Chapter Text
Sakusa was accustomed to a certain lifestyle, growing up in a mansion in the countryside, he was home tutored in addition to the best education money could buy, a butler to see to his every need, and every gift he could ever want. Sure he rarely saw his parents, but who needed those when he could play volleyball.
By fourteen, he had exactly one goal in mind, to become a professional player, and play for Japan. Unfortunately for him, tragedy struck in the form of a freak accident, and brought with it the news that no teenager with dreams ever wanted to hear. If he continued to play, he risked destroying what little still worked in his wrists. After numerous surgeries and visitations from the highest experts in the world, he and his parents admitted defeat.
For years, Sakusa sulked in his room, refusing to see anyone or do anything, until a visit from Komori rekindled a small slither of hope in him.
“Have you ever considered a different career in volleyball?”
“I can’t play Komori,” Sakusa snapped.
“No, but that doesn’t mean you can’t coach.”
Sakusa immediately dismissed the words, if he couldn’t play, the rest was worthless, but as time went on, the words nested in his brain and took root. Within a few weeks, he went to watch Komori play, and started to spot issues with the team's play. From then on, he took a notepad with him to every game, and wrote it all down, then gave it to the coach. The coach read through the documents and asked Sakusa to join the team and assist him.
Nearly twenty years later, Sakusa was now volleyball coach at one of the most prestigious schools in Japan, where he himself had attended. He had a gorgeous townhouse apartment a short distance from the school, and lived a very comfortable life. Other than visiting his parents once a month, and watching Komori’s games, his entire life was the volleyball team.
–
Sakusa looked up at this year's batch of trialists and flicked through the application forms, as always he started with the setters, there were two. He called the first one forward, and got him to set balls for the starting lineup's ace, watching him move, then flicked over to the second sheet.
“Alright, Miya, you’re up.”
Sakusa watched the other setter move up and speak to the ace before starting. Sakusa’s eyes widened when he saw the raw talent in action, sure he was not as in sync with the ace as their starting setter now, but the kid sure showed promise. Sakusa nodded along, until Miya fumbled a little with a jump, and Sakusa noticed the kids' volleyball shoes were worn and had a hole in them. He frowned a little and checked his notes, sure enough Miya was on a volleyball scholarship there, but even so, there would still be some fees to pay. Surely anyone who could send their kid here could afford some decent shoes?
Sakusa kept an eye on Miya over the coming weeks, and on more than one occasion the old shoes had cost Miya a set or block. Sakusa had finished locking up the gym one evening a month in, and stepped outside to see Miya still waiting in the car park.
“Miya?”
“Yes coach?”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“My dads just running late.”
“I see,” Sakusa paused, it was getting dark and he didn’t want to leave one of his students alone, plus he was interested to meet Miya’s father and talk to him anyway, so he struck up a discussion on setting and waited.
Nearly an hour later a run down car pulled into the parking lot and an older version of Miya got out, approaching.
“So sorry I’m late kid, overslept,” Atsumu said.
Sakusa pursed his lips at that, who on earth oversleeps and leaves their kid alone in the dark for an hour?
“That’s okay dad, Coach kept me company.”
“Oh, yer their coach, pleased to meetcha, the name’s Atsumu,” the blond offered out his hand.
Sakusa shook it slowly, “coach Sakusa, could I have a word with you actually?”
“Go wait in the car kid,” Atsumu said, unlocking it with the fob and watching his son move away.
“It’s about his shoes, the quality of them is holding back his game play. If he hopes to make starting setter, he would require new ones,” Sakusa said bluntly, “I cannot possibly make him the starting setter as it is.”
Atsumu swallowed, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, and nodded, “alright, I’ll see what I can do, is that all?”
Sakusa nodded.
“Okay, thanks fer lookin’ after him..” Atsumu said, and jogged over to his car, getting in and driving off.
Sakusa moved to his own car and drove home, a lot on his mind.
–
Sakusa hadn’t expected new shoes the next day, or even that week, people were busy, these things took time, but even a month on, Miya was still turning up in the old shoes, and worse, Atsumu was frequently late picking up Miya, to the point Sakusa had waited with him 6 times in the last 3 weeks alone, each time Atsumu offered embarrassed apologies, and looking like he’d just woken up.
