Archive of Our Own

I’m gonna be setting to you one day.

It all started with this simple sentence. Miya Atsumu was sincere when he proudly declared to the world he was gonna be Hinata Shouyou’s setter. He stood fiercely on the court with a proclamation of war and the undeserved ego of a vanquished prince, and swore to himself that any time soon he’d have Shouyou both groveling under his foot and excited to experience the pure bliss of a certified Miya toss.

What he didn’t anticipate, though, was the crippling obsession that would follow him everywhere, everyday, creeping up in the shadows since that dreadful encounter at the Tokyo Spring Tournament. It was barely conscious, at first - insidious thoughts of Shouyou spreading their warm tendrils all over his psyche, slipping through the cracks of his daily routine, filling everything up with the golden shine of kintsugi.

What is Shouyou doing right now ? He surprises himself with daydreamings of orange hair and godly jumps instead of paying attention to his math teacher - gaze forlorn upon the towering Himeji Castle he could see far, far away in the distance from the bay window of his classroom.

Is Shouyou eating yakiniku, too ? He ponders upon, sitting next to his brother in an uncharacteristic silent fashion, staring at his empty plate while Osamu slams his fifth serving of pork belly right into his gaping mouth.

Would Shouyou like this toss ? He thinks as he sets to his brother purely on reflex and gets yelled at for tossing the ball too low.

He’s wiping his brow and taking a swing at his bottle of water when Osamu joins him on the floor, chewing on a protein bar - he has this silent look on his face only Atsumu gets to interpret, privilege of being a twin, and all that. They’ve been connected since birth, after all.

“ I was thinking of Shrimpy, “ Atsumu states, gazing into the distance where phantom images of an orange jersey with the number ten haunt him, sometimes a little too vividly.

Osamu is looking at him with questions burned into his eyes, and to anyone else Miya Osamu would look the same ; calm, collected, distant like the peak of a cold mountain. Atsumu can tell from a mile away.

“ Do you think he’s practicing right now ? “ It gnaws at Atsumu, rotten meat embracing blanched bones.

Osamu only shrugs ; he shoves half of the protein bar into his mouth, barely chews, swallows it in one go. Atsumu doesn’t even flinch - he had many quirks. Osamu had his own.

“ Probably. We are. “ Osamu shrugs, frowns ever so slightly, because they might be in sync on the court, but outside of it, there’s the odd time Atsumu’s brain could be a real mystery wrapped in an enigma. “ Why do you care ? “

It’s almost rude, but Atsumu doesn’t mind ; his brother isn’t trying to pick a fight with him (at least not at the moment). He’s trying to figure out what has Atsumu worked up over his tosses, because Osamu likes to hit easy spikes, and Atsumu is supposed to deliver them right into the palm of his hand.

“ I don’t know, “ Atsumu laments, and he lets himself fall to the ground, spreads his arms and legs all over the wooden floor, the picture perfect representation of a snow angel. The fluorescents hit him right in the eyes, and he squints, but he lets the blinding halo scorch his retinas ; it centers him in a really weird way. “ I wish I was tossing to him right now. “

He hears Osamu snort beside him, and his brother lays right next to him as well.

“ Are you in love with him, or something ? “

Osamu is so casual about it - it’s probably meant as a joke. But Atsumu feels his entire body stiffen, and there’s a loud thud taking a menacing hold upon his ribcage that wasn’t there before. He feels stuck to the ground, his limbs heavy and useless - Osamu even waves a hand in front of his eyes, tries to snap him out of whatever spell is currently possessing his being.

It doesn’t work.

Am I in love with Shrimpy ?

It’s a simple question. Saying it out loud in his mind, Atsumu finds out that the answer comes to him as easily as tossing.

“ Uh. I guess I am. “

Atsumu starts laughing out loud, and he gets up as if to take a hold of his forehead into the palm of his hand - because this is completely ridiculous.

Osamu gently scoffs at him from the side.

__________________________

Osamu’s question breaks apart the floodgates of his single-minded brain, and it’s all Atsumu can think about for weeks. Being in love with Hinata Shouyou. He always thought of love as a fleeting concept, and it pissed him off most of the time since complicated things annoyed him to no end. Volleyball was simple to him ; it followed a strict set of rules. Master those rules, and then the fun starts.

People were complicated, period, because there were no rules. At least none that Atsumu understood properly. He was rude, self-centered, a certified jackass - he put expectations on most people no one expected back and that alone was enough to discourage him from trying anything with anyone. He had Osamu, who pissed him off too but for entirely different reasons, and he had his teammates. He had volleyball.

Now, he has Hinata Shouyou as well to worry about.

He forces Osamu to watch every single Meg Ryan movie he can find, because according to the internet that’s what real romance is about. They start in reverse chronological order, which is probably a mistake - it takes a while for Atsumu to understand what people see in these movies. Something clicks mid-way through When Harry Met Sally, and it’s the ending that finally gets him : Harry declares “ When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible, “ and Sally replies by saying he makes it hard for her to hate him. Somehow it all makes sense to Atsumu.

“ ‘Samu, I think I want what they have. “ Atsumu chokes on his snot, he’s been silently crying for the last ten minutes or so.

“ Then get it, “ Osamu answers back, slightly annoyed - he throws the tissue box his way.

Atsumu blows his nose loudly, while Osamu pats him lightly on the shoulder.

Now that he finally grasps what it means to be in love, he makes it his mission to learn everything he can about Shouyou. He gets a good opportunity to do just that when he sees Tobio-kun next, at some Youth Camp for volleyball prodigies - they stopped being special to him a long time ago. Words like prodigies mean nothing to Atsumu ; you’re either good enough to receive his tosses, or you’re not.

Every chance he gets, he asks - while they stretch (Where is your annoying little partner?), on a break at the water fountain (Are you two training together?), in line to get some dinner (What sort of tosses does he like?). Kageyama’s polite mask starts to crack, yet Atsumu is relentless - he asks (Is he gonna be at another training camp?) and he asks (What are the odds of the both of you making it to Nationals?) and on the third day Kageyama has had enough - he actually yells at him.

“ Stop asking me so many questions about that moron ! “

Kageyama’s face is flushed red, his scowl is so angry Atsumu’s actually concerned he’s about to succumb to an aneurysm, with the way a big vein pulses on his stupid forehead, ready to explode.

“ What are you after ? Are you trying to gather some sort of intel ? “

And of course - Tobio-kun would think this is all about volleyball. Kageyama’s singular braincell works overtime as he glares suspiciously at Atsumu from behind the practice ball he’s holding hostage in a death grip.

