Archive of Our Own

“Omi-omi! What’s goin’ on? Yer missing plays we could do in our sleep!” said Atsumu while opening the locker and threw his gear inside, giving his back to his teammates.

“Me? Have you considered that maybe your sets are the ones that are off? I’m used to your I know ya can jump higher crappy sets, but now you’re making it impossible to hit!” Sakusa said with a steady voice, but sounding clearly upset, not even caring to look at him, used to their daily banter.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault? Yer the one who couldn’t hit a barn door today! I’m settin’ ‘em like I always do. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted…”

“Distracted? Seriously now,’” Kiyoomi interrupted “Look, I’m not the one who’s been changing up plays without any heads up. You’re throwing me off with your surprise tactics.”

“Maybe if ya kept up with the pace we wouldn’t need to change anythin’! You’re just not pulling your weight, and now you’re looking for excuses. Yer the only one complaining about it!”

“Actually, Atsumu-san, now that you mention it…” Hinata started

“Shut up!” Both troublemakers said at the same time. 

“Hey! No talking to Hinata-kun like that!” Meian scolded them “Now stop complaining, you’re doing it just because, if it were an actual problem you’d already be doing extra practice like the derangers you are.”

“Sorry, Cap’” 

“Ugh, sorry”

A few moments of peace invaded the locker room.

“I think you’re doing that wrong.” Sakusa states, smirking, while Atsumu is deficiently fighting (and losing against) closing his locker

“I think I’m gonna smash your face in with a volleyball” 

“Like you could aim that.” 

“You know what-” The blond smacked the door and turned around just to see the one responsible for the banter.

“Cut it out you two!” Interrupted Meian “What kind of black magic do I need to do to get them to get along?”  he said after both left the room.

“Ohh, black magic? Have you ever considered macumbas ?” Hinata asked casually “A friend of mine did one and landed himself a boyfriend.” 

“What?”

“What?”

“What’s a macumba , Shouyou -kun?” Bokuto introduced himself in the conversation. “Is it something you learned in Brazil?”

“Yes! It is basically a magic spell, I think it’s used for romance mostly, but it works for other things too!”

“If you try that and it actually works , I’ll stop making you do extra laps whenever you mess up for trying so hard to show off in front of the Adlers.”  he said jokingly.

“You’ve got it, Captain!”

Atsumu feels cold. Which is weird, because he rarely does feels cold. 

He rolls over the bed and snug under the covers. He rubbed his feet and noticed that he was wearing pants and a shirt. He doesn’t wear anything but boxers when sleeping, so he probably put  them on in the middle of the night. His brain was foggy with tiredness, so he decided  not to give  it much thought.

The alarm went off a few minutes later, and he cursed the fact that he woke up too early, since he really appreciated his hours of sleep. And then, he noticed. Or more likely, his body noticed. It reacted with disgust, the sensation of disruption invading every cell, wanting to do anything at reach to stop it. That wasn’t his alarm tone, no, it was the default alarm tone for IPhones. Huh, how weird. He hadn't heard it since high school, from Osamu’s phone, and he was the one who bribed him to change it to something else because listening to the same thing disturb his sleep every morning was making him want to break something. 

He opened his eyes and reached for the phone on the floor near the bed. 

Three things invaded Atsumu’s mind at once. First,  his phone wasn’t on the floor, nor the usual pile of used clothes or the glass of water he usually leaves overnight. Second, the fabric that was covering his arm was extremely soft, and was nothing  like what he had in his wardrobe, or Osamu’s wardrobe to be fair, since he had the habit of stealing his brother’s clothing whenever they visited each other.  Finally, this wasn’t his room.
Certain smells invaded his nostrils, it reminded him of hospitals and his grandma’s house from when she got ill and someone else had to take care of the property, like bleach and disinfectant. The furniture was the same, but the walls lacked the volleyball posters. Instead, it was presented with a big blank space, white dominating  the place except for the humidity stains in the corners, which were surprisingly…reduced. Like someone had actually cared for them. His Inarizaki’s jersey and the photos from his graduation were also nowhere to be seen.

