming when things didn’t go his way. Samu knew when to be quiet.
That was okay with him though. He didn’t need the adults to like him. He had Samu and their Ma. They were all he needed.
He loved his Ma and he’s sure that his Ma loved him. She did her very best but he still remembered the one time that she had snapped at him. With tears in her eyes, she had asked him why he couldn’t be more like Samu. For a boy who was only eight years old at the time, he could still recall how at that very moment, his Ma had reminded him of the Koi swimming around at the temple pond with her mouth opening and closing as if that would help push the words back into her mouth.
“But I’m Samu, Ma. And he’s Tsumu,” his twin had responded for him.
Their Ma had scooped the both of them up and wrapped them in her arms. Atsumu hadn’t even realized he was crying until his brother and Ma were wiping the tears off of his face.
“Don’t be such a crybaby,” Samu had said which he thought was rich coming from his brother who just seconds ago had been sniffling and still had the evidence of tear tracks on his face.
“I’m not!” he had protested as he weakly stuck his tongue out at his twin.
Their Ma had let out a wet laugh before giving the two of them a kiss on their foreheads. “I’m so sorry, loves. I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I know that you’re Tsumu and that you’re Samu. I don’t ever want you to be anyone but yourselves.”
“Okay Ma!” both twins had shouted in unison before both of them laid a kiss on each of their Ma’s cheeks with the hopes that this would make their Ma smile and stop crying.
Since then, Atsumu had taken his Ma’s words to heart. He was going to live life unapologetically as Miya Atsumu. If people weren’t fans of him then that was their loss. He didn’t need them. All he needed were the two people that his then tiny arms had wrapped themselves around.
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At the age of 10, he and Samu had just discovered their love for volleyball. That summer, the twins breathed, slept, and ate nothing but volleyball. So what if his classmates and the other kids at school looked at him like he had a screw loose in his head? He and Samu were gonna be the best brothers on the professional volleyball scene and no snot-nosed brat’s mean-spirited gossip and judgement were going to get in the way of that. If they were gonna be scrubs, then he was gonna treat them like the scrubs that they were.
So why did it bother him when Samu had sat him down and told him that he was going to be nice? Atsumu had nearly choked on his rice at the thought.
Living with his twin, Atsumu had firsthand experience and knew that Samu was as much of a jerk as he was. In fact, he’d even say Samu was a bigger jerk. Atsumu knew how to start a fight and would often find himself inadvertently initiating squabbles with his peers due to a careless word or two. However, it was Samu who often ended fights, whether that be with his fists or even just a pointed look that was accompanied with a single raised eyebrow.
And being nice? What was that even supposed to mean? Did Samu even know how to be nice? If being nice meant lying, even lying by omission, then he’d say his twin knew how to be nice. And on reflecting on himself, Atsumu thought that he was nice enough. He knew his spikers’ preferences and was nice enough to set it to them exactly how they wanted it.
Alright, some would say that wasn’t the exact truth, but Tsumu knew that his sets would improve their individual skills as well. Wasn’t that nice enough? He was looking out for them in the long run, after all.
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At the age of 11, he and Samu had been put in different classes. When the teacher asked them to partner up, Atsumu was usually left-behind. Everyone’s last choice and oftentimes, not even a choice that anyone had taken.
This time was no different as their history teacher had asked them to partner up to do a presentation. Desks had been pushed together and conversation started flowing. However, Atsumu had found himself once again sitting alone.
“Miya?” the teacher had called and Atsumu had hesitated. Despite being in this class for a couple of months without his brother, being called by his last name was something that was still unfamiliar to him.
“Yes, ma’am?” he steeled himself for her upcoming question.
“Do you have a partner?”
Atsumu liked his teacher, really he did, but surely by now she should have realized that he did most of the assigned work by himself. Academically, Atsumu wasn’t stupid. In fact, he even preferred getting the work done by himself so he could do it on his own schedule.
“No ma’am,” he responded. The look of pity she sent his way nearly made the tips of his ears flush in embarrassment.
“Do you even have any friends?” one of his classmates had sneered just loud enough that Atsumu knew the words were meant for him to overhear.
Atsumu simply raised a single eyebrow, a trick he had learned from his twin. “’Course I do,” he answered simply.
“Oh yeah?” the boy shot back. “Osamu doesn’t count. He’s your brother.”
That afternoon, Atsumu had spent practice sending sets to his spikers that they could easily get to. After the fifth consecutive easy set, he could tell the others had sensed there was something off about him, but no one had bothered to ask. They were probably just relieved he wasn’t forcing them to jump higher to reach the ball. He really was wasting his time playing with this bunch of scrubs.
