Archive of Our Own

Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathered up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. 

Grief is just love with no place to go.

~Jamie Anderson

“He showed me his flaws, and in return let me feel like I had none.”

The thick fabric under his fingertips felt rough as he straightened the white shirt, skilled hands moving over his wrists and securing the cloth. He adjusted the dress shirt, pulling the ends together until the cool surface of the buttons touched the skin of his chest and he made to close these up as well. 

His chest lifted and sunk with each steady slow breath, his fingers never faltering in their task and his eyes not wavering. His mind though? His mind was somewhere completely else. 

Kiyoomi buttoned up his dress shirt to the very top, raising his hands to adjust the collar and stretching his neck. It felt too close, too tight, too real. But he didn’t loosen anything, swallowed around the thickness in his throat and endured it, finally lifting dark eyes to the image in front of him. 

Kiyoomi stared at the reflection in the mirror, his reflection, and only saw grey. Grey framing his vision, grey coloring his surroundings. Kiyoomi missed the colours, missed the different shades and missed the vivacity. 
He also knew why. 

He studied his image. His black hair fell in gentle locks around his forehead and face, carefully comped to the side and making room for his eyes and features. There were no bags under his eyes, no irritation on his skin, no broken lips or yellow teeth. Nothing out of place and everything flawless like his mother would claim. 

There was no evidence of the sleepless nights, terrors and grieve the boy endured. Not a thing out of place to show and not a thing that hold any more meaning to him. 

But Kiyoomi remembered a time where they had mattered, where he had learned to appreciate and even like what he saw now. That time though? It felt like a lifetime ago. A time so different from now, so full of red, orange and yellow, gold colours, and sounds. And at the same time? It was so close, so near, so reachable, he could still hear, nearly grasp his voice. 

"You can’t be so harsh with yerself, Omi-Omi!"

"Well, I don’t see what you claim to see." 

Miya slandered next to him, hands in his pockets and gaze pointed at him, a soft laugh escaping his mouth. Facing forward himself, he saw the slight lift of the corner of his lips, his cheeks red from the cold weather of the early autumn.

"But I ain’t never seen such dark eyes! They fit ta yer hair, ya know." 

"So what? It runs in the family, it’s nothing special and nothing of your concern, Miya." 

"But they are yours, not yer family’s an‘ not someone else’s. An‘ besides, who claimed Snow White wasn’t beautiful?" 

"Who?" 

A dramatic gasp sounded next to him and Sakusa turned to see Miya look at him in offense, mock hurt. 

"Whatcha meaaaan ya don’t know Snow White? The fairy tale?" 

"Not everyone dreams of fairy tales, although I shouldn’t be surprised in your case."

The blond scoffed, looking away, and for a few minutes quiet returned between them. Honestly, who pays attention to children tales these days anyway and why was he supposed to know? It wasn’t like he ever paid much attention to western fairly tails in the first place, or especially. 

A breeze turned the corner of the street they were walking on, red and brown leaves spiraling from the ground and flying past them, ruffling the boys clothing and making Sakusa hide his face deeper in his scarf with a scowl.

"She was banned by her evil stepmother ta never set foot back into the kingdom for her beauty. It was jealousy, maybe insecurity too." Miyas quiet voice spoke up once more, somehow faint and a little far away, like he talked to himself. As Sakusa glanced over to him, he saw the other boy facing forward. "It nearly got her killed by a servant of the queen, ya know, but the man had known the girl for a long time an’ wanted ta protect her instead, riskin’ himself in the process."

For a second, Sakusa thought the trick of the light made longing shine in Miyas eyes, but it vanished so fast, it must have been his imagination. 

"And that’s me, because…?"

"Well, she was banned 'cause of her beauty, the stepmother was jealous."

"Sounds like you’re the stepmother."

"Wha- I’m not!"

The smell of leaves, of mud and rain suddenly assaulted Kiyoomis senses. The sound of laughter and wind and birds ringing in his ears, the taste of caramel, of coffee lying on his tongue. 
Memories swirling in his mind, a world so different to Kyioomis current one. 

A knock on the door pulled him away from the image and thoughts in his head and the teenager turned to see the incomer. His cousin stood in the doorway, dressed in a black suit with his eyes pointed anywhere but at him. 

"Are you ready? We have to leave soon." 

Sakusa looked down at the watch on his wrist, the pointer ticking steadily as he stared at the object for a moment. 

"Or do you…can I help you with anything?" 
Motoyas hesitant voice reached the ravens ears once more and he turned away from the watch, eyes finally finding his cousins. 

"No thank you, Komori. I’ll be out in a bit." 

The other boy looked like he wanted to protest, maybe say something more, but in the end he faltered and just nodded, shoulders sagging, exiting the door and leaving the other alone. 

Kiyoomi heaved a breath at the others departure, the silence of the space around him enveloping him once again and only his thoughts accompanying his being. 

He knew they would have to depart soon, was aware of that fact very clearly, but something hindered him from moving; from leaving. 
Black eyes found the reflection in front of them once more, staring at the pale boy in the mirror, his figure tall and looming in the room, but small and insignificant, dark and pale, in the piece of glass. 

“Everyone wants ta be someone’s sun ta lighten up someone's life, but why not be someone’s moon, ta brighten in the darkest hour?” He had told Kiyoomi one day, like it was a fact, a candy for the thought, his voice so very soft but sure. So so sure. 

"I think you are wrong, Atsumu."

The tranquil atmosphere of the room swallowed his near silent whispered words, the shadows watching the young boy, looming but never ever touching, coming closer and closer but never catching. 

Moving and turning away, Kiyoomi grabbed his suit jacket and slipped it onto his form, not again looking at the mirror, keeping his gaze focused on the button’s and straightening. Without another glance around the space he left, steady steps taking him down the corridor so fast, he barely noticed when he stepped outside the house; feeling no time had passed at all. 