It was a little unsettling, like it was really similar to his room in the way hotel rooms are all the same, even sharing the same curtains, but there was a sense of plasticity in this one. Everything was too clean, way too tidy. It’s not like he was a particularly messy person, but if it wasn’t for the few clothing items in the open dresser in front of the bed and the aligned shoes across the room, you couldn’t guess that there was someone actually living here. 

Oh , this was a room from the MSBY dormitory complex.The fact calmed him a little, it’s not like he was lost or in a stranger’s house. He just had to get up and go to his room.
While he was getting out of the bed, he tried to rationalize why he was in one of his teammates’ room, he didn’t even recognize this one. Maybe he fell asleep with one of them while watching a movie or something. That was something that he used to do with Bokuto when he first moved to Osaka, missing the bunks beds and sharing every waking moment with his twin. But, if it was Bokuto’s, there would be a lot of pictures of his boyfriend, and it would be for sure way more messy, or if it was Hinata’s, he didn’t see the Brazil flag that he was gifted by his latino friends. Even if he decided to spend the night with one of his friends, that wouldn’t explain sleeping in the same bed and wearing someone else’s clothes. 

He felt the sleep in his eyes, so he resolved to wash his face first. He entered the individual bathroom that every dorm had, turned the water on, rolled the sleeves of what he just now noticed was a pair of pajamas and he noticed that his skin was a little too pale compared to normal. He looked up to watch himself in the mirror, except it was not him he found staring back at him. He was indeed paler, because it wasn’t his skin that he was wearing. His eyes were dark, initially he thought the owner of this body had black eyes, but now that he had the chance to stand this close and pay attention, it was a really, really dark brown. Black curls adorned his head, and even though his hair was a little messy, he found it pleasant-looking. There were two black moles in his forehead, ones that he always envied because they were such an interesting feature, and the particularity and unique symmetry of the beauty marks were really attractive. 

He was in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s body. 

“What. the. fuck.”

Sakusa is used to waking up disoriented. He normally wakes up at least twice at night, without counting the time he dreams he is waking up. So when he opens his eyes and doesn’t recognize his room, he just decides to close his eyes again and roll to the other side. The bed feels too soft to his liking, like he is sleeping in a cloud. Perhaps it’s time to change the mattress again. 

Someone is now knocking the door. Who the fuck decides to annoy him this early in the morning? His alarm didn’t even go off. Most of his teammates go for a run, and even if they decide to stay, they know better than to bother him. It’s not like people go to him when they want something, he does his best to stay out of other people's business. He pretends to be asleep, not opening his eyes again even if the other person can’t see him. 

The knocking goes again and he’s fully awake now, it seems like they won’t leave him alone. He sits in the bed and the fact that he is wearing nothing but boxers comes to his attention. Odd. 

“I’ll come in a second, I have to change first.” His voice sounds weird, not only the I just woke up weird type, but it’s a bit high even for a morning voice. He observes the room again that he doesn’t recognize . Well, there’s a sense of familiarity in his room, like someone came over and rearranged everything in a way that there’s too much to look at. There’s too much information in the walls and it’s overwhelming. The confusion makes his sight dizzy and kinda blurry.

He stands up and almost falls when he steps on a pile of what he hopes is not dirty clothes. He goes to the bathroom, one he also doesn’t recognize, and stares at his reflection. 

“What a funny dream I’m having.” He says out loud when he sees a life size picture of Miya Atsumu instead of a mirror. Except the picture moves his lips in sync when he’s talking, and the expression his teammate is wearing is one that’s really out of character for him. 

Normally when I notice I’m in a dream I can force myself to wake up, Kiyoomi thinks. He closes his eyes and imagines that he’s waking up in his bed, the cold hitting him, the softness of his pajamas and an actual comfortable mattress that could support him. He made his best efforts to stop the rain of thoughts that were forming at the back of his head. 

Thoughts like;
Yep, that’s it, all this shared time with Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu finally drove you crazy,
Why did I choose a professional team by flipping a coin? I could be in the Adlers having homoerotical tension with Wakatoshi-kun instead of dream where I have this piss yellow hair,

And finally
Does Taylor Swift have a song for this? 

“If yer not openin’ the door I’m bargin’ in!” A voice says breaking any attempt of concentration  he was having. “It’s my room after all!” he cringed at the sound, it was like hearing himself in a recording. Maybe he was his own narrator in this dream, but why was his subconscious using the Kansai-ben dialect? 

