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It’s been 3 weeks since Kiyoomi last saw the beautiful blonde that he met at all-Japan, and while they didn’t interact much outside of practice—mostly because Kiyoomi was too chicken to make a move—Miya Atsumu still managed to weasel his way into Kiyoomi’s heart.
Today marks the opening ceremonies of Kiyoomi’s first spring nationals. His eyes roam the venue in anticipation as he walks alongside his team, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy who’s occupied his dreams every night for almost a month.
“You alright there, Kiyoomi?” Motoya asks, noting Kiyoomi’s shifty demeanor. “You look like you’re trying to smuggle drugs or something. Unsuccessfully, might I add.”
“I’m fine," Kiyoomi answers unconvincingly. “Hey, do you remember the guy I told you about?”
“The one you met at youth camp?”
“Yeah. His name’s Miya, and he’s a first year at Inarizaki. I’m pretty sure they made it here, too.” More than pretty sure, actually, since Kiyoomi had memorized the entire bracket.
Then, a familiar face cut through the sea of people, stopping Kiyoomi dead in his tracks. “Toya, look. That’s him.” Kiyoomi points the boy out to his cousin, but something was a bit off. “At least I think it is. His hair is different.” He squints in an effort to see things clearer. “I’d never forget that gorgeous face, though. Yeah, it’s definitely him.”
“Then why don’t you go talk to him?” Motoya brightly replies.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t…” Kiyoomi says bashfully, tilting his head towards the ground.
Motoya dips down to make eye contact with his cowardly cousin. “C’mon. Just go say hey. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“No.” Kiyoomi responds sternly, but Motoya isn’t having it.
“What did you say his name was again? Miya?”
“Toya, I swear to-“
“HEY MIYA!” Motoya practically screams and waves both of his arms like he’s fucking drowning, and Kiyoomi’s going to make him wish that he was (at least then he’d have a chance of being saved). The gray-haired boy turns and gives one flick of the wrist in an attempt to wave, and Kiyoomi can’t help but notice the look on his face. He seems…confused. Or aggravated? Whatever it is, he definitely isn’t excited.
Oh yeah, Motoya is dead meat.
Kiyoomi’s cousin grab at his bicep and drags him over. “Hi! I’m Motoya”, he greets as he reaches out a hand to which the other boy hesitantly shakes. “And I’m sure you remember my cousin, Kiyoomi.”
Kiyoomi waves sheepishly as his cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. Thankfully his signature mask covers the evidence, the other party being none the wiser. He’s grateful for that; the exchange is embarrassing enough even without the boy seeing how flustered he is right now.
“Samu, let’s gooooo!” A voice calls from the distance. Samu? Could that be Miya’s nickname?
“Sorry, gotta go. It was nice to meet you.” He bows in apology and rushes off.
Moyota jabs Kiyoomi in the side with his elbow. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“You’re dead to me.”
Kiyoomi still can't shake the feeling that something was off during their exchange with Atsumu. The boy he remembered was bright and bubbly in an annoying (but endearing) sort of way. Maybe he doesn’t like his new hair style? Kiyoomi thinks it's a bit shallow but also can’t help but agree with the sentiment. Blonde does suit him better.
“Sakusa, Komori!” a voice calls from the group of bright yellow and green track suits. “Let’s line up for the ceremony.”
"Sir!" the boys respond in unison as they return to the group.
“Samu, let’s gooooo!”
“Sorry, gotta go. It was nice to meet you.” The grey-haired boy rushes off and meets up with his blonde twin.
“I just met yer boyfriend.” Osamu deadpans and Atsumu’s eyes widen.
“WHAT? Ya met Kiyoomi?” The initial shock transforming into curiosity. “Did he say anythin’ about me?”
“No.” Atsumu immediately pouts and Osamu finishes, “I'm pretty sure he thought I was you.”
“What??? But we don’t look nothin’ alike!”
Osamu starts to believe that identical twins couldn’t possibly share the same DNA because he clearly got all the brains when the egg split. “We’re literally twins, dipshit.”
“Yeah but,” too flabbergasted to piece together a full sentence, Atsumu motions his hand between the two of them, yelling, “THE HAIR!”
“He probably thinks ya just dyed it.” Osamu tries to rationalize with his unraveling brother. “Most people don’t have another person walkin’ around with the same face, ya know.”
Atsumu huffs out a deep sigh. “I guess yer right.” He still looks defeated as he says, “I just expected my soulmate to know better.”