(To his credit, it sort of is - because volleyball is what connects Atsumu to that little shrimp.)

“ Now, now, that’s for me to know and for you to wonder. “ Atsumu’s smile is smooth but his eyes are sharp ; something something awful personality, according to Osamu.

Kageyama squints, but seems to lower his guard just a little bit. He gets into position to serve.

“ It doesn’t matter. “

His jump is as powerful as ever, and Atsumu almost feels sorry for the wall when the impact of that ball resonates loudly around them in a maddening echo.

Kageyama glares at him again.

“ We’re gonna beat you anyway. “

Atsumu grabs a volleyball, and gets into position as well.

“ Not if I can do something about it, “ he murmurs to himself.

__________________________

I’m gonna be setting to you one day was Atsumu’s promise to Shouyou. He had followed it through with But before that happens, I’m going to crush you at the Inter-High.

The part he never said out loud was the promise he secretly vowed to himself as well. If - no, when - they won against Karasuno, he’d ask Shouyou on a date.

He spends an unhealthy amount of time picturing said date : first they’d hit Ginza and get lunch at that cafe Osamu keeps raving about, and he’d let Shouyou have a bite of his katsudon even if Shouyou didn’t win the game (he’s a nice guy like that). They could shop around for new gear and Atsumu would make sure to compliment Shouyou, telling him he looks good in whatever he feels like trying out. Then, when they’d go watch the sunset from the Tokyo skytree, Atsumu would slide right next to Shouyou, casually slip his arm around his tiny shoulders, and who knows, maybe he would get a kiss. Or to hold hands, at least.

Osamu has to slap him furiously on the back of the head, because Atsumu is vibrating too hard with the anticipation - it makes the bench unstable to sit on. It works surprisingly well at grounding him. Maybe Osamu knew - after all, Atsumu is a simple guy, and thinking about two different things at once (winning the match ; winning Shouyou, too) was asking a lot from him.

We’ve got this in the bag.

Atsumu smiles at their impending victory - but that smile turns to a frown.

Turns out they don’t got this, after all. They’re on their third set, stuck in a brutal deuce threatening to send their scores in the thirties, and Karasuno is at match point. If everyone works overtime to prevent a tragedy, Miya Atsumu works harder - first and foremost, because he’s a sore loser.

But he wants that sweet, sweet date too.

His positioning is perfect ; his shape, top performance. The ball feels great in his hands when he throws that quick to Osamu, and he knows it’s a magical toss, the stuff of legends. It still doesn’t matter, in the end - like it didn’t matter a year ago.

He’s trying to recover from tossing so low when he sees the mocking glare of Tobio, the exhilarated face of Shrimpy rolling in slow motion as he’s a quarter of second too late to return that savage block.

The crowd cheers and boos, a pile of orange boys scream at the top of their lungs, his own team stays awfully silent right next to him.

Atsumu doesn’t move as the horror sets in - he forgets to get back on his feet when the referee’s final whistle echoes sharply in the air.

He lets himself slip into nothingness.

He takes one hell of a long shower. When he gets out, it’s with a towel pathetically falling in front of his eyes, and he peeks at the mirror only to see his reflection staring back like a sad, wet fox.

A beautiful metaphor for the state of his soul.

He starts changing into new clothes, and Osamu snorts behind him. Atsumu throws a vicious glare his way, nostrils flaring up, and is greeted with a cold smirk.

“ Whatever you have to say, just say it ! “

He throws his towel at Osamu for good measure, and his stupid brother dodges effortlessly.

Osamu’s reply comes at him unexpectedly.

“ You look like you just got dumped. “

Atsumu stares at his brother with a twitchy eye and a look on his face that is reminiscent of those childish cartoons, when those thieves freeze in place as the police lights are suddenly upon them.

“ AAaaaaaaahhhhh ?! “ Atsumu yells, before sitting right next to Osamu, and he starts pouting. “ ‘The fuck you even mean ? “

Osamu doesn’t look up from the bento he’s busy destroying with the hunger of an old, forgotten God.

“ You don’t have your usual loser face. I could swear someone just left you at the altar. “

Atsumu averts his eyes ; as always, Osamu reads him like an open book. Osamu is never wrong when it comes to Atsumu - but you won’t catch him ever admitting to that.

“ Well, I did bet something on this match, after all. “

Osamu doesn’t reply, but he’s listening anyway.

“ I was supposed to ask Shrimpy on a date if we won. “

His twin brother actually stops mid-bite to gaze at him - anything enough of a shock to make Osamu forget about eating his meal was probably worth documenting, and Atsumu would whip up his phone to take an embarrassing picture just to bully Osamu, but he was too busy being miserable at the moment.

“ And ? “ a singular word escapes Osamu’s mouth.

“ And what ?! “ Atsumu yells back, having a fit right next to him. He wants to throw hands, only to get rid of the frustration and the ache. “ We didn’t win. “

His pouting intensifies. Osamu squints at him, like Atsumu is some sort of fucked up unicellular being that forgot to evolve along the way - he starts eating again.

“ That’s a stupid reason. “ He chews on some karaage, ignores Atsumu’s scowl trying to bait him into a physical altercation, and gazes at his twin instead with an intense fire in his eyes. “ Volleyball is volleyball. Love is love. They’re simply not the same. “

Atsumu stares back, completely bewildered ; Osamu swallows his karaage, goes for a second chunk.

“ I guess they aren’t. “ He starts chuckling ; his brother annoyed him greatly, most of the time - he annoyed him right now. But if Atsumu was the better player, Osamu had him cornered when it came to mental stability. “ Alright, I’m getting pumped again. “

Atsumu gets up from the bench, almost trips on the towel he threw at Osamu earlier, but he doesn’t care. He’s rummaging through his messy bag and finds a clean shirt - all that’s left is that goofy Doraemon tee he carries around in tournaments for good luck, and it’s just perfect.

When he turns back to stare at Osamu proudly, his brother gives him a little thumbs up.

“ Go find that shrimp. “

Atsumu is gone by the time Osamu swallows that second bite.

He’s been running around Tokyo Dome like a man possessed for the past fifteen minutes, trampling everyone in his path and being a public menace to volleyball players and staff alike. He doesn’t stay long enough in one place for security to do anything about the general havoc he’s causing, and Atsumu has bad tunnel vision anyway - the desperation is slowly sinking in.