Why. Why. Why.

Staring outside the vehicle, seeing the pale, muddy, landscape fly by, the thickness in Kiyoomis throat threatened to swallow him whole. Pulling him under and clawing at his chest, he felt his heart aching and hands stinging where fingernails dug into skin. 

'Missing you comes in waves, Atsumu. Today, I’m drowning.'

When he set foot outside the car, his shoe caught the edge of a muddy puddle, the half frozen black ice giving away under his feet easily and making a scrunching sound. Kiyoomi barely bothered to scrunch his nose in distaste. 
His eyes were pointed forward, multiple figures in black suits turning as he and Motoya approached the group, some sniffling, some red eyed, some stone faced. Kiyoomi cared for none of them, he wasn’t here for them and his skin curled at the concept of having to converse with them. So he didn’t. 

He stood a little to the side of the group and while he made some distinct familiar faces out, some were complete strangers to him. He recognized members of the Inarizaki Boy Volleyball Club, their captain, the brunette middle blocker, their ace, some other players. Some of them stole glances at his persona, maybe wondering why he was here, asking how and how good he knew Atsumu. 
Kiyoomi couldn’t help the urge of wanting to ask them the same. 

Other faces were complete strangers to him, nothing of their features spiked a memory in the ravens head, neither of his own experiences nor of Atsumus description. Distinctly he wondered what they were all doing here, how they deserved to be here today. 
Distinctly, he asked himself the same. 

"My teammates don’ like me much, I thin‘." 

Sakusa looked up from the book he was reading, black eyes turning to the other boy across the room who was sitting still on the bed.

"What do you mean?" 

Something painful crossed the blonds features, like he was stung by a bee or tasted something sore, before his face turned to Sakusas, head tipping back awkwardly. He heaved a tired sight. 

"Sometimes…I feel like they don’ accept me the way they accept each other. Making fun of me an’ stuff, aren’t listenin’." 

Sakusa stayed silent, waiting for the other to elaborate, but nothing came and those brown golden eyes only continued gazing at the ceiling. 
He knew what Miya meant, how it felt, but somehow he found it hard to believe his words. Not really because he thought the other was lying, but more because the concept itself seemed surreal to him. 

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think so?" 

For a moment, Miya just continued blinking at him owlishly, but then he shook himself out of his stare, seemingly catching himself and turning away, a light chuckle escaping his lips as a hand raised to scratch his neck. 

"Sorry, sorry, 've been a bit down lately, ya know how it is. Practice was bad this week 'nd coach wasn’ happy with my performance." 

Kiyoomi mustered Miya for a bit longer, recognizing the lie but not calling him out on it, his own chest squeezing with something painful. But Miya looked still so dejected, so so- 
Kiyoomi didn’t know what to call it. He wished he did, if not for helping his friend, maybe then for understanding himself better, too. 

"Sometimes they seem so distant. Like a magnets same poles pushing away from each other." he said instead, surprising himself in the process. 

Miya looked no small amount caught of guard himself, wide eyes finding his again, hopeful in a sense, longing and painful in another, his mouth forming a small O. When he turned away once more, his face morphed into something thoughtful. 

"They’re good people, ya know, great even! I love them very much, I just don’ think they do though. Like me, I mean." he claimed, and suddenly Kiyoomi was faced with a wide, painful crippled and shopped at smile. 
(Fake. Fake. Fake.)

"It doesn’ matter though, they’re my team! Together, we’re gonna win Nationals! I know we’ll!" Miyas eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth forming into something less bright and more smug.
(Fake. Fake. Fake.) 

"So better put on yer big boy shoes, Omi! Cuz we’re gonna come for ya!" 

"Sakusa." 

Blinking, dark eyes snapped away from the wall they had been staring at, Sakusa turning to the voice who stood just a few feet away from him. So lost in thought, he hadn’t even noticed the other person approaching. 

But as black eyes turned and found the face of the individual just spoken, the breath was punched out of his chest. 
Before him stood Miya Osamu, grey hair, brown goldish eyes and black suit and all. It wasn’t as painful as he had imagined it to be. Sakusa had only needed a few days at the Youth Camp to be eventually able to distinguish the Miya Twins from each other. Not that he had shown. After that, now, it wasn’t hard at all to tell the little differences. But they still hold the same face. The same nose, the same cheek bones, the same eye form, same eyebrows, same mouth, same lips-

"Hello, Miya. My condolences." 

He mustered the other, taking note of the dark rings under his eyes, the hair lank and skin pale so different from the usual Miya tan. 
He knew how much his brother meant to Atsumu, how much he loved and adored him. It didn’t make the words on his tongue taste any less bitter, any less wrong in his throat and in his ears, for all he didn’t let it show to the other boy. 

The other looked like he was ready to burst, a rage behind his eyes, blank mask gradually slipping. 

"Why was 'Tsumu-" 

"Hello to this cold afternoon. If everyone is present, I think it’s time for us to start." Before The Other Miya could finish his sentence, undoubtedly letting out some kind of anger at Sakusa he didn’t know about and neither cared, the priest appeared and stepped closer to the group, speaking up. "First, thank you all for coming and my condolences for the source of our gathering today." 

Nobody offered any words back in reply, but it didn’t seem like the older man expected anything else. He was probably used to this, Sakusa thought. 

The priest spoke some more, but he found himself barely listening, the crunching under his feet far louder, feeling his cousins presence at his side, The Other Miya long gone, swept away by one of his teammates, his friends.

And suddenly, Kiyoomi heard the sniffles again, felt and saw the tears, the hurt.

"Why- why do they hate me so much, Omi? Wha’ did I do?" 