“How can ya know he’s yer soulmate if yer too chicken shit to even talk to the guy?” Osamu jabs, provoking another irritated look from his brother.
“Me? Chicken shit? Please," he scoffs sarcastically.
“Oh, Kiyooooomi!” Osamu yells to no one and Atsumu instinctively hides behind his brother. The grey-haired boy smirks and teases, “Chicken shit.”
“Oh, fuck off!” Atsumu pushes off his brother's shoulder. “Whatever. I still think it’s shitty that he thought you were me. Why don’t ya say we have a little fun?”
Osamu’s usually dim expression brightens and the kid in him escapes. “Whaddya have in mind?”
Atsumu clears his throat. “Ahem…Hey, Coach? ’m not feelin’ so hot. Can I go back to the hotel?” He coughs a few times for good measure.
“The ceremony’s about to start, Atsumu.” Coach Kurosu says as he glances shiftily at his star setter. “Please tell me you’re not getting sick.”
Atsumu dials it back. “‘m just a bit under the weather. ‘m sure I’ll be fine with a little rest.”
“I can walk him back, coach.”
The older man looks skepticallly at his first-year middle blocker before letting out a reluctant sigh. “Fine...Suna, please take Atsumu back to the hotel and make sure he gets plenty of fluids. We’ll be back later this evening.”
Atsumu and Suna begin the short walk back to the team’s hotel. “So you need me to do what now?” Suna asks the blonde.
“I need ya to use yer FBI stalker skills to find out where Itachiyama is stayin’ this week.”
“So you can prank your husband," he deadpans.
“My soulmate,” Atsumu corrects.
“Same thing. And why would you want to prank your ‘soulmate’?” he asks, using air quotes around the term.
“Duh! I gotta put ‘im through the ringer fer thinkin’ Samu was me!”
“Sure, makes perfect sense,” Suna draws sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. “So what’s the plan, then? Are you gonna have Osamu toy with the poor boy’s heart?”
“What? No!” Atsumu protests. “Honestly, I’m kinda hopin’ this’ll be a good ice breaker, on account of me bein’ scared shitless anytime I try to talk to the guy.”
“You? Afraid to talk to someone?” Suna scoffs. “Damn. He must really be something.”
“He’s amazin’, Rin. And sooooo pretty,” Atsumu gushes. “I’d show ya, but I can’t find him anywhere on social media.”
“Let me try. What’s his name?”
“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
Suna lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “Sexy name.”
“I know, right?!” Atsumu says proudly, as if he was the one that named the guy.
Suna spends the next several minutes searching the depths of the internet. “You were right. Dude’s completely off the grid.” Atsumu throws his head back in a tantrum. “Now hang on, Romeo, I’m not finished. When I googled him, I found an obituary for his maternal grandfather.” Atsumu’s eyes begin to gloss over as Suna continues to report his findings. “There were a few siblings among the list of survivors. I tried looking them up also, to no avail. The Sakusas must not believe in technology," he adds, seemingly annoyed. “However, I did find something on the grandfather’s other daughter’s son.”
“Grandfather’s huh?” the setter’s eyebrows knit in confusion.
“His cousin, Atsumu.”
“Oh.” Atsumu nods. “Go on.”
“His name is Komori Motoya. Coincidentally he’s Itachiyama’s libero.”
Atsumu’s ears perk up at the news. “Samu did mention somethin’ about a cousin earlier.”
“Mmhmm…” Suna ignores the comment and continues to scrolling though his phone before he suddenly stops. “Bingo.”
“Bingo?”
He turns his phone towards the other boy, showing a photo of Motoya giving a peace sign and Kiyoomi with his hands in his pockets. “They’re staying at the Sunshine Inn, two blocks down.”
Atsumu’s eyes widen with amazement. “Yer a wizard, Rin. And I’m gonna need ya to link me that profile.”
“You got it, boss,” Suna agrees, typing up a text and sending it over. “So back to the plan.”
“We need to get our hands on some spray-on hair color.”
“Please welcome Tokyo’s first representative and this year’s number one seed, Itachiyama Institute!” The team is the first to enter the venue, met with thousands of people cheering.
Kiyoomi leans over to Motoya. “This is intense.”
“Isn’t it great?” the starry-eyed libero replies. “I guess that’s one of the perks of being the host city, right?”
Kiyoomi hunches his shoulders, “Actually, I don’t much care for all the noise.”