Atsumu has seen all of the uniforms : blues, purples, blacks, whites, greens, yellows, reds. Not a single orange jersey on sight. He wonders if Karasuno’s team is actually a fever dream he imagined, because his personal demons weren’t enough already and he’s a bit of a sadist ; if he’s finally gone mad from the deep loneliness set into the hollow of his bones, that shameful secret he never admitted to anyone, not even his brother.

He’s tempted to just turn around and run to their hotel room so he can jump from their shared balcony when he slams into someone, as he takes a sharp turn around the corner. The collision is surprisingly painless - the other person a lighter frame than his own. His eyes widen when he finally sees that horrible orange jersey he’s come to despise and love in similar manners, and an equally orange, unruly mop of hair.

Hinata collapses brutally on the floor and starts wailing. Atsumu has to refrain from laughing out loud - out of bliss, ecstasy, reverent love, or whatever. Instead, he extends a sturdy hand to Hinata, accompanied by his best smile.

“ Oh, Miya-san ! “ Shouyou exclaims, still a bit frazzled ; the contact of his soft hand against his calluses as Atsumu lifts him up effortlessly from the ground burns him in a delicious way.

“ Shouyou-kun ! “ Atsumu gleefully retorts, and he pats Hinata on the shoulder like he didn’t just catapult him on the shiny flooring about twenty seconds ago. “ Just the guy I was looking for. “

Hinata looks scared, nothing like when they face each other on the court ; his eyes widen, the corners of his mouth drop low. He seems on the verge of puking, actually, as he lifts his hands in front of him, trying to protect himself from a savage beating.

“ I-I’m sorry we defeated you today, Miya-san ! “ Hinata pleas, and he’s definitely scared, but something in his eyes shines so deep, like he won’t back out either. “ It was nothing personal ! “

It hurts Atsumu’s feelings - everything about this was personal to him.

“ Now, now, let’s not dwell on the past, “ Atsumu ushers casually, waving his hand around dismissively. “ That’s no big deal. “

Which is a blatant lie ; Atsumu is positively pissed that they lost to Karasuno. Again.

Focus, Atsumu. Ground yourself.

“ That’s not why I’m here. “

Shouyou drops his guard a little bit ; his eyes are mostly curious, now. Like a baby bird or something. He looks cute.

“ Why don’t we exchange numbers ? “

Atsumu makes the best effort to appear casual, half-leaning against the wall, one hand arched on his hip. Hinata looks on the verge of passing out, cheeks flushed a crimson red, but his eyes, his damn eyes shine with a brightness that could rival the sun. It fucks with Atsumu’s brain chemistry, and he thinks he might be able to score that date, after all.

“ Woaaaaaaah ?! “ Is all Hinata can muster after a while, and he’s shaking with excitement.

(Damn right - Atsumu doesn’t give his number to a lot of people. To no one, actually.)

“ We should meet up for some practice. I’ll give you some tosses you won’t forget. “

To anyone else, it would seem like a normal conversation one senpai has with their kouhai - but for single-minded volleyball idiots as they were, this was nothing less than flagrant courtship.

“ I would love that, Miya-san ! “ and Hinata is practically drooling at the prospect of getting tosses from such an amazing setter, just like Atsumu is - completely ignoring the fact Hinata’s partner of choice is one Kageyama Tobio.

Tobio-kun doesn’t count.

“ It’s good to foster a friendly spirit between rival teams, after all ! “ Atsumu thanks whatever God is watching over them that Hinata is a bit naive, because anyone that knows Miya Atsumu even just a little bit could detect the bullshit lacing his every word.

Now, to go for the kill, Atsumu thinks as his gaze sharpens akin to a fox preying upon a henhouse.

“ I’ll even treat you to some sushi after, “ and he cages Hinata’s body against the wall, leaning in close so their faces almost touch - he can feel Shouyou’s sharp intake of breath spread all over his skin in a warm embrace. “ So why don’t we make it officially a date ? “

It’s a set, strike, match point. Atsumu’s play is perfect.

Except Shouyou stares at him blankly for five agonizing seconds before he bursts into laughter.

“ Aaaah, Miya-san ! You need to warn me - I didn’t know you were so good at cracking jokes. “ Atsumu’s eye twitches as Hinata holds his stomach, hilarity unfurling from his chubby cheeks. “ I totally thought you were serious for a second ! “

Atsumu opens his mouth - he was being extremely serious right now - but someone else turns the corner, and Atsumu’s mood instantly sours.

Just about the last person he wanted to see.

“ Oi, Hinata-boge ! “ Kageyama Tobio shouts loudly, startling some passerby staff member, and he feels Hinata flinch next to him.

Atsumu propels himself back into a more casual position, Hinata quick to switch from surprise to annoyance as he yells right back at Kageyama.

“ You don’t have to shout ! There’s no one around, even ! I can hear you just fine. “

They both scowl at each other while grinding their teeth, bodies all crisped from the sudden tension around them - If Atsumu had never felt like a third wheel before, he sure was right about now.

It pisses him off to no end.

“ We have to practice your lousy serves, “ Kageyama glares at him some more, before he has the tiny middle blocker in a fierce hold, Hinata flailing his arms around, pouting like a kid.

“ You could try to ask nicely for once in your life, Bakayama ! “ and he’s definitely picking up a fight with his volleyball partner, ignoring his own advice.

Atsumu is jealous of them, for some insane reason. It lights an all-consuming fire in his very soul.

“ See you later, Miya-san ! “ Hinata chirps in his direction, right before Kageyama propels him further away with a kick to the ass.

Atsumu stares at them as they go, and for a second, Kageyama stares back - and it’s like he knows. Like he’s onto Atsumu.

His face contorts into an ugly grin.

Nice move, Tobio-kun.

He’d make sure to get the next one.

Miya Atsumu never loses, after all.

__________________________

Atsumu is nothing if not persistent ; he gets what he wants, eventually.

He ends up practicing with Shouyou, but every time they set up a meeting place and a date, an annoying shadow follows his little shrimp around and flaunts persistence right back at Atsumu’s face.

Kageyama Tobio.

His kouhai likes to pretend it’s just preemptive measures - to make sure Hinata doesn’t spill the beans, make their plays too obvious to the enemy. Atsumu reminds Kageyama that they won’t be facing each other as opposite teams any time soon, since Atsumu is graduating ; Kageyama fiercely ignores him, proclaims them rivals for life. Atsumu understands the faulty logic, somehow.

Except Atsumu knows. He knows that Kageyama Tobio is a selfish king, and more than volleyball matches, it’s his most treasured possession he refuses to relinquish - a perfect partner. The sweet osmosis of a seamless chemical reaction.