"I don‘- I feel like I’m failin‘ them, provoking 'em, but- but I don’ mean ta! I swear, Omi! I don’t know- I dunno what ta do to make them like me! Ta see me!" 

"I’m not enough."

"If everyone would sit down in their seats please." 

The coffin was already there, at the front next to the priest who had taken his place and spoke to them, closed, and Kiyoomi didn’t know if they would open it again. Didn’t know if he wanted it to. 
Nevertheless, a photo of Atsumu was placed at the front, a bright smile on his face and in his volleyball uniform; white flowers were surrounding the frame. His eyes were bright and excited, the gold shining through and his smile huge.

Kiyoomi found himself blinking rapidly out of sudden, jaw tensing and chest clenching. After a moment of catching himself, he threw a look at Miya Osamu, the other staring at the picture, unblinking and blank faced, like the raven had done just moments before. At least they had gotten that right, he thought with no small amount of gall. Atsumu looked genuinely happy in the picture.

"I’m going to say a few words now and afterwards we have a speech prepared by one of Atsumu-sans volleyball teammates. If anyone else would like to come forward, they are more than welcome to." 

And with that the priest continued, his speech barely making it past his ears, the words swimming together. Kiyoomi just stared at the photo, the flowers and small details of the image, refused to look at the coffin and only turned in into the speech again to catch the last couple of sentences. 

"-Lose it not something to overcome easily and maybe it’s not meant to, but hopefully Atsumu-san is somewhere peaceful now where he can rest. What we can do is treasure his memory, because memories are what keep him alive in our hearts." 

Silence blared loudly after the older man finished, not even the breathing of the people gathered heard over the quiet. Then, the priest stepped back and from the other side of the row Kiyoomi saw Kita Shinsuke raise from his seat and make his way upfront. So Inarizakis captain was the one holding the speech, maybe it was fitting, Atsumu had only spoken highly of the upperclassman. 
This time, Kiyoomi listened closely. 

"Miya Atsumu was a teammate, a friend who I appreciated greatly."

Oh, did he now? 

"Atsumu was the sun in our team, someone everyone’s eyes would turn to due to his bright and joyful personality, his skill and loudness." the third year paused, "Maybe that’s why we didn’t see and didn’t watch close enough."

Kiyoomi straightened a little in his seat, even when his tongue curled at the gutter in his mouth. 

"Atsumu was so bright, loud and energetic, we didn’t hear his silence, maybe his calls for help. I take full responsibility for that." Kita looked into the crowd, his eyes settling on The Other Miya, but his gaze made everyone listen to his words, feeling spoken to and unable to turn away. 
"As his captain and as his team, his friends and family, we should have listened more, taken care of him more and see past the obvious." the captain closed his eyes for the inch of a second, the only thing showing his emotions maybe, his grief?

"But that’s not why we are here today. We are here to remember Atsumu and everything he meant to us. As a friend, as a classmate and as a brother."
Kiyoomi heard a sniffle.
"We are here to remember that Atsumu wouldn’t want us to be sad, to be outraged or pity him, Atsumu would want us to look up, to continue and not let anyone hold us back. To remember his goals and ambitions, his kindness and friendship. Atsumu would want us to remember the good days, the bright sunny days that Miya Atsumu was." His intelligent eyes were not pointed at anyone  in particular, simply over the crowd, maybe some place far away, but his words didn’t lose any of their strength, their comfort. 

“He’s not nowhere. He’s not dead. He just found that other world."

"I can’t believe you made me do this, Miya."

"Aww, come on Omi-Omi, it ain’t that bad." 

"I’m going to throw you off the cliff as soon as we’re up."

"We’re nearly there an’ no ya wouldn’."

"If you choose sweet ignorance than that’s on you." 

Kiyoomi huffed as he took one step in front of the other, his breath visible in the cold air in front of him, locks regularly falling into his face and inkling his nose. Suddenly, a hand grasped his arm tightly, giving him a brief but hard shake. 

"Ahhhhaha!" Atsumu mock screamed suddenly.

"MIYA!" 

But the blond only laughed at the others expense and short lived panic, even when the ravens heart beat uncontrollably in his chest in shock. 

"Don’t freaking scare me like that!"

The Miya quiet literally chocked on his laugher, coughing, as he threw an incredulous look at the other, eyes startled but sparkling with mischief. 

"Did Omi-kun just swear?!" he had stopped walking, a step ahead, above the other, making Kiyoomi look up a bit for once. 

"Don’t be so dramatic." he snarled, annoyed, pushing against the Miya as he walked past him, legs feeling heavy as they won on height. 

The two teenagers found themselves on a hill, in the middle of a forest, hiking to the top. All just because the blond was bored and thought it would be fun. Kiyoomi still didn’t know why he agreed. 

Atsumu caught up to him with no sign of any issue and somehow it bothered the raven even more. 

"I’m sorry, Omi. I really am, but it’s so funny ta rile ya up!" The Miya knew exactly how to push his buttons. 
When he still didn’t answer, there was quiet for a moment and they took a couple of more steps.

"Hey." 

Kiyoomi stopped walking at the softness in the others voice, the seriousness and- uncertainty? He turned to look at the other. 

"I’m really sorry, okay? Should’ve thought first, are ya scared of heights? Should’ve known, we can go back if ya wanna." 

The blond had a hesitant smile on his face, his demeanor so different from his shit eating grin and behavior just moments before and for some reason it bothered Kiyoomi. 

"Don’t piss your underwear the same colour you pissed your hair, Miya. It’s fine." he huffed, still facing the other and mustering him. Some part of him wanted to take a step closer, get closer, but he stomped down on that urge and settled with something else instead. 
"Let’s get moving, alright? I…think this is a good idea." For some reason he felt his ears turning hot, despite the cold temperatures they found themselves in. "The air will be fresher and cleaner up there, so come on." 

