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It’s the first day of the All-Japan youth camp and Atsumu is antsy. And it’s not because he’ll be training with some of the most talented players in the country in front of the most important people in the game. These are just simple facts waiting to be transformed into opportunities. So no, he’s not nervous about his performance, thankyouverymuch. After all, this isn’t his first rodeo, having been invited to the exclusive camp last year as well.
So why is he so jittery, you ask? Well, you see, a certain curly-haired raven should be arriving at any moment, and Atsumu really wants to make a good impression.
Right on cue, the facility doors open, and a slender boy with twin moles enters the building. He dawns a medical mask and lidded eyes, slightly hunched as he makes his approach. He’s wearing the most god-awful neon tracksuit, but the contrast of the bright colors compared to his jet black hair isn’t so bad, Atsumu thinks to himself.
At last year’s camp, Atsumu was so enamored by the beauty of the boy that he barely spoke two words to him. But this year? With his fresh dye job and winning personality, Atsumu’s sure to win Sakusa Kiyoomi over.
‘Hi, Kiyoomi!’ he practiced in the mirror about a million times, but when the moment finally comes the words “Hiyo, Omiki!” stumble out.
“Excuse me?” the other boy raises a suspicious eyebrow at the jumbled greeting.
“Ahem—“ Atsumu clears his dry throat. “I said ‘Hiya, Omi-kun!’” he recovers. Phew, that was a close one.
“Riiight,” Kiyoomi draws out sarcastically. “You’re Miya, correct?”
Atsumu beams as the other boy remembers his name. “Yep! Can’t wait to set ya some good ones,” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “I figured ya’d be here this week so I actually brought a little somethin’ for ya.”
The tone of the taller boy changes and the tips of his ears turn pink. “For me?” he asks timidly.
Atsumu pulls out a black cloth mask with a repeating pattern of a white weasel lining the fabric. “Yeah! I saw this and it reminded me of you,” he says nervously as he displays the accessory, fingers stretching through the earloops.
Kiyoomi’s eyes widen at the gesture, and Atsumu has a hard time decoding the expression. That is until the other boy bursts into laughter. Atsumu’s not sure what’s funny—in fact, he’s pretty certain he should be insulted by the sudden outburst. But he can hardly be upset as the most angelic sound graces his ears.
Atsumu’s mouth tilts up in a goofy grin as the raven finally contains himself. “I’m sorry, Miya,” the boy apologizes. “It’s just that I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like that in public.”
“Not much of an apology, but whatever floats yer boat.” Atsumu shrugs as he starts to put the mask back into his pocket.
“No, wait!” Kiyoomi hurriedly reaches out a hand. “Can I still have the mask?” he asks bashfully.
Atsumu grins from ear to ear. “Sure, Omi Omi,” he says, handing the gift to the boy. “I hope ya like it.”
5 days pass, and Atsumu is overjoyed as he leaves camp with a fulfilling sense of accomplishment…and Kiyoomi’s number.