So Atsumu bids his time, and tries to get back at Kageyama in any way he can, because he’s a petty asshole.

Let’s ditch the King and go to karaoke, Shouyou-kun !

He’s at his most suave, lets his voice drop an octave or two, smirking at Kageyama from behind Shouyou’s back and slipping into a polite smile when the orange haired boy gazes back at him in confusion.

He makes sure to hit some spikes from his best angle, casually flips his sweat-riddled hair with an expert brush of the hand, even makes his muscles bulge, back against the beautiful sunset filtering through the window, his body framed by a golden halo embracing his hardened curves in a sunmote dress.

(Osamu snickers at him, and it fucks with his self-confidence a little bit, but he perseveres.)

How was that toss ? Better than what you’re used to, I bet.

He doesn’t miss the angry scowl Tobio-kun throws his way, and if Atsumu wasn’t blessed with god-like reflexes and a perfectly honed body he would totally have received Kageyama’s pinpoint precision serve with his face.

It’s a fucked up chess match they’re playing, the both of them, and Hinata is too oblivious to

the situation, simply content in getting to hit amazing spikes from two guys with some sort of personality disorder. Atsumu realizes the boy he likes is dense as a brick ; paired with that feral guard dog that wanted nothing more than to split the flesh of his throat apart with his teeth, he was up for a near-impossible challenge.

But impossible is not in Miya Atsumu’s vocabulary. So he perseveres.

It’s the middle of winter, they’re taking a break from practicing so much. Atsumu’s getting back from fetching two warm cans of coffee at a vending machine nearby, purposefully forgetting he needs one for Tobio-kun as well.

Singing a little victory song to himself, something childish he came up with in seventh grade when they kept losing at tournaments, just to cheer Osamu up, as he’s about to turn around the corner - he hears Shouyou and Tobio bicker, and when he peeks as discreetly as he can manage, he spots them sitting next to each other in the staircase, breaths intertwining in the cold air of February.

They’re almost meshed together, and if it rings an alarm bell inside of Atsumu’s brain, he begrudgingly reminds himself that those two were always close. He takes a sharp intake of breath, visualizes the face of Tobio-kun when Atsumu interrupts their little chit chat to take place right between them, handing some coffee to Shouyou in a bishonen-esque fashion.

He almost faceplants in the snow as he stops abruptly in his steps, because the sharp eyes he spent so many hours training to spot even the tiniest detail on a volleyball court feed him information that makes the bile rise all the way up to his throat ; Tobio-kun and Shrimpy’s fingers interlaced casually on the wooden floor, as well as the faint blush dusting Shouyou’s cheeks. Atsumu would have convinced himself it was simply due to the cold, but Tobio’s gaze is a little too fond for some platonic partnership bullshit they claim is happening between them.

Atsumu’s fingers get burned through his gloves ; he realizes he’s crushing the cans of hot coffee and spilling the boiling liquid everywhere on his hands, his pants, even the floor.

He finds out that he doesn’t care.

Osamu eventually locates him hidden in their shared bedroom, where he’s wasting away on the bottom part of their bunk bed. He’s busy brooding and destroying his third pack of Pockys ; Atsumu doesn’t like food to the same extent of his brother, but apparently people are supposed to eat chocolate, or ice cream, or whatever, when they are going through a breakup.

Which - he isn’t, really. There’s nothing to break up with in the first place.

He also finds out that chocolate doesn’t do shit, not when Tobio and Shouyou’s intertwined hands are all he’s seeing, the image plastered in his mind and reverbated against the ceiling of his brother’s mattress.

Osamu silently sits next to him, and he steals some of his candy. It doesn’t matter - Atsumu never wants to eat Pockys ever again. He ignores his brother, because he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Fortunately for him, Osamu is persistent too, in his own way. He simply waits, waits and waits, and eventually the silence coaxes the words out of Atsumu’s mouth.

“ I got my heart broken today, ‘Samu. “ Admitting it out loud sucks even more. Atsumu hates losing. “ It feels awful. “

Osamu stares at him with calm eyes.

“ Yeah, probably. “

But Osamu being Osamu - his twin brother, the person who understands him more than anyone else in the whole world - he finds the right words, and delivers him the simple truth.

“ I didn’t expect you to give up that easily, though. “

Atsumu is stunned, at first - he blinks once, twice, thrice. Processes what Osamu just told him. His pitiful scowl turns to a grin in an instant, and he starts laughing, an earnest bark that comes from deep within his body.

“ Damn right. I don’t know how to quit. “

So what if Hinata Shouyou was dating Kageyama Tobio ? Would he still be dating him in a week, a month, a year ? None of that mattered to him.

Miya Atsumu never loses.

__________________________

Days turn to months, and months to years ; Atsumu persists.

He sends cheeky emails to Shouyou with empty promises of taking him to the beach or dragging him on a roadtrip across Japan, makes sure to flirtingly joke around - except they’re not jokes - whenever he sees him at volleyball matches, now that Kageyama is preparing to pursue a professional volleyball career, just like himself and their other peers.

Shrimpy is there without a fault, even if it’s just on the cheering benches ; Atsumu knows for a fact he’s still set on playing volleyball, but competing on a professional level is like walking on a rope that someone set on fire, and simply grazing at the top percent without actually making it won’t get you any spot on a team. The logical part of him understands all that ; you could get far ahead in high school with enough stubbornness and the willpower to fight, but being a professional athlete comes with a perfectly honed skill set, and good genetics.

The other part of him thinks it’s bullshit. Thinks they should put Hinata on his team, and Atsumu will make him great, even if he ends up dying in the process. He doesn’t say anything to his own coach, though - because he knows Hinata would never forgive him if he didn’t make it there on his own. Hinata didn’t want any pity ; anything outside of standing up to fight his own battles would be nothing short of a betrayal.

They’re having a joint practice, his team and Tobio’s team ; Kageyama is there without fault. So is Shouyou. It annoys Atsumu, how much they’re joined at the hip. It’s always been like this, ever since the beginning, and if at first Atsumu didn’t get it, now it’s all he thinks about. Him, and Shouyou. Shouyou and him, fused together in a single entity.

Atsumu watches them interact from afar, and to anyone else he’s his normal enthusiastic self, if a little smarmy ; Osamu sees right through him, as usual. He’s throwing amused glances his way, casually laying on the guard rail of the gallery and looking down on the court. Atsumu ignores him.