Sakusa started to get annoyed, and ranted about the boy's father to Komori on the phone, careful not to name the child or fathers name due to the school rules. Komori offered an unhelpful ‘maybe there's something going on you don't know about’ and quickly changed the subject. Sakusa sighed and hung up shortly after. The following day he asked Miya to go get him something from the supply room, noted his shoe size and purchased a new pair of shoes, leaving them in the boys locker.
At the end of practice Miya approached him.
“Err… coach…”
“Yes Miya?”
“Thank ya… for the shoes.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Miya held up the shoes to show him, and Sakusa offered a confused expression.
“Sure… thank ya anyway, dad will be pleased.”
Sakusa hummed in reply as Miya turned to leave, “oh and practise up, I want to start migrating you to starting setter in the next few weeks.”
Miya grinned and skipped away, out into the car park. Sakusa followed a few minutes later, to see Atsumu’s car was absent yet again. Miya checked his phone and sighed then started walking to the exit.
“Where are you going?” Sakusa called after him.
“Dads stuck at work, I gotta get the bus home.”
“I can give you a lift if you like.”
“Really?” Miya said, grinning at him, “thanks.”
Sakusa unlocked his car and got in, waiting for Miya to get in and put his belt on, then started up the engine.
“Where do you live?”
Miya told him the address, causing Sakusa to frown a little, he knew the area, it wasn’t cheap. So Atsumu had enough money to live in a nice house and send his son to a nice school but not buy him new shoes to help his career? Did Atsumu not want his son to be a volleyball player? Was he intentionally hindering him?
Sakusa let thoughts fill his brain as they drove on, he knew Miya fully intended to become a professional volleyball player, and he was certainly going to assist the young man in achieving his dreams, regardless of what Atsumu may want or not want. He pulled up the car outside the house and looked at it. It was in a sorry state, run down, with rusted metal and flaking paint, the garden was overrun with weeds. It was all unkempt and utterly unloved. Sakusa felt more and more sorry for Miya as the time went on.
He waited for the young man to get out and then drove home, unsure of what to do. Should he get child services involved? He decided to phone Komori and talk it over that evening.
–
The following morning Atsumu was standing outside the gym when Sakusa arrived, holding the new shoes, and looking like he was dead inside, black circles under his eyes and looking dishevelled like he’d been awake for hours, not just fresh out of bed. Sakusa approached.
“Why did ya buy him these? I know it was ya, I said I was taking care of it.”
“That was a month ago Atsumu… your son was suffering from a lack of shoes. So I stepped in to help him.”
“Ya don’t get to decide what he does and doesn't need, yer not his father.”
“Very well, I apologise, if you don’t want him to use them, throw them away.”
Miya approached them, looking confused, “dad…? What's going on? Why do ya have my shoes?”
“I…“ Atsumu started.
“I can keep them right? I play so much better in them, please?” Miya looked between Atsumu and Sakusa, a little panicked.
“Of course ya can kid, I was just… thanking Sakusa for them.” He handed the shoes over and walked away without another word.
–
Things were rapidly going downhill in Sakusa’s peaceful life. After several bad practices in a row, two lost games, and a phone call from his mother saying she’s found him a ‘perfect girl to settle down with’ then Atsumu was late picking Miya up again, Sakusa had had enough. He went home and phoned Komori, only to get voice mail, and lost his temper completely, heading to a bar in town, far away from the school, not wanting any parents to see him drinking, even though it was a friday night and he was perfectly entitled to.
He ordered himself a drink and sat at the bar, to try and disguise the fact he was drinking alone. Just before he finished his first drink, and sat contemplating whether or not to order another, a second glass was set before him.
“On the house for ya.”
“I didn’t order…” Sakusa started and looked into the eyes of Atsumu, wearing the uniform of the bar staff.
That explains why he looked so tired the other morning… he works nights… Does that mean Miya is alone all night? How on earth can he afford that house and school on bartender money?
A throat clear brought him back to reality, and he realised he was just staring at the pint, lost in thought.
“Thought I’d give ya one on the house as a thank ya for the shoes.”
Sakusa nodded, “you’re welcome I suppose, and thank you.”
Atsumu nodded and went off to serve other people, by the time Atsumu had returned, Sakusa was two pints, three large glasses of wine, several cocktails and four shots in, and looking very worse for wear. Atsumu set a pint of water in front of Sakusa as the raven swayed a lot in his seat. He took it and drank, then frowned.
“This isn’t alcohol, you’re trying to cheat me!” he exclaimed.
“Yer right, it’s water, now drink it up, it’s nearly closing time and ya can't walk.”