The team lines up and waves to the crowd. Kiyoomi wonders how the other teams will be lined up as he anxiously awaits the next announcement. Will the next be another Tokyo rep or…
“And the second seed is the Hyōgo prefecture champion, Inarizaki High!”
Kiyoomi’s heart skips a beat as his eyes aimlessly scour the entrance for a peek at the next group. He briefly forgets that he’s not searching for blonde locks when he spots the gray-haired boy, his brows furrowing once again. What happened to Atsumu these last 3 weeks? Why does he look so damn depressed?
Maybe he’s nervous, Kiyoomi thinks. It wouldn’t be his first big tournament, but some people never get over pre-game anxiety, no matter how many times they play the game.
As he’s trying to determine the cause of Atsumu’s strange behavior, the other boy glances over and Kiyoomi snaps his head back towards the front. The raven shifts his eyes, straining them into the corners, just enough to barely see the frantic waving in his peripheral. He turns back to see Atsumu smiling awkwardly and flailing his arms, seemingly attempting to get Kiyoomi’s attention.
He points to himself as if to say “me?” to which the other nods. Kiyoomi smiles (though a bit fruitless with the mask and all) and offers a small wave. Atsumu shoots a thumbs up and mouths something that looks like “good luck”. Kiyoomi’s entire body flushes as he returns the simple hand gesture.
Motoya elbows his cousin teasingly. “What was that all about, hmm?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he says, unconvincingly.
>>> he really is quite cute, tsumu.
“What the hell?” Atsumu reads the text aloud as Suna sprays another coat of temporary hair-color. “Samu better not be gettin’ any ideas.”
“Please.” Suna dismisses the accusation. “You know he’d never do something like that.”
“Yeah, yer right.” The now grey-haired boy breaths a sigh of relief, looking back into the mirror. “Hey! Not bad, Rin. Maybe ya missed yer calling.”
“As much as I like to gossip, I think I’ll stick with volleyball,” Suna jests. He scrunches his face and lifts an eyebrow. “Something’s still not right…”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls through the photo album. “Uh, ya sure do have a lot of pictures of my brother, Rin.”
“He’s my best friend, of course I have pictures of him.” Suna responds, completely unphased. “Ah, that’s it.” He grabs a comb and parts Atsumu’s hair to the opposite side.
“Holy shit.” Atsumu’s eyes widen. “I look just like Samu!”
“Well, you are twins, idiot.” He says, voice a bit shaky.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
Suna shakes his head, reminded that the boy in front of him is most definitely not Osamu. He treats the question as hypothetical and moves on. “So what now?”
“We wait at the Sunshine Inn, of course!”
“You know, we probably could have just used ball caps instead.” Suna states out-of-the-blue as he continues to stare down at his phone. He and Atsumu have been sitting on the bench outside the konbini next to the Sunshine Inn awaiting Itachiyama’s arrival for about an hour. It’s dark now, the sun setting at some point during that time.
Atsumu dawns an astonished look. “Ya couldn’t’ve thoughta that sooner?”
“Hey, don’t look at me. This whole plan is whack-a-doodle if you ask me.”
“Lucky fer you, no one asked.” Atsumu quips before catching a glimpse of neon walking in their direction. “Shit, there they are!”
“Go get em, tiger.” Suna pushes the setter, positioning his phone to capture the moment, but not before he sends a quick text to Osamu, dropping a pin of his location.
>>> head this way when you can.
>>> roger. be there in 10.
The amateur videographer sneaks behind a nearby bush in an attempt to better catalog the impending interaction.
Atsumu begins a light jog with his headphones in as he passes by the Itachiyama team. He purposefully makes eye contact with Kiyoomi, pulls out an earbud and jogs in place. “Hiya, Omi!” He greets brightly, and though he hadn’t actually been jogging very long, seeing Kiyoomi up close again does take his breath away. “Fancy meetin’ you here!”
Kiyoomi stops and waves Motoya on. “Hello, Miya.” He says, looking confused. “Didn’t I just see you with your team at a hotel up the street?”
Jackpot
“Hmm, no I don’t think so. I’ve been jogging for at least the last 30 minutes or so.”
Kiyoomi knits his eyebrows together, opens his mouth to speak but promptly closes it again and shakes his head. “I guess I was mistaken, then.”
“Yep. Well, it was good to see ya! Gotta run!” Atsumu dashes away.
Approaching from the opposite direction is Osamu, who joins Suna behind the bush. “What did I miss?”