“Where the fuck…? Oh, there ya are!” He saw himself open the bathroom door with a really angry expression. His mother would call him out for such an expressive bodily display of emotions, that he would get wrinkles at 30, but it’s not like he was actually controlling his own body right now. He felt his heart falling to his stomach, this dream felt certainly much real and also way too stupid. Why would he wake up looking like Miya? Not like he liked the man much, less wanting to have his body “What the hell is goin’ on?!”

“Good morning to you, too. Care to tell me who you are?”

“What do ya mean who am I Omi?! Don’t tell me everyone is switching bodies and yer actually Shouyou !”

Switching bodies. Right. So that’s what this dream is about. 

“Oh, that, yes. I’m Sakusa. I suppose you’re Miya”

“How are ya not freakin’ out?! Do ya know ‘bout this, did ya plan it?!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Sakusa sighed, tiredly “This is such an interesting dream, no offense, but I’d prefer to wake up in my own bed so if you excuse me..” He said while going around…Miya? Himself? And heading to his actual room. 

“Dream?! This is real! Come here! How do we solve this?” 

“Don’t worry, once I wake up, everything is going to reverse back to normal. Go back to what I suppose is your room and lay down until this is over.” 

“Why do ya think yer the one in control’ If this is a dream then ‘m dreamin’ too!”

Kiyoomi stopped for a second and turned around to stare at him. This was a really weird dream. Not for the actual prompt about switching bodies with the one and only Miya Atsumu, but because it seems like the characters in his dream have a sense of individuality and self consciousness of existence. Does this “Miya” think they’re sharing the same dream? That it’s actually his dream? That they’re both separated souls living in one body? He would prefer not to start a revolution in his own brain and determined himself to play along. 

“Yes, indeed, then when we wake up, this is over.” The Miya Atsumu in his body didn’t seem convinced, it was easy to recognize his emotions when it was his own face the one exhibiting them, and he just turned and returned to his room. Yes, sleep. That was what he had to do. 

…

It was such an interesting dream, indeed. 

The second time he woke up he felt a wave of relief invading him when he realised he was in his room. And then everything crashed down when he looked in the mirror again. 

Okay, so this is what was going on.

This was not going well.

He actually tried to sleep, like Omi said, but there was no way to relax in this situation. At first he tried the theory that this was, in fact, a dream, but this reality was too complex for his own brain to have created it. He tried searching for answers on the internet, but after spending at least an hour on Reddit posts about  these disorders called depersonalization and derealization , the feeling of being in the wrong body that transgender people talked about and even conspiracy theorists about glitches in the Matrix, he preferred to slow down on the information because he was feeling like he was literally going crazy. 

He was supposed to be at the gym, since he usually did early practice before the actual one, but given the circumstances and the fact that it was going to look like Omi was the one early, he preferred to stay home until the inevitable. He expected Shou-kun to ask a lot of questions, considering it was the redhead's idea that they worked out early, but it seems like he already left. 

There has to be a bright side to this situation, he thought, so he got out of his room after changing into something less warm and went to the shared kitchen. 

Why this happened was a question that he had already given up on finding an answer, but maybe he could focus on the details, such as why him , why Kiyoomi of all people. He didn’t dislike the man, on the contrary, they had a lot of chemistry in the court and he wanted to transfer it to daily life. It was not working, but they have their moments. But there was no way this would help them. Putting yourself in the other’s shoes surely doesn’t refer to this . 

“Good morning, Omi-kun!” Brushing his train of thoughts aside, Bokuto was there, drinking his usual protein shake, probably just coming from his morning run. 

“Mornin’ Bokkun.” He smiled, the familiarity of his friend calmed him down a little.

“Oh? You’re in a good mood! And you called me Bokkun!”