On the way home Samu had nudged his shoulder and all his hope of sleeping off his classmate’s words faded away. “Oi, what’s been up with you today?”
Tsumu recalled shrugging in response but his brother had sped up to stand in his way.
“Can we be friends even if we’re brothers?” the question finally came out in a whisper.
Samu had given him a look as if he had lost his mind. “What kinda question is that?”
He had been about to shrug again but Samu had placed his hands on both of his shoulders. “Quit doin’ that,” his twin had reprimanded. “We’re not friends.”
At this, he had turned his head away from Samu, afraid that he was going to start crying if he looked at him.
“Yer such a crybaby,” Samu had said before tightening the grip he had on his shoulders.
Atsumu tried to hide the sniffle. “You just said we weren’t friends!”
“Oh my God,” his brother sighed in exasperation. “We’re brothers. Twins! That’s better than friends, ain’t it?”
Slowly, Atsumu turned to look at his brother who had a look of murderous intent on his face.
“Now tell me who the idiot is that planted that idea in your head?” Samu had demanded.
He had shaken his head. “I don’t know his name.”
Samu had nearly slapped his own forehead in irritation. “It’s two months into the school year, Tsum, and ya don’t know your classmates’ names?”
He had squawked indignantly at that. “I’ve got more important things to remember than that ya know!”
His brother simply rolled his eyes and let go of his shoulders. “Sure ya do.”
The next day, Atsumu had been woken up by Samu who had hit his face with a pillow and told him that he was going on ahead for some class duties. Atsumu had simply rolled over and covered his face with his blanket, a decision that he had started to regret, as he had to practically sprint to get to his morning class on time.
Thankfully, he had made it with a couple of minutes to spare and was about to set his head down on his desk when a shriek of surprise from the front of the room shocks him out of his reverie.
In walked the boy from yesterday with a split lip and what looked to be the beginning of a black eye starting to form.
At dinner that night, Atsumu pushed his pudding cup towards his twin. He had noticed the bandages around Samu’s knuckles at practice which confirmed his earlier suspicions. It really made his decision to skip his daily dose of sugar easier to stomach.
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Atsumu would say that his high school years were miles better than his earlier years. Samu and him were on on a team that consistently made it to Nationals. Things were different than they were back in middle school. His teammates were actually his friends. For the first time in his life, he could definitively say that he had friends.
He had managed to rope Ginjima into a couple of schemes with Samu and although Suna instigated a fair share of fights, he knew that the tired-looking boy also cherished their friendship if the amount of Facebook poke wars that Suna initiated counted for anything. Then there was Aran, Omimi, and Kita who had also burrowed their way into his life, acting like concerned and often overworked older brothers. Inarizaki was a tight-knit family.
So when the time had come for him to leave Inarizaki and Hyogo behind and start a new life in Osaka, he could freely admit that he was scared. This would be the first time in his life without Osamu, and despite promises to check in every other day, he knew that his brother would need to start prioritizing his own goals and he couldn’t do that if he was worried about how Atsumu was going to fare in the big city by himself.
To put his brother at ease, he had told Samu that he was going to make friends – specifically, he promised to make friends outside of volleyball. Samu had laughed at this which had earned him a quick shove.
“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been told I can be quite charming when I want to be!” he had defended himself.
In response, his stupid brother had only continued to cackle. “Good luck makin’ friends when I’ve only heard Gran call ya charming.”
“I’ll show ya!” He had pledged. “I’ll make tons of friends and introduce ya to them.”
Samu had simply grinned in response. “I can’t wait.”
It was now a month into living in Osaku, and Atsumu would say that he was getting used to living life with his teammates. Some of them were also living in the same team-provided shared apartment which had made it easier for Atsumu to befriend his teammates.
Some would say that familiarity breeds contempt, but for Atsumu, living together with his teammates kept the waves of loneliness at bay. He found himself accompanying Barnes and Inumaki on their trips into the city which also helped him familiarize himself with his new home. He worked out with his captain Meian. He also often had lunch out with Bokuto, outings which he would never disclose to his nutritionist due to the amount of spicy ramen challenges the two of them had participated in.
Osaka was slowly starting to become a second home. The konbini across the street no longer sent a pang straight to his chest with memories of pestering Samu or Suna to buy him a popsicle during the sweltering summer months in Hoygo. He also found himself sleeping past the alarm that Samu had set for years which led to him actually waking up refreshed because he had woken up to his own alarm and as a result, had gotten a couple of extra minutes of sleep. Sure, he missed his Ma and Samu’s cooking but Bokuto had shown him to enough restaurants that his dining options were only limited by how many lies he wanted to spin to his nutritionist.