“I can, look.” Sakusa got up and immediately stumbled, until a strong arm grabbed his bicep and pulled him back onto the stool.
Atsumu sighed and slid the water closer, thankful Sakusa took it and started drinking. Once he was satisfied Sakusa had drunk enough, he hung up his apron and moved around to help the raven up.
“Come on, let's get ya home.”
Sakusa nodded, draping his arm around Atsumu’s shoulder and let the other man handle him to his car.
“This car reminds me of one of my students…” Sakusa started, slurring out his words.
“I see…” Atsumu said as he shoved Sakusa into the passenger seat and did his belt up.
“Yes… poor kid, his father can't afford anything for him, it's crippling his chances of going pro at volleyball, I had to step in and help out… and he’s always late, probably a deadbeat, or a drunk…” Sakusa waffled on, “I wish I could do more as a teacher… to help the ones who are neglected.”
Atsumu pulled out Sakusa’s wallet, and looked up his address, fighting back tears, and drove to Sakusa’s place as the other man prattled on about how useless he was. He got Sakusa up to his front door, and abandoned him there, not feeling remotely guilty about whether or not he got inside okay, and drove home. He paused at his son’s bedroom door after seeing the babysitter out, and watched him sleep, then went into his bedroom and pulled his laptop towards him, searching for more work.
–
To say that Sakusa was hung over, was an understatement. The smell woke him up, and then sobered him up, he was lying half in his open doorway, next to a pool of his own vomit. He scrambled up looking horrified and ran to the bathroom, to start furiously rubbing his face. Once the initial shock wore off, the aftermath happened in three phases. Firstly, he felt like shit. He ordered himself take away breakfast and several large black coffees, handed to him over the pile of vomit that the driver eyed worried.
Fueled by breakfast and caffeine, he kicked off phase two - he cleaned. Not just the hall and the bathroom, but his entire house from top to bottom over the next six hours. As he recovered, that's when phase three kicked in, the memories returned. He dropped the cloth he was holding and ran to the phone to call Komori in a panic.
Komori, the ever dutiful cousin arrived an hour later with take away, and a large tub of ice cream.
“I would have brought a bottle of wine, but it sounds like you had enough last night…” Komori joked as he came in and settled on the couch with the pizza.
Sakusa groaned and put the ice cream in the freezer, throwing himself down in a pile of lanky limbs and self pity.
“Well you really fucked up this one didn’t you?” Komori said round pizza.
“I… guess I thought I was talking to you or something…” Sakusa said, frowning.
“I suppose the only way to know if he does any official reporting or anything is with the principle on Monday, other than that… I would say the only thing you have to worry about is the fact you were a massive asshole and he will probably hate you forever, I doubt he will take the kid out the school, it’s a fantastic school and he’s not exactly going to be paying a lot for it if he’s on scholarship.”
Sakusa groaned, “I can’t lose Miya, I need him in the starting line up.”
“That’s what you’re worried about? You selfish… wait… hold up, did you say Miya?”
“Fuck… no I didn’t, forget that.”
“Osamu Miya’s son?”
Sakusa shook his head, “No, Atsumu.”
Komori frowned, “are you sure? I’m pretty sure Atsumu doesn’t have kids.”
“I can assure you Komori, he does.”
Komori frowned, and pulled out his phone, looking through something, then started counting on his fingers, “the kids what, fourteen?”
Sakusa nodded, eating pizza and groaning.
Komori continued, “yeah… I knew the Miya twins back then… Osamu and Suna had been dating since high school… They had a baby before Osamu turned twenty, and Atsumu went on to play pro ball for a year. He does not have a kid that age.”
“Maybe the kid’s adopted?” Sakusa said, frowning, trying to remember the notes on Miya.
Komori sighed, as he found what he was looking for, “yeah, here it is, wow, Kiyoomi, you really fucked up this time…”
Sakusa sighed and pulled Komori’s arm over so he could read the news article from thirteen years ago.
Tragedy strikes on country road, newlyweds killed in drunk driver hit and run.
The more Sakusa read, the more he felt sick. He ran towards the bathroom and heaved until there was nothing left, then lay on the floor in a ball and whimpered. How was he meant to know? Atsumu’s twin brother and new husband had been killed in a car accident, leaving their one year old son. Atsumu had quit his professional volleyball career in order to raise the kid... and seemingly now works in a bar to pay the bills. And Sakusa had said so many mean things…