“Not much. Atsumu just made first contact.” Suna replies. He gives his best friend a quick once-over. “I hope we can get this over with soon so your brother can wash that shit out of his hair.”
“Why’s that? Dontcha think it looks good?”
“Maybe it looks a little too good.”
“What’s that supposed to—“ and Osamu is quickly cut off by Suna punching his bicep. “Ow! The fuck was that for?”
Suna points to the very reason they’re gathered so closely behind the bush in the first place. “He’s going inside. Now’s your chance.”
“Right.” Osamu shoots up from behind the bush and begins walking in the direction of the inn. Unfortunately, the target doesn’t seem to see him as he pulls a hankerchief from his pocket and reaches for the front door.
“Achooooo!”
Suna can’t help but let out a stifled laugh at the world’s worst fake sneeze. It seems to have worked though as the raven turns around, making forceable eye contact with the unknown twin.
“Miya?”
Osamu delights in the utter confusion on the other boy’s face. It’s been while since they’d played the oldest trick in the book, and he has to admit that he’s missed it. “Hey, Kiyoomi. What are you doin’ here?”
“What am I…what are you…what?” The poor, tortured soul stammers. “Am I missing something here?”
“Whatever do ya mean?”
Meanwhile, Atsumu takes a shortcut and circles back to the bush where Suna is hiding. The streetlights are hitting Kiyoomi’s face just right, highlighting the horror on his face. “This is fuckin’ gold.”
“You two are ruthless. Here, hold this and don’t stop filming.” Suna hands his phone to Atsumu. “Now give me your phone. I’ll text when I have more info.” Atsumu agrees and Suna retreats from the hiding spot, waltzing towards the hotel entrance.
He approaches the front desk and is met with a young, doe-eyed girl. She looks to be no more than 18, probably working part-time to pay her way through college. This should be a piece of cake. “Good evening,” his narrowing eyes shift down to the girl’s name tag. “Yuki.”
“Good evening, sir! What can I do for you?” The spritely girl asks.
“My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi. I’ve lost the key card for my room. Would you be so kind as to give me another one?” Suna knows this is a long shot, especially when the girl replies “Of course, sir! I’ll just need to see your ID.”
Suna pats his body for something that he knows isn’t there. “Ah. You see, my wallet is in the room. But I understand, rules are rules. My cousin should still be in there, but I seemed to have forgotten the room number. Can you at least help me with that?”
“Of course, sir! Your room number is 426.”
Suna bows his head in appreciation. “Thank you, Yuki.” He promptly whips out Atsumu’s phone to text his own.
>>> room number 426. there’s a back entrance that’s key card only. come this way when sakusa goes inside and i’ll let you both in.
>>> 👍🏻
Kiyoomi was absolutely certain that Miya Atsumu just spoke to him while he was on his jog. In fact, it’s the most sure that he’s been all day that that was Miya Atsumu. The liveliness and spunk that had been missing from their previous interactions radiated ten fold, which is probably why he was so willing to believe the boy instead of his own eyes when he said he couldn’t possibly have spotted him outside of their hotel. So what the actual fuck is happening right now?
“Am I missing something here?” He asks, begging for any sliver of a clue.
“Whatever do ya mean?” The boy responds cheekily.
At this point, Kiyoomi concedes to the fact that Atsumu is playing a rotten trick, though the reason why is beyond him. “I’m not stupid, Miya. I’m just not sure what I did to deserve…whatever this is.”
He throws both hands behind that stupid gray head and replies, “Sorry, Omi. I dunno what yer talkin’ about.”
“I don’t have time for this,” he harshly replies, walking towards the hotel door. “Good luck in the tournament.”
“Night, Omi-kun.”
>>>the raven has entered the building.
The twins hustle to the backside of the hotel, where Suna is waiting to let them in. “How’d it go?” Atsumu curiously asks his brother.
“Ya picked a smart one. He definitely knows somethin’s up. But I think we’ll really spook ‘im with our last trick.”
“Here’s to hopin’ he has a sense of humor.” Atsumu chuckles nervously.
Suna interjects, “Hey, if it’s meant to be, he’ll love you in spite of all this, right? Now, let’s go. We don’t have much time.” He pokes his head out to see if the coast is clear when he catches sight of Sakusa waiting for the elevator. “Follow closely behind me. We’ll take the stairs.”