When it’s time for a break, he sees Hinata jump towards Kageyama’s way, and stares from the shadows, nodding absentmindedly when his teammate talks about some of their plays. When Hinata is done exchanging some words with Kageyama - the way he squeezes Tobio’s hand briefly and flushes ever so slightly doesn’t go unnoticed - he watches him disappear in the corridor leading to the public bathrooms.

Atsumu is opportunistic - he has to be, if he’s to satiate this horrifying hunger that consumes him every day. He volunteers to refill his teammates’ water bottles and barely acknowledges anyone when they relinquish their flasks to him with a puzzled look inscribed all over their faces.

(Atsumu was selfish, and he never volunteered to refill anything. Ever. )

If Osamu’s mocking smirk is an attempt at shattering his brazen confidence, it does not work in the slightest.

He’s filling the bottles one after the other when he finally hears the toilet flush, and the rush of water against the sink. He psyches himself up - puts on his best relaxed features, his voice is light and charming when he calls to Hinata.

“ Shouyou-kun ! It’s been a hot minute. “

Hinata turns right on his feet, and his eyes brighten up with glee, like they always do any time they meet at a volleyball event.

(Atsumu does not think about how blinding they must be when he looks Tobio’s way. )

“ Miya-san ! Nice tosses out there. You’re as sharp as ever. “

Atsumu only half-fills that last bottle - sorry, not sorry to whomever it belongs to - and lays casually against the water fountain.

“ Call me Atsumu. Miya-san is my father. “

Shouyou doesn’t reply ; he looks at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Atsumu persistently asks Shouyou the same thing any time they meet, and the next encounter is a broken cuckoo clock - Miya-san. Miya-san. Miya-san.

You never call me Atsumu.

He doesn’t dwell on it.

“ How’s life treating you, anyway ? “

He lets Shouyou tell him all about his part-time job, and his volleyball practice with their local neighborhood club. He’s hard at work, as always. And he likes volleyball just as much as he did in High School. He’s hungry, and gleeful, and motivated - Atsumu wants him to ditch the crappy team he hangs out with, so he can be his personal trainer, and kiss him senseless after their practices.

Except that role is already filled by someone else.

The conversation ends, and Atsumu seizes his chance - he flirts shamelessly, another strange ritual that followed them through the years.

“ We only have one option, Shouyou-kun. “ Atsumu lets the honey roll off his tongue, and the words are almost a whine, but not quite - when he looks at Shouyou, his eyes are veiled, his voice sultry. “ We should elope, together. “

It’s an absurd proposal, of course. It’s meant to be a joke, but if Shouyou said yes, Atsumu would probably leave everything behind and take him halfway across the world, to some deserted island where all there is to do is sleep, fuck and get a nice tan.

Hinata’s words cut sharp as a knife when they reach for Atsumu’s ears.

“ Could you stop joking around like that, Miya-san ? “ His tone is surprisingly calm - cold.

He doesn’t look amused anymore, but his eyes are what hurts Atsumu most, because Shouyou simply looks sad. And it’s Atsumu’s fault.

“ I’m with Kageyama. “

Of course, everyone knows - the least kept secret in their entire league. Kageyama Tobio and his annoyingly coy little boyfriend. But it’s the first time those words are said out loud, and they fill his mind with a disgusting poison. Atsumu’s tongue feels ashen in his mouth, and his throat constricts on its own - he could choke on air.

For the first time in his life Miya Atsumu is at a loss for words, and he can only stare blankly at Hinata while shame shackles him with the heaviest chains he’s ever carried.

“ I want to be friends, “ Shouyou says gently, and his eyes are soft but they cut deeply - Atsumu sees the pity in them. He’s pathetic. “ But these jokes are disrespectful to me, and to my partner. “

Some things scared Atsumu - he was afraid of the Yatsukahagi demon Osamu said lived in their closet, when they were eight years old. Scared any time he got benched in junior high for missing too many tosses, while his twin remained on the court. Scared that people would realize how empty he actually is, a failure of a man hidden under black volleyball uniforms and condescending smiles.

But he was never as scared as seeing his reflection stare back at him from Hinata’s sad, vacant eyes. A gaze devoid of any love.

I was always gonna lose to you, Tobio-kun.

Except Miya Atsumu never loses, and if he cannot be with Shouyou in the exact way he wants, he also refuses to let him disappear from his life. If Atsumu decides to walk the path of devotion, he’s seeing that path right to the bitter end, whether he ends up in a glorious castle or at the verge of a bottomless pit.

“ Okay. I won’t make those jokes anymore. “ He smiles, it’s a polite smile - just what he needs in that situation, to keep himself from falling apart.

His eyes are gentle when he extends his hand to meet Hinata’s, and his tone is unwavering, like he’s tossing a ball.

“ Let’s be best friends. “

__________________________

Atsumu keeps his promise ; he still pesters Hinata, sends the same goofy emails, tags him on funny instagram reels because those clumsy baby animals remind him of the small man and his lively orange hair.

He cares about Shouyou like he’s supposed to - as a friend. They talk about nothing and everything, the weather, the Spring Tournament qualifiers now that it’s entirely in the hands of their juniors, about some stupid show Atsumu started watching ‘ironically’ and ended up crying over for the fourth time now.

There’s only one thing they don’t talk about, and it’s Tobio. It’s not even that Atsumu put this restriction on their friendship ; he’s ready to swallow his all-devouring pride just to be Shouyou’s friend, and he figures out quickly that it’s just Hinata being considerate. It’s a good thing - Atsumu would probably leave a crumbling hole in the wall of his flat if he had to hear about their romantic affairs.

Atsumu moves on with his life, and he starts dating ; nothing ever so serious. He tries, too. Miya Atsumu keeps crashing into life at one hundred miles an hour, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. It’s just that - no one succeeds in keeping him interested, at least not for a long time. They’re mere shadows moving on the walls of a cavern, when what he craves is the sun right outside its mouth. His love life is a succession of polite hookups, casual email exchanges and the pang of his heart whenever Shouyou marks up his Instagram DMs with a little sparkling heart emoji.

That’s what you deserve, Atsumu.

He believes it, too. Chooses to ignore Osamu whenever he looks at him with frustration and grief. Atsumu realizes there’s only one love meant for him, and it’s volleyball ; so he focuses on his career with a renewed fervor that reeks of desperation.

He’s freshly out of the shower when he hears his cell phone ring from the distance of his bedroom. He almost drops it on the floor as he jumps to grab it, hands still wet and fidgety because this ringtone belongs to a very specific individual - one he received direct calls from about twice in the past couple years.

