Chapter Text
Atsumu Miya wasn’t stupid, he knows everyone dies at some point,
He just didn’t expect his twin to go before him. When they were seven Atsumu and his twin, Osamu had made a promise to each other; When they were old and grey, they’d die side by side at the exact same time, if not at the exact time, then a few seconds after eachother. “I am so not dying before you Tsumu, I will live longer!” Osamu would shout with that smile that Atsumu could never replicate, no matter how long he had sat in front of the mirror trying.
Atsumu needed that smile right now, at midnight on a bridge in his pyjamas. He was standing in front of the railing, hands gripping the railing behind him. It was moments like these, where he would get in his head about something, when only osamu could calm him. When they’d lost their first match and Atsumu couldn’t stop thinking about what he had done to make them lose, he was so frustrated, but Osamu just held him and brushed through his hair as though their age wasn’t just minutes apart. Atsumu may have been the older twin but Osamu was the mature one, he had saved Atsumu from himself time and time again and yet, the boy on the bridge now was proof he could never be like his brother, if he had been with his brother that night, Osamu would still have been here and Atsumu wouldn’t have been about to jump of a bridge in the darkness, Some fucking twin he was.
He was ready, he was going to jump, and he was going to see his other half again.
Just as he was about to let go, something grabbed his sleeve, pulled him over the railing and back to the safety of the bridge, he fell to his knees immediately, not noticing the way his legs shook until now. When he pulled his knees to his face, he noticed his trousers had gotten wet. Huh when did he start crying? He hadn’t cried since the funeral… A hand fell to his knee, snapping him out of whatever weird trance he’d been in.
When he turned to his right, he could make out a faint shadow of a man with dark hair probably no older than him. He wanted to say something, but there were no words for the feelings in him now. The man got up and held out a hand when Atsumu took it he noticed a fabric feeling. Gloves? Odd. The man pointed in the opposite direction of the bridge and began to walk away. Atsumu was left stunned, maybe from the events that just took place or maybe it had been so long since he’d felt anything at all that he’d forgotten how to handle it. He was angry. that man had taken away his chances of seeing the only person he wanted to see.
The next day he acted as though everything was normal, or as normal as they could be. Since the funeral, his brother’s best friend, Suna rintarou moved in with him, Suna had been seeing a therapist and she had told him it was best to not be alone in ‘a time of pain’ pain was the understatement of the century. They worked around their new type of normal. They never looked eachother in the eye, their gaze was always slightly off they would act as though eye contact would turn them to stone, and maybe It would.
Today was different, Suna seemed better? He seemed determined.
When Atsumu woke Suna was standing in his doorway. “We need to talk.” His voice cut through the silence like a knife, Atsumu was forced to look at him. Suna had always been slim, but he seemed weaker than usual, his hair had grown out passed his ears and he was wearing an oversized T-shirt that Atsumu could identify as one of Osamu’s. his eyes were glued to the floor, but Atsumu could make out the faint hint of red around them, he must’ve been crying. Suna was Osamu’s best friend, not Atsumu’s so they’d never been close, but Suna was here, he was trying to form a connection. Atsumu tapped the space beside him on the bed lightly.
Suna’s shock was clear, he had clearly expected Atsumu to kick him out. When he sat, they stayed in silence for a few minutes until Suna mumbled “I know you tried to kill yourself.” It was so quiet, it pulled at his heart. “We weren’t ever close; I know that but… I still don’t want you gone, we already lost…” his voice trailed off as the tears fell. When Suna collected himself, he began to speak again.
“I think you should do volleyball again.”
Atsumu spoke for the first time in what seemed like years, his voice was hoarse and unpractised.
“Suna, I can’t not without him.”
“I know but please try, I’ve signed you up for try-outs with a team called the MSBY BLACK JACKALS, go just once and if u hate it I’ll never make you go again.”
Atsumu was in no place to argue.
“You know I love you Tsumu, we’ll always be family… okay?”
This was his breaking point, Atsumu broke down. the tears from weeks of sadness fell all at once and he couldn’t stop it, Suna just held him without a word.