Miya send him a grin, something uncurled in Kiyoomis chest, and the two boys continued their walk, meanwhile the image of a happy, relieved, joyful smile playing on repeat in the ravens mind.

Once at the top, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief, the muscles in his leg already sour. They were surrounded by some trees, but otherwise there was a clear sight of the town and village below them just past the small forest. When Kyioomi turned, the beginning of a comment on his lips, he spotted Atsumu a few feet away from him, just staring at the open landscape in front of him. The blond wasn’t turned to the city but instead the side where the rest of the forest reached and stretched, hundreds of trees adorning the eye, just staring, something peaceful, content on his face, something which could be nearly, nearly described as at peace.

Kiyoomi frowned at the 'nearly'. 

"It’s somehow freeing up here, ain’t it? Peaceful?" 

Atsumu didn’t look at him, golden eyes still pointed at the space in front of him, the cold breeze of the wind ruffling through his blond hair and making way for his face. His voice was quiet, just picked up over the wind, but kind of soft, a breath. 
Kiyoomi stepped closer to him, the two standing next to each other now. He let his eyes wander below them, the slowly setting sun turning everything in a more colorful light, golden light, soon to turn red and orange and what not as well. 

"Yeah, it is." 

"Do ya ever think about what kinda world is waiting out there for ya?" the blond eventually whispered, as if he didn’t dare to interrupt the tranquil atmosphere around them, voice for once so much quieter. Kind of absent, away, too. When Kiyoomi turned to look at him, there was something longing, something wishful, something- hurting? in his eyes.

He faced forward again, chest hurting and stayed silent. Then, he bumped his shoulder against the others. The soft contact surprising himself, but even more surprising how not wrong how right it felt.
Atsumu leaned back after a short moment, the two standing and resting against each other for a bit longer. 

Kiyoomi thought that this right here, right now, really, felt like another world. 
That Atsumu looked like of another world. 

"Ya know on the way back it’ll probably be like dark, cause of the not-there-sun, right? Don’t fall, Omi."

Kiyoomi let out a long suffering sigh, even as the other cackled. 

Kiyoomi swallowed angrily around the fury in his throat, in his stomach, evading anyone’s face and taking deep breathes. Could he expect them to get even this right? What did they even know?  

Skin itching, ants befalling his body, claws scratching at his heart. 

It bothered Kiyoomi, how Inarizakis captain called Atsumu kind and merciful and like he was some kind of deity. 
Because they had never appreciated Atsumus presence, the joy and laughter he brought into other peoples worlds. And they marked him as someone perfect, someone flawless. Which was bullshit. 

He stared at the ground, turned away as his mouth and face twisted behind the face mask into something ugly.

They didn’t appreciate Atsumu, they didn’t appreciate his flaws or attributes, his mistakes but only spoke of him so highly. 
Like he didn’t laugh at your expense, like he hadn’t loved pranks but often was too scared, too unsure to play them out. Like he didn’t own a shit eating grin and an ick for mischief. They didn’t deserve to talk about his kindness and warmth, his openness and vivacity, when they only shoved them away, when they didn’t appreciate his mistakes as well.

His humanity and persona.

But he wished to agree with Inarizakis captain, to agree that maybe, hopefully Atsumu found that other world. The other world he always seemed to long for, when this world only offered him rejection and pain.

Kiyoomi wished he could have made all the pain, the hurt go away. To sooth. But knew he was too useless to help.

Knew he was too late.

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but stare at the photo of Atsumu, his face, his smile, his eyes, the small scar below his eye bags which he couldn’t actually see but knew was there, the way he cocked his head just that tiny little bit and the few strands of hair which sticked with sweat to his forehead, hiding how big it actually was. Something Kiyoomi had always found quiet amusing when he noticed how the blond purposefully styled to hide it that way. 
He looked at the picture and suddenly blinked tears away, the water stinging his eyes and nose prickling. 

'I want you, Atsumu. I appreciated you. All of you. Your flaws. Your mistakes. Your imperfections. You, and only you. Please.'

"Please don’t leave me."

A tissue appeared in front of the ravens face and he turned to see his cousin holding it out for him, a somehow pitying look on his face, even when Sakusa saw how the other tried to suppress it. He ripped it out of the others hand angrily, while he knew his cousin hold no fault, he couldn’t help it, crinkling the tissue in his hand as he refused to show any weakness now, to show anything to the people around him. 
To Atsumus stupid, useless teammates and the brainless, idiotic, attention-seeking pigs of classmates in the rows behind them. He still didn’t understand why they were here, why they pretended, Kyioomi knew of the bullying after all. Did they really bother just because of how 'famous' Atsumu was? How his face had made it in the Japanese Volleyball magazine and now newspaper?
Kyioomis face twisted with rage before he let a cold mask slip over his features again. 

It wasn’t worth it. They all weren’t. 

After the captains speech, another person stepped forward, introducing themselves as one of Atsumus teachers, talking about his bright mind and happy demeanor. About the shame his death brought and how we could only learn and hope such a mistake, accident would never happen again. 
Kiyoomi was tempted to rip the others lips out of their face, a fury (once) unknown to him nearly shaking his limbs and making his eyes blaze with anger. To his surprise, it was one of Inarizakis players, the brunette middle blocker, who stood up eventually and asked for the teacher to quiet down, hands clenched tightly and an at-the-ground-looking Other Miya seated next to him. After that no one stepped up to speak, no other family member and not even Miya Osamu himself. Maybe he didn’t want to, maybe he couldn’t find the right words. For once Kiyoomi thought he couldn’t judge, because he, neither, went upfront. 

The thoughts were eating at him, shoveling at his mind, but the emotions and hurt and pain refused to manifest in his mouth. And they were Kiyoomis anyways, the only other person he would spell them to was dead.