“ Shrimpy ? “ he answers, trying - and failing - to hide the excitement in his voice.

Osamu stands right outside the frame of his bedroom, a sandwich in his hands - the word whipped is displayed all over his face, and Atsumu ignores him, as always.

” Miya-san ! “ Hinata’s as chirpy as ever, but Atsumu being Atsumu - completely devoted to his Shouyou-kun - he notices right away the slight despair that grates through his greeting. “ It’s been a while. “

Atsumu frowns ; it had been a while. He’s painfully aware of that. One hundred and twenty-one days, precisely, since the last time they shared a common space.

“ Need help with anything ? “

Atsumu was a nice guy, deep down - he tries not to freak out, tries to keep his promise. Tries to be a friend.

“ Do you mind grabbing a drink with me tonight ? “

Atsumu’s head perks up, he almost drops the gym bag he was busy unpacking and has to thank his athlete reflexes for the kick that prevents his personal effects from falling to the ground and messing up the floor.

He’s a hundred percent serious when the words leave his mouth.

“ Anything for you. “

Atsumu takes a little extra time grooming himself, but it’s also nothing out of the ordinary ; he looks good, with freshly showered hair and and a sick ass bomber jacket he bought the other day (don’t mind the faded 7-11 t-shirt he’s sporting under, or his sketchy loafers), yet he’s been hit in the face enough by missed receives and life altogether he cannot go and meet Hinata expecting anything else that a friendly gathering between old pals.

Something is clearly going on with Shrimpy ; he probably came to Atsumu because there was no one else available at the moment. So Atsumu is not gonna fail him.

His heart skips a beat when he turns the corner and spots Shouyou waiting for him right in front of the bar - it’s Spring, but Shouyou is still wearing that big scarf of his that turns Atsumu’s insides into pudding everytime he sees it. It makes him look so much tinier than he actually is. A bit younger, too - Hinata had settled into his adult features a while ago ; had bulked up a little bit, too, and grew a couple centimeters more. He was a man, but at this moment Atsumu was sixteen again and Hinata a fifteen year old boy shining with the intensity of the sun.

Atsumu’s heart shatters into a million pieces ; he braces himself.

You do this on the court constantly. Picking yourself up, and fighting until you don’t feel your bloodied knees anymore.

He waves at Shouyou and is greeted with an enthusiastic grin, like no time has passed at all ; like it was yesterday that they’d shared a glass of wine at one of these official volleyball networking meetups, when he found it strange that Hinata stuck to him most of the night instead of his boyfriend. He had thought nothing of it, because that ship had sailed a long time ago and sometimes partners are just busy talking with other people.

Except he’s got an inkling that maybe it wasn’t nothing, after all. Hinata holds him in his arms a little too long when they go for a brotherly hug ; looks at him a little too forlornly when they sit comfortably at the counter, and order some beer.

“ How’s practice ? “ Shouyou asks, hands circled tight around his glass.

Atsumu smiles ; he takes a sip of his own beer, not surprised that they’d fall into the polite chit chat routine. He takes one right out of Osamu’s book and patiently waits.

“ As good as ever. Scouts are coming over more and more, rumor is that they’re picking up the official Olympics lineup soon. “

Hinata whistles ; Atsumu thought the Olympics mention would be more frustrating than surprising for the other man, since Tobio must have been dealing with it, too. So he finds it strange that Hinata reacts at all.

“ How’s Tobio-kun ? I bet he’s busy overworking himself, as always. “ It’s not like Atsumu was better off - he rarely saw Osamu at all, lately, with how often he’d stayed behind at practice to hit serves, alone in the gym, because he needed all the opportunities he could get.

His question is genuine, too ; Atsumu was a pro at compartmentalizing, stubborn in his refusal to deal with any of his shit. Therapy was overrated when hitting a volleyball relentlessly brought him all the answers he pretended to need.

Hinata stays silent, busy drowning his coaster in condensation circles from his glass of beer.

“ I don’t know. “ Shouyou is avoiding his eyes on purpose.

Atsumu is gentle when he asks “ Anything happened ? “ and he spots the torment taking reins on Hinata’s features from the corner of his eyes. If he could, he’d punch that torment right from his face.

“ No, “ Shouyou says at first. “ Well, yes. “

Some things are hard to say - Atsumu knows all about that. He lets Hinata figure out his own pace.

” I broke up with Tobio. “

Atsumu’s heart is pounding violently in his chest ; for years he had hoped to hear these words ushered into existence. For years he’d lay in the shadow of bushes and wait for the impossible to become possible, because Atsumu was a moron that still believed in miracles, no matter how contradictory it made his entire existence. Yet it didn’t feel good at all - how could he be happy about it when Shouyou looked so defeated ?

“ Why ? “

A simple question. The answer is probably much more complex. Hinata scoffs, and it’s an empty husk of a laugh. It doesn’t suit him at all. Atsumu wants to kiss all of his worries away ; he sips on his beer instead.

“ I guess I just - the drift between our abilities and careers kept growing and growing, and, “ if there are tears in Hinata’s eyes, Atsumu pretends he does not see them. “ It got to be too much. “

Atsumu wants to say so many things - How could Tobio let you feel this way ? How could Tobio not help you be the better version of yourself, how could he not support you with volleyball, and with your life ? How could he fail at his devotion - I would have never let you stray so far away from me. I would have kept loving you no matter what. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love yo-

“ I am sorry, Shouyou-kun. “

If Atsumu does not feel sorry for Kageyama, he feels sorry for Hinata. He pictured the day those two finally broke up as a celebration - fantasized about ordering a custom banner online that read Get Fucked, Tobio-kun so he could hang it in their living room, no matter how much Osamu screamed at him for having a garbage personality and self-destructive tendencies.

He regrets those thoughts, now, because clearly Shouyou still loved his ex-boyfriend to the point of hurting, and would probably for the rest of his life. Atsumu wants nothing more than sock Kageyama in his stupid ugly face for fumbling the love of his life (the love of both their lives), but he figures it would only make Hinata more upset than he already is.

“ There’s nothing to say, really, “ and Shouyou’s smile may be sad, but it is also dignified. He finally looks back at Atsumu, eyes split equally between sorrow and the foolish desire to hope for better days. “ Heartbreaks are a part of life. I think it might be good for me, in the long run. I’ve been anchoring myself to this place for too long. “

Atsumu raises his eyebrows at Hinata ; what could he possibly mean ?