The three manage to successfully sneak around the corner without being seen and make the trek to the fourth floor. When they arrive, Suna quickly scouts the area. He notices the elevator has only just made it to the first floor, which buys them about a minute.
“I found 426!” Atsumu shouts from down the hall.
“Perfect.” Suna replies. “Now, both of you, go stand at the end of the hallway.”
Suna presses record on his phone and strategically places it in a decorative plant with the lens facing the twins before rushing back to the stairwell. Moments later, Kiyoomi emerges from the elevator and fumbles through his wallet for the key card to his room. He’s still trying to shake off the interaction(s?) he had with Atsumu when he turns the corner, only to be met with not one, but two Miyas.
It was at 6:02pm on January 6th, 2012, when Sakusa Kiyoomi lost his marbles.
The amount of both coherent and incoherent thoughts that crossed Kiyoomi’s mind in the span of just a few seconds was beyond belief. None of this makes any sense.
“Come play with us, Omi.” Sinister voices speak in unison.
No, nope, absolutely the fuck not. Kiyoomi panics as he pivots towards the room, eyes darting back and forth between the twins and the door handle while his hand frantically shakes. He unsuccessfully swipes the card a few times muttering “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” when it finally flashes green and unlocks. He slams the door, placing his back and hands flat against it. He takes in more air than his lungs with allow and forces it out.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Motoya asks his seemingly psychotic cousin, whose panting rivals that of a rabbid dog.
“TWO MIYAS.” he blurts out between breaths.
“What?”
Kiyoomi takes another deep breath. “TOYA, I’M LIVING IN A STEPHEN KING FILM.” He cries in a frenzy.
“Geez, calm down.” Motoya grabs Kiyoomi by the shoulders and directs him over to the bed. “Tell me what happened.”
Kiyoomi sits at the edge, staring blankly into space. “They’re in the hallway.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“The Miyas Atsumu.”
“Kiyoomi, what the hell are you talking about?” Motoya says as he walks towards the door.
“No, don’t go out there!” Kiyoomi yells in a panic.
“It’ll be fine. I promise.” He pokes his head out the door and looks both ways before returning to his cousin’s side. “There’s no one out there, Kiyoomi.”
Kiyoomi shakes his head, blinking his eyes as if he just awoke from a crazy dream. “No one? Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Absolutely positive?”
“C’mon, Kiyoomi. I know you like the guy, but hallucinating two of him? That’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to!”
Motoya’s phone pings and he motions to pick it up. It’s an instagram notification that reads ‘New message request from Suna Rintarou’. He clicks the request, which just says ‘send any therapy invoices to the miyas’, and has a video attached. Motoya thumbs through the video, catching the gist of the contents. He rewinds it back to the beginning and says, “I’m gonna go grab a soda. You want anything?”
“Don’t leave me alone, Toya!”
He hands the phone to his cousin. “Here, watch this.” Kiyoomi hesitantly slides the device out of his cousin’s hand, who then takes his leave.
Kiyoomi tries to organize his jumbled feelings as he watches himself get duped by the two (different) boys. He’s still confused about the fact that he seems to live in a world where multiple Miyas exist, but relieved to know that he’s not actually in any immediate danger. But he’s also kinda pissed because what the hell?
At the end of the video, Suna appears on screen to ‘introduce’ the leading cast and the puzzle pieces finally start falling into place. So Atsumu is a twin, and the gray-haired boy that Kiyoomi originally met is Miya Osamu. Makes sense…-ish.
While Kiyoomi still has Motoya’s phone, a follow-up message from Suna appears on the screen. ‘Here’s Atsumu’s number. Do with it what you will.’
Kiyoomi grabs his own phone and saves the number. He fiddles with his thumbs as he tries to determine if and what he should send.
To: Thing 1
>>> You better be glad I’m not the type to retaliate.
From: Thing 1
>>> so yer not mad?
To: Thing 1
>>> I never said that.
From: Thing 1
>>> what if I made it up to ya?
To: Thing 1
>>> Made it up how?
From: Thing 1
>>> by takin ya to lunch tomorrow
Kiyoomi decides that his poor heart has been through enough, choosing not to take any chances misconstruing the situation.
To: Thing 1
>>> Are you (Miya Atsumu) asking me (Sakusa Kiyoomi) on a date?
From: Thing 1
>>> only if the answer is yes
He lets his heart flutter this time, smiling at the words on the screen.
To: Thing 1
>>> Pick me up at 12? Sans gray hair, please.
From: Thing 1
>>> it’s a date.