Sakusa Kiyoomi would never utter the words. No one would be there to hear them. 

At the front meanwhile, the priest opened up and gestured for the gathered people to step forward and pay their lasts respects. One of the cemetery workers opened the coffin. 
One person after the other went forward, most of them only staying shortly before leaving for good, some lingering a little longer, Inarizakis team the longest, until only Kiyoomi and The Other Miya were left. 

Kiyoomi didn’t step forward, couldn’t find the courage, a blocker in his brain preventing him from moving any limbs. 

He always had been a coward. 

"Are ya always scowling, Omi-Omi?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Ya really 've a resting bitch face, don’t ya?" 

The other spoke in amusement, but Sakusa was busy suppressing the frown which wanted to appear on his face at the words. 

"I’m only looking around for a place to eat, you know. Like actually searching. Since you are the one being hungry." 

It was true, just a few minutes ago Atsumu had announced his hunger, begging the other to go get some food. To which the Sakusa easily agreed, because to be honest, he felt quiet hungry as well. Not that he would admit such a thing to the blond. 

"Oh, I know where I wanna go. Ya’re gonna like it."

Now Sakusa turned to him once more, face mask secured on his face as they made their way through the people filled streets.

"And you only mention that now?" His voice sounded more exasperated than irritated. Something that put a smile on the blonds face and let a chuckle escape pale lips. He knew, if the raven was really annoyed, they would hold a completely other conversation. 

"I know what I’m doin‘. We’re walking in the right direction." 

Sakusa huffed at that but followed Atsumu as they made their way down a side street, away from the crowd, something which made the raven relax automatically. 

"We’re here!" 

Dark eyes lifted to the small cafe they found themselves in front of, mustering the sign and exhibits closely and critically, noting the clear windows and small decorations, the few chairs and tables outside with an umbrella above them. Atsumu let him and only walked inside when the Sakusa gave the smallest of satisfied nods. He still felt unsure, was ready to go out hungry like so often when he found himself eating somewhere in public, eating something he hadn’t made himself. 

But to his immense surprise, the menu in his hands had a lot of options. After they had ordered their drinks upfront and then choose a table, the raven had noted how the space was tidy and looked clean, even when he still went over his seat and the table with a disinfectant wipe. 

"Find somethin‘ there? Ya should, I searched this cafe up, but otherwise we can just take our drinks 'nd go somewhere else. No biggie."

Dark eyes raised from the menu in front of them and a puzzled look was directed at the Miya. 

"You…know I’m vegetarian?" 

The blond shrugged his shoulders.

"Ya mentioned it once." 

He remembered, Kiyoomi thought with something akin to awe, still staring at the boy before him like he was some kind of alien. 
Normally, he didn’t like eating out. Japan rejected the vegetarian lifestyle somewhat, way too many cafes and restaurants and food chains relaying on at least some kind of meat. Nausea overcame him at the thought of eating some kind of flesh, the concept itself making something uncomfortable and sick curl in his stomach. It wasn’t about the taste, no, but more the thought of eating an animal. Something that was who knows where and did who knows what. Probably doing something disgusting, coated in blood after its death with all the potential sicknesses it carried or got. 
Kiyoomi never raised a fuss when the situation eventually arose to eat something he couldn’t, knew the disapproval which would eventually come and normally just settled with an excuse. 

But, Atsumu had actually researched to find a place where he could enjoy a proper meal, had remembered the small detail told only in passing even. 

And Atsumu didn’t bat an eyelash when he  wiped a table. Atsumu got his own disinfectant bottle out before they met, or ate, or-
Just like he did now. 

Eventually the blond caught Kiyoomis stare and like he knew, fathomed the others thoughts, a smile appeared on his face. Sad at the sides, but never any less soft, warm.

"Ya don’t have ta pretend with me, Omi. Ya know that, right?" 

It wasn’t fucking fair. It was not. 

Kiyoomi sat in his chair and stared with empty eyes at the coffin upfront, head lost to sweet memories, so sweet and warm memories that the cold around him stood as a sharp, burning reminder. 

The burning, burning memory of Miya Atsumu. 

Of the times they met and laughed and snickered together. The times they shared their silence, co-existed contentedly. Not peacefully, because Kiyoomi wouldn’t exactly call their friendship? bond? peaceful. He had felt at peace around Atsumu, around his vivid colours and bright persona. But often they were also so loud, so so lively maybe. Kiyoomi had felt alive around Atsumu. 

Had had had

Around Atsumu, Kiyoomi hadn’t needed to pretend, to act, to press down on the urge and ickiness of his skin, to feel ashamed for who he was, how he saw and lived and felt. He hadn’t needed to do any of that, something slipping away, something breaking down, which had built up the past years without the ravens notice. 

Snow started to fall, small ice crystals gently dancing in the sky, descending and descending until they flocked together and joined their siblings on the ground. The few flacks put a little colour in the image, the cemetery, was it otherwise only dark numb greys and browns. Another hour passed and only two boys breaths adorned the air. A third lying deeply still, but not forgotten, without any air, any breath filling or leaving his lungs ever again. 

'I had worn a mask for so long, I didn’t know who I was anymore. But you never failed to remind me, sometimes show me. 
Did I ever know myself, let me be me, until you appeared in my life?'

Can I ever thank you enough? Pay you back?
Or will the absence of you just make me forget again?'

"Hey, Omi!"

Kiyoomi sighed internally, not even protesting at the nickname anymore since it was of no use (even when something warm tickled inside of him at the name, the voice, but not going to admit such a thing). 

"Yes, Miya?" 

"Do ya wanna go skating sometime?"

"Skating?"

"Yeah like ice skating, ya know?"