“ I’ve been thinking about going to Brazil. “ Atsumu glimpses that look in Hinata’s eyes, that look of anticipation and hunger that may be dimmed right now, but still fueled him to his core. “ ‘Heard the beach volleyball scene is sick. “

Stay here, I will toss for you. I will send you all the tosses you need.

Atsumu is a selfish asshole, by his own admission ; but he felt Shouyou’s smothered flame graze at him from the warmth of his jean jacket, and there’s one cardinal sin of selfishness he’s not ready to commit yet.

If Hinata Shouyou did not belong to Kageyama Tobio, he certainly did not belong to Miya Atsumu.

“ That seems like a great fucking plan. “

They walk side by side in the darkest hour of the night ; both drunk and giggling like imbeciles, waking up some very angry locals when Hinata trips and ends up with legs propped in the air while wrestling a garbage can.

Atsumu hasn’t felt this happy in a long while, and he wheezes like a buffoon, tears pricking at his eyes as he tries to get Shouyou back on his feet. He tugs too hard, and the shorter man is holding onto his sturdy frame, breathless and beautiful and radiating sunlight everywhere around him. He looks at Atsumu with glassy eyes, his laughter stops abruptly - his face is all serious. Atsumu’s nerves could break at any given time.

“ Hey, Miya, “ Hinata asks, almost pleading. “ Were you serious, all these years, when you flirted with me ? “

Atsumu never pictured himself a coward - he was too stupid for that. Yet in this instant, he considers throwing Hinata back to the garbage and bolt in the night just to flee this conversation he’s been avoiding for the entirety of their relationship.

Instead, he braces himself, takes a steady intake of breath, and tells the truth.

“ Yeah. “ It feels surprisingly good to say it out loud.

He probably looks goofy, because his hair ended up drying all fucked up and he’s piss drunk out of his mind, so much so he’s one shot short from seeing double Hinatas. He doesn’t let an ounce of courage slip away from his pores.

Hinata looks at him with want in his eyes, and he does something Atsumu only ever dreamed about, and never expected to have manifested into reality - he gets up on the tip of his toes, slips both of his arms around Atsumu’s neck, and he’s suddenly so close Atsumu stops breathing. He fantasized about this on an unhealthy level ; had vivid dreams about holding Shouyou in his arms, hand fisted in his hair and mouth all over his lithe body.

He always woke up crying.

Almost cries, right there and then, because he’s holding Shouyou, Shouyou is holding him and it’s been a total of four years in the making, four long excruciating years of simultaneously waiting and resigning himself to an unavoidable fate. His head lowers, and if Shouyou closes his eyes, Atsumu has his wide open. Atsumu waits. And waits. Waits for Hinata to move.

Hinata doesn’t.

A part of him wants to scream and throw up, as he’s about to get what he wants after what felt like a thousand years old battle to the death with his own ego, and he thinks he’s definitely a little bit masochistic since he can feel Shouyou’s breath fawn all over his lips ; it’s a sort of kiss in itself, and yet he remains still.

” I’m not going to kiss you, Shouyou. “

These horrible words pour into Hinata’s mouth and he opens his eyes, lays back a little bit, still not letting Atsumu go.

” Why ? “ The million dollar question.

Atsumu knows all there is to know about rebounds - a service ace that rebounds on the court while the enemy team stands petrified. A rebound when he suddenly spikes the ball instead of going for a toss, as he watches it bounce on the wooden floor, the crowd cheering for his brazen move. Most of all a rebound he gets when that perfect toss settles in the palm of Osamu - the indirect satisfaction of having brought the absolute best out of his wing spiker when that quick hits the line in a diabolical straight shot.

This specific kind of rebound - it fucking sucks.

Atsumu gently pries Hinata’s arms off his neck, and he holds his hands instead.

“ Remember our first Spring Tournament ? “ Atsumu will never forget. “ I told you I would be setting for you one day, and yet, not once have you looked back my way. “

This admission scorches at his pride more than any missed toss, or any lost championship. Miya Atsumu had always been a sore loser, and today was no different.

“ Just like I’m not gonna toss to you when you don’t want me to, I’m not gonna kiss you until you want to kiss me first. “

Hinata’s eyes well up with thick tears, and Atsumu figures he’s crying for a lot of reasons - mourning a relationship that went beyond years and phases, mourning a career that never happened, and mourning the fact Atsumu still had enough pride to refuse coming off in second place to anyone. Atsumu lets him cry all over his crappy 7-11 shirt, and he holds Hinata as steady as ever, breathes the Irish Spring 3-in-1 shampoo right from Hinata’s curls, and lets himself heal at the same time.

Atsumu didn’t win ; but not winning doesn’t mean you lose.

Miya Atsumu never loses.

__________________________

It’s him that brings Shouyou to the airport, on the day when he finally leaves for Brazil and is nothing but a bundle of nerves and unfulfilled ADHD meds prescription.

Shouyou looks like a fifteen year old boy all over again, despite being almost twenty, and he’s leaving with a backpack, two suitcases and one hell of a dream.

“ Stop shaking so violently. You’re making me nervous. “

Atsumu is collected when he receives Hinata’s glare, the man holding for dear life on his stomach, looking for a last minute break to the bathroom.

“ I’ve never left the ground ever. Now I’m on my way to a fourteen hour flight, about to exile myself in a country where I barely speak the language. Of course I’m nervous. “

Atsumu kicks Hinata lightly on his scrawny butt - it barely scratches him, yet Hinata stops in his track and slaps him hard on the shoulder instead.

“ Jerk, “ he mutters - but he stopped holding his guts, and he looks calm, at last.

“ Listen, Shrimpy, “ Atsumu grounds Hinata even more when he holds him gently, yet firmly by the shoulders with his big setter hands. “ You’ve faced Tobio-kun and survived. You’ve faced Oikawa-san, and even Uchikawa - hell, you’ve faced me. And won. “

Atsumu flicks Hinata over the forehead, it leaves a flushed, red mark on his skin.

“ This flight is nothing. If anything, I’m terrified for the poor people waiting for you in Brazil. ”

Hinata snorts ; he looks back with renewed resolve, Atsumu grins stupidly at him. Because Shouyou is an idiot, at his core, and Atsumu is about to let the only man he’s ever loved walk away and accomplish great fucking things.

Osamu told him long ago he had a crappy personality, and it was still true - perhaps Atsumu was making this one decision that would ruin his own life, and save another one. A sort of penitence.

