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Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu were highly respected and admired professional athletes. They have been in the spotlight since they were in high school (regardless of how much some of them may have disliked it) and for good reasons.
Their natural talent and refined skills have made waves throughout the volleyball world. Them and their fellow friends from the Monster Generation captivated thousands the moment they hit the national stage.
With people like Atsumu, Hinata and Hoshiumi a part of their circle of friends, it was only inevitable that their likeness and popularity would spread over to other parts of the internet through social media.
Due to the three’s incessant, constant and borderline threatening demands, almost everyone on the JNT had created their own public social media account sometime during their first year in the vleagues. Those that didn’t create one had one made for them and had their login details texted to them by a certain setter.
With their wild mix of personalities, people outside of the volleyball community began to follow the rag-tag team of volleyball men and their friends solely because of certain online interactions.
TikToks of attractive athletes doing e-girl dances, Twitter interactions between known streamers and random V-League athletes, YouTube videos of the ‘life behind an MSBY player’ detailing how Miya Atsumu manages to fumble through every second of his day… Kuroo felt like they were doing his job for him.
As a result of all this, the men had two new things to deal with.
An endless number of talks from their various managers about online privacy on how to stop leaking their personal information on livestreams and the never-ending interviews.
Before their online personalities really blew up, they had already gotten accustomed to staying behind after their games for post-match interviews. The interviews were usually simple and straight to the point. Always about volleyball and maybe a question or two about how they were doing behind the scenes.
Now , they felt like they had to concoct some kind of elaborate plan to escape all the interviewers and journalists trying to come up to them to ask them questions beyond their games. It was always worse after their bigger and more hyped-up games, like the MSBY vs Adlers match and, of course, the Olympics.
Which was exactly what had just happened that day.
For a trio of well-known professional athletes, Ushijima, Sakusa and Atsumu were not looking too hot.
Atsumu was frustratingly trying to find their house key in his bag, as he hopping in place from needing to use the bathroom so badly .
In their attempt to escape the journalists after their match that day, Ushijima and Sakusa practically shoved Atsumu into their car and drove off. They were still in their jerseys so stopping at a gas station right after their faces were plastered on every screen in Japan was not an option.
Behind Atsumu was his long-term partner, Sakusa. Or, a husk of the shell that was once Sakusa. The man’s curls have somehow seemed to lack their usual rizz . Instead, it hung hauntingly in front of his face, obscuring his eyeballs but highlighting the heavy eye bags underneath them. He stood like one of those skeletons Biology teachers would keep in the back of the classroom as he observed Atsumu hop around with no sympathy whatsoever. He was too exhausted.
Though, not as exhausted as Ushijima. Their other partner was practically passed out in the bushes.
Throughout the drive, the man was barely conscious. He had practically sleepwalked himself to their front door.
When he tried to lean against the lamppost nearby, he missed it by two feet and fell into the bushes. The only reason Sakusa didn’t consider it completely hopeless was because Ushijima’s lower body was still on the pavement so he wasn’t really stuck in their shrubs.
“I found it! Fuckin’ hell, finally !”
Atsumu pulled out the keyring as though he was pulling out the Sword of Excalibur from its rock and kicked the door open once it had been unlocked. The setter ran in without even turning on the lights. It was a miracle he did not trip over one of Ushijima’s million dumbbells.
Sakusa and Ushijima did not have the mental energy (or awareness) to comment on how the door knob was going to leave a dent in their wall.
“Wakatoshi. We’re home.”
“...”
“Wakatoshi?”
“...”
“Please don’t make me carry you. I’m so tired, I will cry.”
Sakusa’s exhaustion was so bad he was beginning to break character. Yet, Ushijima laid lifeless amongst the fertile soil and the concrete.
“Y’all, I was practically a water fountain in there–”
Atsumu stopped in his tracks when he got out of the bathroom and was greeted by nothing but darkness. Either his partners had fallen asleep on the couch without turning the lights on, or they never made it through the front door.
“Toshi? Omi-Omi?”
The setter began to pat the walls until he found the light switch. With their living room and genkan lit up, he could confirm that his partners did not make it in.
“Uh oh.”
Slightly panicked, Atsumu walked over to the window that gave him a clear view to their front door and the sidewalk leading up to it. In the soft glow of the lamppost, he saw his boyfriend rolling his other boyfriend onto their portable trolley . The same trolley they used to wheel around the boxes they had when moving in.
Atsumu couldn’t make the move to help Sakusa. He was feeling a mixture of disbelief at what he was witnessing and curiosity to see how this all was to go down.
“Are you going to keep watching or will you at least open the door for us?”
The setter snapped out of his thoughts. He didn’t even register that Sakusa had already reached the door. Atsumu quickly stepped aside to pull open the door for them.
“Help me unload Wakatoshi in the far left corner of the living room.”
“Wh– Why so specific, Omi-omi?”
“Just do it.”
Deciding not to ask any questions, Atsumu saluted and wheeled their third over to where Sakusa had directed him to after he pulled Ushijima’s shoes off.
There really was no graceful way to unload a man from a handheld trolley. Atsumu simply tried to tip it over gently so that Ushijima did not go down too hard.
Soon, the reason why Sakusa had asked him to unload their man there made sense.
They doorbell began going off in repeated succession as though it was Hinata standing outside after ingesting five cups of coffee. The speaker for the doorbell was built in the corner Ushijima was at, which meant that the man had no choice but to wake up. Unfortunately, this meant that Atsumu’s ears had been collateral in this scheme.
“Wakatoshi,” Sakusa called out from their genkan. “Wake up.”
The Adlers player groaned from his spot in the corner. Atsumu felt bad for him and reached down to smooth out the man’s hair.
“Toshi, babyyyy. Ya gotta shower. Yer all stinky and gross.”
“You as well, Atsumu.”
“Exactly! Why don’t we shower together? All three of us?”
Atsumu ignored Sakusa’s protests from the genkan. He knew that Sakusa would allow it once he offered to give the other man a back massage as he washed his hair for him.
Unlike the other two, Atsumu still had some energy left in him. To him, endless interviews felt like regular conversations. Sure, it also meant he was typically the target of those ‘online privacy’ talks their team needed to have every so often. But it meant that he was able to pamper his two introverts after a big match.
He was still exhausted but Ushijima and Sakusa wouldn’t be able to stay awake for longer than an hour anyway.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
“Perfect! Should I wheel you there, Toshi?”
“... If I’m being honest, the offer is tempting. But I will have to decline.”