Kiyoomis eyebrows crunched together as he lowered the coffee from his lips, the steam of the hot drink tickling his nose. Atsumu looked at him curiously, awaiting an answer, his blond hair mostly hidden by the red wool hat he was wearing, only a few strands peaking out. The red material was covered in stickers, sewed or- god help him- glued to the fabric, different shape and sizes and colours causing one to cringe, but the Miya didn’t seem to care, quiet the opposite.

"You like skating?"

"All kinds of sport!"

"Are you that bored?" he snorted.

Atsumu hit him on the shoulder and Kiyoomi hid his smile in his scarf, the yellow fabric a little worn out by the endless washing and years it already had endured. 

"So?"

"Hmmm, when do you want to go?" the raven considered. 

"So that’s a yes!"

"I never said that."

"Yes ya did!" Atsumu protested. 

"Nuhu."

"Omi-Omi!" the blond laughed and the raven chuckled as well, both boys going quiet as they took another sip of their drinks. Kiyoomi looked over to the other as he took a gulp of his drink, the coffee mostly bitter but with a bit more sugar, a little cream in it, something he had involuntarily picked up from a certain someone. Atsumu drank his hot chocolate without a care for how it probably burned his tongue, cream with sprinkles and caramel sirup added to the drink to make it extra sweet, as if the other didn’t know what diabetes was or simply didn’t care.

"Alright, when do you want to go." Kiyoomi asked and was rewarded with a wide gentle smile. 

"Ya don’t have ta go, if ya don’t wanna."

"I don’t do things I don’t like. You should know that by now, Miya."

Golden eyes sparkled like suns and then something cheeky flew over the others features. 

"Aw, so ya like me??"

"Never said that."

"Ya did!"

"Did not."

"Ye~es!"

Kiyoomi threw his empty cup at the others face, the boy spluttering as he kicked it out of his lap, protesting.

"What was that for?!"

"Because I felt like it." A blank face was directed at the other.

"’kay, well, I feel like goin‘ ice skating!" Atsumu huffed, pouting.

"Right now?" 

"Right now!" the blond confirmed and Kyioomi suffered a sigh, standing up.

"Okay then, come on."

"Wait, wha- I haven’ even finished my drink!"

"You can do that on the way."

It hadn’t taken long for the two boys to find the right train to the next ice skating arena, soon stepping inside the building and walking up to the shoe rental. Atsumu was walking leisurely next to the raven, but he knew the other good enough by now to see the excitement in his eyes, notice the carefully suppressed bounce in his steps. 

When it was time to walk on the ice, Kiyoomi hesitated, staying a few feet behind the blond. Unfortunately for him, the other noticed. 

"Ya alright, Omi?" he asked, a confused crinkle in his raised eyebrow, feet on the ice but still turned to him. 
Kiyoomi bit back a scowl as he took a step forward, eyeing the ice and his skates critically and trying to keep his face blank. 

"Wait.."

"No."

"Omi…"

"No!"

"Ya have never skated before?!"

Now the raven lifted his head again to glare at the Miya, angry he put himself into the situation, angry that he couldn’t. Just. Take. A step. Forward. Goddamnit.

"Not everyone is a crazy energetic chihuahua."

"Wa- I ain’t no dog!"

"I said chihuahua."

"That’s a dog!"

"But they act like a whole other bread and you’re just proving my point."

"Don’ try ta change the topic!"

Unfortunately that was exactly what Kiyoomi was doing, much to his annoyance. But if there was anything Sakusa Kyioomi hated in this world, like he hated germs and bacteria and people, then it was losing. 
So he took a step forward finally, on the ice. 

And nearly fell.

"Whoa, whoa, Omi! Take it slow. Here."

Atsumu caught him just in time to prevent the other to face plant into the ice, something which wouldn’t beneficial either of them, holding his arm and putting him upright again. And not letting go for a lingering moment. 
Something Kiyoomi was entirely aware of, and not for the usual reason of contact. 

"Do ya wanna one of those penguins over there ta help ya?"

"Those are for children, Miya."

"They’re for beginners, no shame in tha‘, Omi-Omi." 

Atsumu voice was nonchalant, like he stated simple facts, but Kiyoomi heard the tinge of amusement in there. He scowled, a huff escaping him and wished not for the first time he hadn’t kept his face mask at home.

With shaky steps, the raven hold himself close to the veranda, desperately searching for balance as his poor legs tried to keep up with the unfamiliar ground under his feet. Atsumu skated untroubled up next to him, hands burrowed in his pockets, watching the other. 

"Sometime‘ it needs a little time, ya know. But I’m sure ya gonna skate great at the end!" the blond offered him as encouragement and Kiyoomi wished he shared the optimism. 

Distracted by just that brief thought, his feet suddenly slipped again and he hold on tightly to the wall next to him as he tried to find his footing. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Atsumus hovering hands not far from him, the skin of his fingertips a little red from the cold and unusually pale. And as he settled and they continued skating (walking, waddling in the ravens case), he noticed the slightly tense set of the others shoulders, the way his eyes would snap to him from time to time. Kiyoomi would be annoyed at the special treatment, act, if it wasn’t completely justified. 
Nah, he still hated it. 

"You can go skate on your own as well, if you want to. You don’t have to stick with me." 

Atsumus head snapped around to him as he spoke up, gaping for a moment before something unsure? but somehow still determined crossed his features. 

"Nah, we got here togethe', I ain’t leaving ya alone." 

"You don’t have to babysit me, Miya."

"I- I simply enjoy yer presence!" 

Kiyoomi nearly lost his balance a third time. 

"What? Miya can’t go off on his own? I thought you know so many sports, if you claim to be so good, why don’t you show me, huh?" he shot back in reply, knowing it was probably a pathetic attempt at getting the Miya to do something and actually enjoy his time here. But if he was sure of one thing, then it was of how much Atsumu disliked losing just like he himself did. Maybe he wouldn’t fall for it, but still hear his words. 