“ Go get ‘em, you monster. “

He feels the warmth of their fists bumping into each other well after Hinata has gone through the gate and waved his arm at him, with an idiotic smile on his face and the whole world held at the tip of his fingers.

His entire team screams as Atsumu’s final toss seals the deal of their joint practice match - he grins proudly at the frustrated looks on the rival team, as well as the glee present on his teammates’ faces.

With the exception of one.

Despite scoring the final point, and about half of their last set, Sakusa has that same enthusiastic look of browsing for vegetables at the grocery store. He looks vacant when he whips out the sanitizer to wipe his hands ; Atsumu would even dare say he’s a little bit gloomy. It annoys him.

“ Aggghhhh, come on, Omi-omi, you could at least look happy ! It was a perfect toss ! “

Sakusa glares at him with cold eyes.

“ I guess it was. “

He promptly ignores any more fussing from Atsumu, and the setter mutters some curses under his breath, hoping for some mildly annoying things to befall his new flatmate - stepping in dog poop, stuff like that.

( He likes to pretend they don’t get along at all, and sometimes they truly don't - but Atsumu does like Sakusa. In a weird ‘ this is my new creature ‘ kind of way.)

They start stretching as practice comes to an end, and it’s Inumaki that brings an interesting question to their table.

“ I haven’t seen coach Foster in the latter part of the set, where was he ? “

Atsumu realizes Inumaki is right ; their coach had disappeared mid-way that last set, but he was too focused on making the rival team’s life a living nightmare to properly process the fact.

“ Haven’t you heard ? “ Their captain replies, diligent in his stretching. “ We’re welcoming a newbie today - he registered late, and was just recently cleared. I think he just came back to Japan from Brazil. “

Atsumu stops mid-stretch ; his ears are ringing with the aftermath of the atomic bomb Meian just dropped in the middle of their little chat. Right on cue, he hears footsteps approaching from the corridor that led to their gym, and familiar voices bounce on the wooden floors. His eyes well up with tears as he springs into a jog, Meian trying and failing to grab him by his shirt so he finishes stretching.

Coach Foster enters the room accompanied by a small man with a mop of unruly orange hair, and Atsumu interrupts him mid-sentence when he crashes into Hinata, hugging him so tightly his already sore arms burn him - but it’s exhilarating.

” Why didn’t you - You didn’t say anything - “ Atsumu is barely able to form a coherent sentence with how overwhelmingly happy he feels right now.

“ Exactly for this reason, “ Hinata replies, a little smug, and he hugs Atsumu just as tightly.

He’s happy because Shouyou is back. Shouyou is back to play volleyball. On his team. With his tosses. He’s aware being on the verge of crying his eyes out is a weird look, especially since he’s a grown man and it’s only been three weeks on the Jackal’s team - but fuck it. Atsumu is so happy, and he doesn’t care about anything else other than holding Shouyou in his arms.

” I wasn’t aware you two were, uh, so close, “ Coach Foster says, visibly taken aback by their display of affection. “ I was about to introduce Hinata to the guys - “

“ Please allow us a moment. “ Atsumu interrupts his coach and he’s perfectly aware it’s rude - could cost him his very position in the lineup, but he needs to see this through. “ I know this is selfish of me, “ he says, bowing deeply to his coach. “ I apologize. “

His coach is understandably confused, and a little irritated ; Atsumu keeps bowing, and eventually coach Foster sighs, because Miya Atsumu is the most stubborn man to walk the face of the earth.

“ Five minutes. “

Atsumu drags Hinata away from the gym, and Shouyou’s laugh is light in the air - he laughs like he used to, when they were high school kids and they had nothing better to do than forcefully dream. Life was different, now - being an adult was different. For Shouyou to still be able to laugh like that was all Atsumu could ask for.

He lets go of Hinata’s hand when they are farther away in a secluded corridor, turns to face his best friend of two years now - a million questions threatening to roll off his tongue and fall right into Shouyou.

Something Atsumu could have never predicted happens.

Shouyou grabs him by his sweaty volleyball jersey and drags him down to plant a furious kiss on his lips. Atsumu is stiff as a board ; he is unable to close his eyes, or even reciprocate, and it’s only when he senses Hinata hesitate because Atsumu is not doing anything that he pushes his body against the wall and kisses him back fiercely - finally. It tastes of many things : it’s a mixture of love and ache, smoke and tears, it’s desolate lands springing back to life and pouring waterfalls straight into him, but most of all it’s a taste that feels better than any toss or spike Atsumu could hit.

When their lips part, Atsumu chases Shouyou’s mouth almost subconsciously, and he releases a breath of air that reminds him of being born anew. Shouyou chuckles, cups Atsumu’s face with his small hands and just - smiles at him, with a look of wonder Atsumu has never seen directed to him by anyone in his entire life.

“ That was the one thing I promised myself I would do as soon as I saw you. “

Atsumu chokes on something - air, mucus building up in his trachea, love, maybe.

“ When ? When did you know ? “

In true masochistic fashion, Atsumu seeks answers that are not needed, because all of his life he’s been second guessing himself, as if the rug’s about to get pulled from under his feet. He needs to know.

“ Does it truly matter ? “ Hinata asks, almost offended. Atsumu laughs, and tears start falling down his face.

“ No, it doesn’t. “

But something in his eyes begs, and Hinata is nice enough to give him those answers anyway.

“ To be honest, I’m not sure myself. At some point, while I was in Brazil, I realized that something was missing from my life. It used to be Tobio. “ At these words, Atsumu feels an ugly pang in his chest - still afraid he’s getting second place, as always. Shouyou gently pushes the tears away from his cheeks, just to ground him back. “ But whenever I thought of home, it was your face that I saw. “

He cradles his head in the nook of Hinata’s neck, and he cries.

“ ‘M sorry, “ Atsumu mumbles while Shouyou rubs his back soothingly. “ ‘M just - really happy right now. “

They get interrupted by a loud cough, and when Atsumu lifts his eyes, he’s met with the unimpressed face of one Sakusa Kiyoomi. He glares back through the blur of his tears, as if to say ‘ Got a problem ? ‘ and Sakusa simply shrugs, passes them as he takes a turn to go to the bathroom. Before he disappears, he stops to say “ You need to warn me two days in advance if he’s to come home. Just so I can prepare myself. “

He leaves unceremoniously. Hinata has so many questions inscribed on his face, but Atsumu shakes his head, and kisses him again. He can’t wait to rub it in Osamu’s face later on - rub what, exactly, Atsumu doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.

Miya Atsumu always wins.