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Kiyoomi is a loner; by nature or by choice he’s not exactly sure. What he does know is that it’s not easy for him to make friends. Come to think of it, Kiyoomi isn’t really close to his family either—with the exception of his cousin Motoya. Though ever since they went their separate ways after college, Kiyoomi’s ‘out of sight, out of mind’ personality hinders him from calling or texting more often. So he continues to go about his days, not feeling as though he’s missing out on anything.
One day, Kiyoomi’s apartment floods. It’s an inconvenience, sure, but he has renter’s insurance and was able to salvage most of his things. He uses money from the insurance claim to book a hotel room while the apartment is being renovated.
The following day, Kiyoomi leaves a little earlier than usual for morning practice; his refuge only a few miles further than his apartment from the MSBY practice facility. What he didn’t account for was the backed-up traffic lining the streets, ending at a primary school just up the road. He makes a quick phone call to let Coach Foster know of the miscalculation. No harm, no foul.
When he arrives at the gym, the Jackals are already working on serving drills. He sneaks in a does his stretches, properly warming up his body before he joins the rest of the group. After a grueling practice ends, they retreat to the locker room, a strong palm pressing against Kiyoomi’s back. “Hey hey hey, Omi-Omi!” Bokuto greets warmly. “What happened to you today?”
Kiyoomi doesn’t usually like it when others ask about his personal life. He hasn’t psychoanalyzed it too much, but he figures it has something to do with the fact that he doesn’t like to be judged. But Bokuto has never made him feel inferior, so he doesn't seem to mind the intrusion. “My apartment flooded, so I’m staying at a hotel up the road,” he answers honestly. “I got caught in traffic due an error in judgement. It won't happen again, though.”
An arm curls around Bokuto’s shoulders as the blonde butts in, “Did hear ya say that yer stayin’ in a hotel, Omi-kun?”
Kiyoomi’s skin tingles at the sound of Atsumu’s molasses accent, he really could listen to him talk all day. “Yes, I was just telling Bokuto that my apartment flooded,” he responds to the setter.
“That’s ridiculous!” a voice calls from the lockers, and a spritely ginger joins the gangly group. “You should just stay with us, Omi-san. Right, guys?” Hinata shoots a hopeful glance over at the other two men. Bokuto has stars in his eyes as Atsumu gives a shrug of approval, “I don’t see why not," the blonde turns back to Kiyoomi. “Whaddya say, Omi-Omi?”
In all of Kiyoomi’s adult life, he’s never lived with another person. For someone that values their time, space, and privacy, the idea of a roommate always seemed too complicated. His initial reaction is to turn down the offer, but Hinata must have anticipated that as he blurts out “Please, Omi-san! You won’t even know we’re there.” Kiyoomi finds that hard to believe, but damn it’s difficult to deny the warmth of that beaming smile. It’s no wonder the beefy shrimp has the entirety of the volleyball world eating out of the palm of his hands. “Okay,” he reluctantly accepts.
Moving all of your belongings is 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 easier when you have four times the muscle. “Where should I put my things?” Kiyoomi asks the energetic owl, box in hand.
“Oh! Your room is just down the hall, to your right,” he responds.
Kiyoomi is taken aback when he enters the bedroom—were all the rooms this big? He rests the box on the sizable king-size bed before wandering towards the closet (a walk-in, by the way) which was completely empty. On the other side of the closet is a second door, which Kiyoomi opens to find a beautiful ensuite. Kiyoomi’s heart tugs as he comes to realize the true weight of his teammates’ gesture.
“Omi-kun!” molasses calls from the other side of the closet. “Where do ya want this one?”
Kiyoomi steps back into the bedroom, finding Atsumu with a box of clothes. “The closet is fine,” he responds, not noticing the small tilt forming at the corner of the other's lip. Atsumu carefully places the box on the floor, clapping the dust off of his hands as he turns to leave. “Wait!” Kiyoomi calls out to the blonde. “How many bedrooms are in this house?”
Atsumu’s expression is soft as he answers, “Three.”
“And how many bathrooms?”
“Also three.”
“So whose room is this?”
Atsumu raises a confused eyebrow, “It’s yers, silly.”
“I know that but—”
The next moment, Hinata and Bokuto emerge in the room with more of Kiyoomi’s belongings. “This one’s kinda light,” Hinata says, referring to the box labeled ‘memorabilia’. “Where would you like it, Omi-san?”
“Hmm, the dresser will do. Thank you, Hinata.”
“This is a mighty fine suit you have here, Omi Omi,” Bokuto presses the garment against his body and spins around. “I’ll put it in the closet for you.”
“Thank you, Bokuto.”
The men make quick work of the move, and before long Kiyoomi settles into his new living arrangement. His teammates are surprisingly considerate; always inviting him to join in their escapades and ever understanding when he turns them down (though he really enjoys movie night).
When Kiyoomi gets the call that it’s time to move back into his apartment, his stomach drops. These last few months with his friends have been some of the best he’s ever had, but it’s time for him to give Atsumu his room back. After all, this was always supposed to be temporary.
“Whaddya mean yer moving out?” Atsumu asks the raven with a dumbfound expression.
Bokuto rounds the corner of the living room, his ear seemingly growing larger as he overhears the conversation. “What???” he cries. “You can’t move out, Omi Omi!”
Hinata sprints from his bedroom to join into the conversation. “Do you not like us anymore, Omi-san?” he asks with big, tear-filled eyes.
“You all have been great. I really appreciate you opening your home to me, but I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Kiyoomi replies to their questions and pleas. “Plus, my apartment is ready for me to move back in. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Uh, no.” Atsumu shortly responds. “Who else is gonna distract Bokkun fer me when we’re playin’ Smash Bros?”
Hinata chimes in, “Everyone knows that four is the perfect number of people for board games, Omi-san. It’d be so lame without you.”
“That settles it!” Bokuto beams. “It’s three against one. You’re not going anywhere.”
“But—” Kiyoomi starts, inevitably interrupted by all three of his bumbling teammates, who were simply not going to take no for an answer.
So Kiyoomi makes arrangements with his landlord, subleasing his apartment in order to stay where he truly belongs—at home with his new family.