“Ya could say that.” Shit, he forgot the imaginary wall Kiyoomi built around himself and others. At least it was Bokuto, who probably wouldn’t suspect anything. Maybe he could tell him? No. Not even Sakusa believed him and he was in the situation. He barged in the fridge, looking for the breakfast he prepared the night before. If he follows his usual routine it’ll stop his thoughts from wandering through his head. No thinking about the sudden body swap, or the fact he had to bend a little more than normal, how he was feeling cold even though he was using clothes that Atsumu normally wears in the morning, or how his skin was as soft and smooth as it seemed and how his moles decorated-

“Umm, Omi-kun, I don’t want to intrude, but that’s Tsum Tsum’s food.” Yeah, right. He can’t have a moment of tranquillity. Not even to appreciate other men's features. 

“Right, I wasn’t thinking.” What does Sakusa usually have for breakfast? He doesn’t pay attention to it. Based on personality only he could say that he takes the darkest and sugarless coffee that could ever exist, but he was an athlete, and breakfast was the most important meal for them, especially when you have morning practice. Also, there was a preconcept about introverted boys pretending to be sly by drinking black coffee but actually liking iced triple shot espresso with two splashes of oat milk with sweet cream foam blended with matcha powder and whipped cream. Yeah, Atsumu didn’t know where that specific order came from, not like it was his favourite morning drink. 

Talking about the devil, he sees his own body getting out of Kiyoomi’s room. He opens the door really fast, with an angry face, and starts walking to him. 

“You! What the hell did you do to me!”

“Oh, now ya believe me? And why am I the one that did somethin’?!” 

“ Because you’re always the one to fuck up things!” Sakusa grabbed the hem of his shirt while he was starting to shout. 

“Mean!”

“Okay, okay guys, stop! Calm down!” Bokuto separated both of them. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been at each other's throats since yesterday! ” Sakusa looks at him, then Bokuto, and then back at him. 

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“‘Course not! Do ya think he’d believe me?” Bokuto was still trying to keep them apart, while Sakusa was looking at Atsumu intensely, without answering. “Okay, ya know what? We need to talk. Alone. Will ya leave us for a few minutes, Bokku- Bokuto?”

“I will, but if I hear screaming I'll come back and tell Meian!” He threatened them and left, sounding unsure. 

“Okay, so, do ya wanna eat something?”  Atsumu said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen since Bokuto left the kitchen.

“What? No! I want my body back!”

“Do ya think I know how to do that? We wouldn’t be in this problem if I did!” Atsumu  sighed and brought a hand to his face. “ ‘Sides, thanks to yer idea of sleeping, we are late. We have practice in half an hour so you must grab something to eat, because I get dizzy if not, and we can talk about this heading to the gym.” 

“Okay, but we’re using my car, and I’m driving. No way I’m putting a feet in your filthy  vehicle”

…

It actually took them fifteen more minutes to get going, since Sakusa insisted on doing Atsumu’s hair because he doesn’t have any experience dealing with curly hair. Atsumu complained that he could learn, but it would take him hours to practise. Kiyoomi didn’t trust him with his hair and lastly,  neither of them wanted to think this wouldn’t last more than a day. 

“So, ya have any idea on why this happened?” Atsumu asked, watching through the window from the passenger seat.

“You are asking if I know how we exchanged souls accidentally ? What kind of things can even trigger it?”

“I don’t know, did ya make any birthday wishes ‘bout wantin’ to be me? Or have you been eating random fortune cookies?”

“What does fortune cookies have to do with this?”

“Oh my God, ya don’t know about mainstream fantasy? You need to get educated, Omi-kun!”

“Oh shut up, Miya. It’s evident that for now we can’t know how this happened, therefore, let’s make some things clear…”

“Okay…”

“First, I need you to be clean . Like, not your I wash my hands after I pee clean, like actually clean.” Sakusa started gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles started  turning more white than normal. “I don’t carry that gel alcohol everywhere for nothing so use it. Also, I need you to take a shower in the morning after you wake up and one before going to bed. Don’t eat anything that isn’t packed or cooked by any of us. You are surprisingly clean at the apartment so I don’t have anything to complain about it. Don’t do anything to my hair, I prefer to do it myself than having you experimenting with it and also make sure to cut your nails properly. Don’t drink, don’t get high and don’t fuck with anyone” 

“What a shame, I was really planning on doing coke on a dark alley before a match”

“Miya…”

“Just kidding, that’s a lot of things though”

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Okay, so I don’t mind ya doin’ anythin’ to my hair as long as it looks good. I think I don’t have to ask ya to be clean, and ya can eat anythin’ except strawberries since I’m allergic. Oh, and please don’t be nice to ‘Samu, I’m mad at him ‘cuz I had a dream where he stole my last pudding.”