And some lucky god must have shit in his cereal that morning, because the blond huffed in offense. And then leaned closer to the raven, a few inches between their faces, Kiyoomi nearly feeling the others warm breath on his lips and for once not experiencing the usual recoil at the sensation, breathing stopping, as Atsumu spoke quietly. 

"I’m gonna show ya what I can do." he whispered mischievously, eyes blistering and burning with gold fire so close to the dark coal and endless black galaxy of the boy before him. 

(And Atsumu was fueled by it.)

Kiyoomi watched as the other ran off, skating closer to the inner circle and doing rounds and rounds. He didn’t like to admit it, but the other was fast, and good too unfortunately. The blond circled around other people, evading some by the length of his hair, sharp blades with even sharper turns, his skating just as reckless, as bold and daring as his setting and play. He watched all that as the raven allowed himself a moment of pause at the railing, his eyes following the other. Atsumu began to stay in the inner circle and suddenly he span. He span around himself, arms close to his chest as his body became a blur and Kiyoomi could do nothing but watch in wonder and surprise. 

In awe because when Atsumu stopped, his body slowing and coming to a steady halt, he saw and noticed and watched the soft happy smile on the others face. The way his body heaved with breaths and exhaustion, his hair ruffled and out of place, his face red from the exercise and lips parted, but smile still so very present, so very consistent and unwavering on his face. Eyes closed as he basked in the moment, Kiyoomi could only watch the human-being Miya Atsumu was. 

And then those eyes suddenly found his own, a golden fire burning into Kiyoomis  soul and he could only think of one thing. 

Miya Atsumu was fire, someone who burned and burned and burned for what he loved and who he was. Someone who spread his warmth to others, shared all he had, someone who didn’t care for the consequences of his burns, who’s fire was brighter, wilder, hotter than anyone else’s. 

And Sakusa Kiyoomi thought he didn’t mind burning, too. Burning if it meant being burnt by Miya Atsumu. Hurt if it meant staying in his light, in his fire a little longer. 

Kiyoomi hadn’t known how much of his world were held in the others palms, how lost and alone he had felt until Atsumu had stepped into his life and declared himself part of it. Until he was everything but

The snow flakes fell around him, landing on his arms and hands, and Kiyoomi watched blankly as they melted on his skin. 
More time had passed, but he couldn’t tell how much, didn’t care. Upfront he saw The Other Miya kneeling in front of the coffin Atsumus coffin , his shoulders and back trembling, soft quiet sobs reaching his ears. He must have been there for a while. His own chest squeezed painfully at the sound and he turned his gaze away, allowing the other as much privacy as he could give him, this much he could do and respect. 

His fingers clenched at the proximity of going up there himself, catching one last look at Atsumu. He refused. 
He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t go up there and look into Atsumus cold and pale face. The lack of smile, of emotions on his face when Miya Atsumu had been nothing but an open book to Kiyoomi. He didn’t want to forget his the happy Atsumu. Wanted to store the happy memories. 

"It’s gonna be okay. It’s- it’s gonna be fine. Y-You’re fine."

"Please Atsumu!"

It filled his body and heart with disgust, ashamed to his core, he couldn’t even do this last and simplest thing. But he couldn’t, and he had no shame, no pride left to give. 

It hurt too much, to face it. He thought he may throw up. 

Maybe if he had been born a stronger man (-a boy, Omi! We’re still teenagers, ya know. The world ain’t resting on yer shoulders.") maybe then he could pay Atsumu his last respects too. But Kiyoomi wasn’t strong, hasn’t felt strong in weeks and probably never was in the first place. 

Tears ran down his face. 

He hoped Atsumu could forgive him one day. 

Kiyoomi averted his eyes to anything but the ground as he stood up from his seat, ready to leave, to go on a walk, to get away from this place and his feelings and maybe walk until his legs would give out and he would just lie on the ground and stop feeling. Just. Stop. Working. 

But alas the raven wasn’t as lucky, because he had only gotten a couple of feet away before a hand clasped his shoulder, holding on strong and stopping him in his steps. He turned, trying to brush the hand off, but the grip remained hard and stubborn and he found himself face to face with Miya Osamu. 

The wrong Miya. Wrong wrong wrong but still looking- 

The other looked at him with blood shot and glistening eyes, broken lips and fury and grief rolling off him in waves. His mouth formed a thin line, jaw clenched and hair unkempt. Sakusa stared right back. 

"Ya didn’t answer my question."

Sakusa remembered the beginning of a conversation earlier that day, but could only feel annoyance for the boy in front of him.

"What question?" he forced himself to ask after a second. But if anything, the rage of the other intensified. 

"Why wasn’t 'Tsumu with ya that day? Why- Why wasn’t he at yer place?" His voice was pressed, cut off, the words coming out hard and angry, his breathing fast as brown eyes flared and the hand on his shoulder tightened. 

And Sakusa knew which day he meant, of course he did, and he couldn’t help but ask himself the same question. 
Yet-

"Why did you think he was at mine? Atsumu and I have met approximately ten times in the last year." He knew his tone was cold, dispassionately and unimpressed, but he was too tired, too hurting. Too uncaring to put any kind of energy into comforting the grey haired boy in front of him. He finally brushed the hand off his shoulder and stomped on the part of him that wanted to slide the jacket off his form. 

To his surprise and bewilderment, The Other Miya let him and paled at his reply, eyes stilling together with his breath and then he took an abrupt step forward. 

"Wha- What do ya mean? Atsumu- ‘Tsumu has been at yers all the damn time, sleep overs an’ stuff, he- he-" The panic made his words come out in sharp breaths, urgency and terror in his voice as his eyes were blown wide, filled with despair and anguish. 