However, despite this feeling of slowly becoming settled, he hadn’t found the time to fulfill his promise to his brother. All of his friends in Osaka were either on the team or worked for the team. He still hadn’t managed to make friends outside the team.
His Ma was right. Making friends as an adult was definitely trickier than making friends as kids, and even then, that was something he could never get quite right without Samu by his side. But he had promised, and Atsumu was anything but a promise breaker.
This is how he found himself seated across a table from you. The ramen place he had frequented was surprisingly busy for 2:25 on a Tuesday afternoon. So when you had shown up, the waiter had directed you over to his table as it was the only one with an empty chair.
“I’m sorry about this,” you apologize. “I can always come back another time if you’re not okay to share a table,” you had offered.
When you look at him expectantly, he had to force himself to respond as he felt his brain short circuit at the shy smile you had offered him. “No worries,” he finally replies despite the fact there were indeed many worries. Nonetheless, he gestures for you to take the seat across from him.
With that settled, the waiter gladly takes both of your orders and leaves to cater to the other tables around you.
Atsumu doesn’t really do too well with silences and he finds himself bouncing his knee to help shake off his growing anxiety. “I don’t usually eat with strangers, but I figure if we introduce ourselves to each other then we wouldn’t really be strangers, now would we?” he babbles. “I’m Miya Atsumu, but you can just call me Atsumu.”
You grin and introduce yourself in return. “So we’re not strangers now. I’m glad because my parents always told me never to talk to strangers,” you respond and he can feel the weight on his chest lighten as he chuckles.
Before the two of you can continue to converse, the waiter returns with your food.
“Itadakimasu,” the both of you say in unison before digging in.
He must have done something wrong because you’re looking over at him with a furrowed brow and concern evident on your face.
“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask. “You haven’t taken a single bite.”
He looks down at the unused chopsticks in his hand. “Oh, it’s nothin’ really,” he replies. “It’s just that I’ve never seen someone look so excited to eat. I think I finally get what my brother was sayin’ now.”
You can feel your face start to heat up. Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?
He smacks his forehead at your reaction. “There I go again, ruinin’ things. I really just meant that you look cute when you’re eating. Like you’re really enjoyin’ it,” he trails off. “…And now you probably think I’m a creep, don’t ya?”
This time, your cheeks are flushing for a whole different reason. “Nah, it’s alright, Atsumu. You’re right, I am pretty excited to be eating. I’ve been wanting to try this place for so long that when I heard they were having a big special, I just had to come by. Plus, I skipped breakfast specifically for this,” you explained.
He exaggerates wiping the sweat off his forehead and shoots you a grin before diving into his own bowl.
You can’t help but giggle at his antics. “Now you’re the one who looks absolutely famished.”
He chuckles along with you. “I’ve got a brother at home so if I didn’t eat fast then I wasn’t eatin’ at all.”
You beam at him. “Sounds like what my siblings would say about me.”
He snorts and with the ice sufficiently broken, the both of you share your meal with pleasant conversation interspersed in between.
To his shock, the conversation flows easily between the two of you. Sure, he puts his foot in his mouth sometimes, but you don’t seem to mind even a little bit as you laugh good-naturedly as he flounders to come up with an excuse. It wasn’t his fault. You made him nervous and this was the longest he’d held a conversation with someone without any ulterior motives to rile them up and throw them off their game. If anything, you were the one throwing him off of his game.
To his complete disappointment, the time with you was already coming to an end as the waiter was already coming over to hand you both your bills.
“Hey, I can take care of it,” you offer.
He shakes his head. “Ma would have my ass if she found out I let ya pay for my meal. Actually, let me get yours. A thank you for puttin’ up with me.”
Your hand reaches over to his elbow and he stills. “There was nothing to put up with, Atsumu. I really enjoyed being able to meet and spend time with you today.”
The sincerity in your voice shocks him.
He chuckles wryly. “Please, ya don’t just gotta be sayin’ that to be polite. People have told me I can be a lot.”
You frown and he thinks that he’s done it now, but the words that leave your lips shock him in the best possible way “Sure, you may be a lot more than people bargained for but that’s their problem. For me, I’d say this was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
“Really?” he breathes. “Even if I talk too much, say things I don’t mean in the heat of the moment, and can’t cook to save my life?” He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, but he only knows he needs to lay it all out there.
You nod. “Yeah, well, I’d obviously put you in your place,” you tease. “But it’s not like I’m perfect either.”
This is it, he thinks. He’ll take the plunge. “Would you want to be friends with me?”
Your grin has him going stupid. “I’d love that.”
His fingers are already itching to dial his brother’s number to tell him the news.
“You can call me Tsumu then. That’s what my friends call me.”