“I see the last one is really important,” said the brunette without any sign of really caring. 

“It is Omi-kun! Ya don’t have siblings, ya won’t understand!” Whined Atsumu abandoning his sightseeing to gaze at his teammate trying to look as serious as possible. 

“I do actually.” 

“You do?! Why did ya never mention it? How should I talk to ‘em?”

“Um, it’s not like they would actually reach to me.” Kiyoomi’s face didn’t show any conflicted emotion, but the tint of his voice sounded a little uncomfortable.  “The only familiar you have to worry about is Motoya, but we can exchange phones, so we don’t have to pretend to be each other online too.” 

Atsumu didn’t know how to answer that, so he just nodded and decided to resume his sightseeing again. Sakusa felt kinda bad for making the air uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like he was in charge of his family dynamics. 

“Look, maybe we need to exchange credit card information and that stuff. And also, you need to stop talking like that, it’s weird and people will think it’s weird.”

“Bank information is really personal! And whatcha mean talkin’ like that ?! Kansai accent?! Kinda rac-”

“We can change our personal info once this is over, and I didn’t think about kansai-ben but that too. What I mean is that you are so loud, please lower your enthusiasm and will to live. Also, quit the expressionism from your face, it’ll get me wrinkles.” 

“Yer such a downer, Omi-omi! But that makes sense. You have to use the kansai-ben then!”

“No fucking way, it sounds weird when I do it”

“C’mon! It can’t be that bad…”

Sakusa takes a deep breath and says, “If ya can’t hit my sets, then yer a lousy spiker.”

It was that bad.

They sensed an immediate shift in the atmosphere. There’s a moment of hesitation, a pause that hangs in the air as both of them process what was just said. Sakusa face remained neutral, but the tips of his ears turned a bit pink, feeling a mix of self-consciousness and embarrassment, thanking his habit of wearing a mask everywhere due to the fact that it helped hiding his cheeks flushing slightly as he realizes the dialect didn’t quite roll off his tongue as naturally as they hoped.

It sounded awkward, kinda amusing at the same time, and sort of disturbing. Maybe it was because they both knew it wasn’t Atsumu who was speaking, it may sound natural to an outsider, but as the phrase left his mouth, it felt foreign and out of place, both to Sakusa and Atsumu. 

“ ‘Kay, yea, that freaked me out, please never do it again.”

“It was a really accurate interpretation of you!”

…

They arrived at the gym, and just a few moments before getting in the court, Kiyoomi became aware that they had a bigger problem ahead. 

“Miya…” After the weird looks around them, he noticed his mistake. He grabbed Atsumu’s arm and took him back to the changing room “How are we supposed to play like this?” Realisation invaded the blond’s facial expression. Then his face somehow went through  all five stages of grief at the same time. 

“Oh my God, how did we miss that?” Panic started rising in Atsumu’s voice. “Have ya ever set?”

“...Is it too late for us to skip practice?” 

“C’mon, Omi, don’t tell me that! It’s not that hard, really! Ya can say that yer trying new stuff!”

“If you can call new stuff being a loser more than usual.”

“So now you admit yer a loser!”

“That’s it, I’m messing with your sets until you get benched.”

“Omi-omi! Look, all ya have to remember is…”

Fifteen minutes passed as they talked about technique. Sakusa kept asking question after question, and it was draining Atsumu’s patience. They talked about setting preferences for their teammates, how they usually serve and spike, and the importance of stretching, paying special attention to Kiyoomi’s wrists since they were the body part most affected when playing because of his hypermobility. Where the brunette insisted on knowing every little detail regarding the position he was about to play, even asking stupid or obvious things, Atsumu just wanted to get on the court and take advantage of the situation, as a form of learning what else he could do for his spikers. Meian entered the locker room searching for them and they resumed their conversation hoping for the best. 

It did not work at all. 

At first everything went normal. They barely talked to  their teammates, trying to get used to the other speeches style. Warming up was normal, it even felt natural in a stranger’s body. If anyone noticed the way that their serves resembled each others’, no one mentioned it. 