Atsumu woke sweating, his heart was racing, he tried to breathe but it hurt, nausea took over him as he dragged himself out of bed. He took jagged half-breaths as he slid down the wall. His legs and hands were shaking. Panic attack. The realisation of what was happening settled deep into his bones, having done this time and time again he placed his hands to the cold floor, closed his eyes and counted, he had gotten to 109 by the time he noticed his heart was significantly slower and though the shakiness was still there he had enough strength to bring himself to his feet.
His morning was almost robotic, the way he carried out his actions were pure muscle memory. He ate breakfast, showered and put on athletic clothes. Manoeuvring himself to the bathroom to fix his hair.
Only now did he notice how he looked, eye bags, grown out dye made his hair half brown and half platinum blonde, he was a wreck. To fix it he grabbed concealer for under his eyes, and styled his hair in a way that made the fucked-up dye job look intentional. Suna had begun working at Osamu’s old onigiri shop so he wasn’t here to see him out.
Atsumu didn’t remember the drive to the gym, he just knew he had left and now he was here, huh, maybe I have some kinda memory loss. The thought almost made him laugh. He was determined to make these people see him as the way he used to be, obnoxious, loud but most importantly happy. Atsumu was a shitty person, yeah everyone knew that, but he wasn’t about to put all his grief on some other grown adults who just wanted to play volleyball.
He arrived at a large gym building with big letters spelling MSBY BLACK JACKALS across the top of the door. He fixed his hair and walked in, smile plastered to his face, ready to lie to everyone in there.
He recognised a few faces, Hinata Shoyo, from karasuno, the guy with the crazy jump, Bokuto Kotaro from fukurodani, loud but crazy powerful, and one face he didn’t recognise, but caught his eye, purely from the fact that he was in the corner far away from the rest. A man taller than himself, curly black hair, and two moles above his left eyebrow. He was built like a Greek god, gorgeous.
As soon as Atsumu saw the court it felt like a million knives in his chest. He had never just been Atsumu on the court, He had always been one of the miya twins. What was he now? Wives who had lost their husbands are called widows, but there was no word for losing your twin, your blood, the only person you met before being out of the womb.
“HEY! YOUR THAT MIYA GUY!” Bokuto Kotaro made his way over to greet him, Atsumu tried to ignore the way hearing his last name stung.
“Call me Atsumu, no need fer formalities, I’m prolly gonna be on yer team soon ya know!”
“So, your confident you can get in! I LIKE YOU, CALL ME BOKUTO ITS MY NAME”
Was he always this hyper, Atsumu swore he used to be better with hyper people, but it was giving him a headache.
The redhead, Hinata Shoyo made his way over. Grinning so widely, was this whole team on drugs, or drunk they’re so happy
“You told me you’d set for me Atsumu!”
Did he?
“What can I say! I never lie”
That was a lie in itself, by being here he was lying.
Once they stopped talking and started playing everything went smooth, it was what he did best after all. Volleyball helped; it always did. It was satisfying, the way the ball glided off of his fingertips into the perfect set, landing right in front of the spikers hands as he slams it down`.
Him being let on the team was predictable, he was the best setter in the prefecture after the annoying prodigy Tobio Kageyama.
When try-outs end, he can feel eyes bearing it to the back of his head, when he turns around, he sees Sakusa Kiyoomi what? Studying him? He felt oddly exposed. Sakusa’s eyes were a mix of confusion, judgement and maybe deep behind it pity. Atsumu’s exhausted and not in the mood to fight him over whatever that was but as he walks away, he hears.
“Miya toss me a few”
Okay rude, he could at least have not phrased it as a demand.
“Sorry! I have to keep these amazing talents to myself tonight”
“It wasn’t a question”
The nerve he had! This man was younger than him, was he not? what right did he have bossing him around anyways
“I’ll toss you 20 as soon as u fumble one I’m leaving”
This was not going to be a friendly teammate dynamic, clearly by the way Sakusa’s frown deepens.