Sakusa only stared in confusion. Then it slowly dawned on him, the pieces becoming a little clearer and he looked back at the other in regret, grief. And anger. So much anger. He couldn’t keep it in. Was the other serious-

"Do you even know your goddamn brother! Do you car-" he stopped, no no no Atsumu wouldn’t have wanted that. He took a breath. "Did you ever ask what he was doing? I know your parents are abusers, knew they favored you over Atsumu, but didn’t you?" He stared at the other with incredulity. And rage.
"Did you even live in that goddamn house?"

A pause, then-

"No."

Sakusa lunged for breath as his lungs pumped and pumped for more air after his storm of emotions and words. But his brain refused to pick up its work, couldn’t follow instructions because surely his ears must have picked up something wrong. Something false.

But then, slowly, so very slowly, it made sense. 

"You were never there." he whispered, not even asking because he knew, staring at The Other Miya in disbelief as the latter had turned his face to the ground, arms clenched at his sides and shaking.

And then Sakusa scoffed, something furious and shaking and- bubbling in his chest. 

"Atsumu- Atsumu said you were with that middle blocker of yours all the time, but I thought- I assumed-" his words cut off at his bitter voice, "I thought he meant after school, other stuff, but- but-" and as abruptly as it raised, his voice died. 

"He was alone and nobody knew." 

A new gravity settled over them. Grief, regret and deep deep self hatred filling both hurting boys to the very brim. Pain and anguish in every of their cells as the snow continued falling, as their hearts continued hurting and trashing and longing and grieving. 

And then Sakusa felt a punch to his face, the hit so sudden, so out of nowhere he stumbled back, hitting the ground. When he looked up, nose pulsing and the beginning of iron assaulting his mouth, shock on his face, he stared at flashing and venomous eyes, anger and hatred swimming and deeply rooted. 

"Ya- Ya know nothin’! Nothing!" his voice while accusing and hateful, broke and more tears started to descend on Miya Osamus tortured face. 
Then he stomped off, his footsteps soon fading and leaving and Sakusa Kiyoomi could only stay and watch.

Alone once again. 

With nothing more than wet clothes and the taste of copper and dirt assaulting his senses, he sat there unmoving, numb and so so done. So so dull and cold. 

Had Atsumu really been alone all this time? In that house? With those people? 

"My parents ain’t like me much, prefer 'Samu. But that ain’t so bad, as long as they leave me alone." 

"Nah, I can’t videochat today, my cameras broke. Let’s jus’ chat." 

"My ma ain’t like other people home. How about we gonna go into the city, promise I’ll show ya some quieter places without so many peoples-"

"Can we talk about somethin’ else? Please?"

Kiyoomi knew he should have asked more, pressed more. He knew, he knew there had been something up, something wrong, but he would have never, never thought that- 

He chocked on a sob, damnit on swallowing it down so he did. His fingers clenched and shook against the wet and snowy grass below him, fingernails going dirty as his skin prickled with pain and piercing cold and the slowly setting in numbness. His arms felt weak, as if they couldn’t hold on, carry the weight of his upper body for much longer, muscles trembling. 

Pathetic, he was so pathetic pathetic pathetic. 

People claimed he was talented, smart, neat, polite, a volleyball god. Kiyoomi felt like none of these things. 

He felt dirty, disgusting, shameful and a waste of space. Useless. 

Why Why Why

Alone. 

Kiyoomi knew pain, knew abandonment, had known it all his life. With his classmates, teammates and family members who would sneer at him and see him as nothing but a freak for his habits and flaws. 
Kiyoomi knew pain. 
He wished he didn’t need to add lose to that growing list as well.

Wished for the agony to finally stop.

More snow fell and decorated the cemetery, covering the grass and shaking boy. Kiyoomi had no strength left, no fight, no will-

He only thought and remembered and wished-

Wished so much. Too much

"I whispered 'I love you.' I hope you heard before you left, Atsumu." the boy spoke shakily after a while, voice weak, heart tearing. 

He sought a warmth, a burn. The warmth, the burn. The flame he would never get back, feel again, taste again. The despair and anguish in his body, his heart and soul and every last of his limbs and cells making that all too clear. 

Finally he lifted his face, lips parting as he struggled for breath and only felt more liquid leaving his mouth, the back of a hand wiping over the flood gathered at his chin, a vibrant dark red colour caught the corner of his eyes. 

Red, red, red. It was always red. 

Atsumu had been red. A burning dark red. 
Until his very last moment. 

Kiyoomi stared at the sky as he saw only more red in his mind and eyes and he hoped that Atsumu had worn something red maybe today as well, no matter how small it had been. 

Miya Atsumu was red. A fire too wild to bend, too free to capture, saved for the gods and deities. 

Fate hadn’t given us time to experience the love I felt growing between us. But did that mean I would have never loved you, Atsumu? Never did? Never fell in love with you, the same way I fell for all your silly antics and little traits? Or did that made me just long for you even more?

Yearn more for what will never be? 

How can fate be so cruel, so so cruel, to only let you realize what you treasured, realize what you seek, realize what you need and love when it’s gone? 

And forever lost? 

'You are enough, you were a thousand times enough, Atsumu.
How could anyone ever doubt that?
How could I let you doubt that?'

"I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you."

Kiyoomi chocked on the words plaguing his mind, the salvia gathered in his mouth, the tears running down his face and the blood clinging to his insides. 

Facing the sky and searching searching searching. 

People say humans heal with time, they forget. But if it means forgetting our memories, forgetting your smile, your eyes, your habits and your stupid stupid voice. If it means forgetting you, Atsumu, 

then I don’t want to heal. 

Once I drowned in a brilliant burning red, now I’m choking for breath because it had become my only air.