That’s until the practice match started.

Atsumu is used to paying attention to his surroundings too, and he wasn’t half bad as a receiver either. Not as good as Kiyoomi, but it could pass as a bad day. And it’s not like Atsumu isn’t used to spiking, it was normal for professional players to do so, not minding the position -except for liberos-, but it was his instincts that were betraying him. Like, whenever he was looking for the ball, he couldn’t help but position himself to set, hurrying his arms and legs in coordination and searching for someone to pass.
That wasn’t the hard part though. The difficulty was found in controlling the ball when attacking, given the fact that Kiyoomi’s wrists were extremely flexible, and directioning it wasn’t easy at all. He always hits the ball with all his force, used to push his body to his limits, but he didn’t know the limits of this one.

He stopped obsessing over it when he noticed it seemed that Sakusa did actually keep his promise to mess his sets to get him benched. His setting form wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t catching the tempo, and his footwork was terrible. He did double touch the ball three times in a row, and it wasn’t like his arms weren’t "syncing up"; rather, it's because he is too slow to the spot. Frowning and fists closed, his body was completely stiff, tense, impotence was showing in his face. 

It was now Sakusa’s turn to serve. 

Sakusa, now in Atsumu’s body, stood at the service line, rolling the ball between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, tossing the ball with a lower arc than he was used to. His palm struck it hard, expecting his usual spin and power—

The ball shot forward… straight into the net.

A beat of silence.

Hinata blinked. "Uh… was that a practice serve?"

Sakusa clenched his jaw, feeling the unfamiliar tension in Atsumu’s wrist. This shouldn’t be this hard. It’s just a jump serve. I’ve done this a thousand times.

“Oi, Atsu-kun, what was that ?” Atsumu, from the sidelines, watching in Sakusa’s body, hollered.

“Don’t call me that” Sakusa shot him a glare. “I’m adjusting.”

The match resumed, and Sakusa, in Atsumu’s body, squared up for a block. Bokuto’s spike was coming straight for him. He jumped, hands high—

—and completely missed, the ball soaring past his fingertips.

“Too slow, Omi-omi!” Atsumu yelled from the other side.

Sakusa landed hard, gritting his teeth. This body isn’t tall enough. No. I’m just not used to it. Focus.

Next play, he jumped again. This time, he mistimed and clipped the net with his fingers.

Bokuto blinked. “Dude, you okay?”

Atsumu, huffing from the other side, whisper-shouted at him, “I swear, yer makin’ me look bad. Bend yer knees more! Jump earlier!”

“Do you want to come over here and do it yourself?!” Sakusa snapped, whispering too.

No one mentioned anything other than calling them out for not paying attention, but both of them could feel how the tension was building up around them. It wasn’t until Sakusa finally set the ball decently enough to Atsumu, that everything finally snapped. The latter was already running to the ball, feeling confident for once, and hit the ball perfectly.

Or it would be perfect if he was in his own body.

Atsumu noticed his mistake when the ball stopped making contact with him, he felt the way he made it spin and how this changed the trajectory completely when his hand flexed more than he would normally expect. Instead of going to the empty space between Hinata and Inunaki, it slightly moved to the left, aiming none other than the redhead. Or more likely, the redhead’s face.

“Oh my God, Sho-kun! Are ya okay? I’m so, so, so sorry!” Atsumu runned under the net and got to the other side of the court, kneeling beside his friend who fell thanks to the impact. 

“Sakusa! Why did you-” Meian started, but was quickly interrupted by Kiyoomi.

“What the fuck was that?! How do you suddenly forget how to spike?!”

“It wasn’t intentional at all! I just- It just started spinning and- and I couldn’t control it!” The characteristic dialect was sliping because of the panic, but it wasn’t the right moment to mention it. Atsumu looked at him as he stood up once he checked Hinata was okay. “Maybe I would get used to it if ya did actually send a decent ball!” the concern was starting to wear off and being replaced by feelings of angriness.

“Oh, so it’s my fault that you’re terrible at something you should know !” Kiyoomi walked to him, everything was happening so fast that he didn’t notice when Meian got to his side until he grabbed his arm and startled him. 

“Atsumu, calm down.” He looked him straight in the eyes and gave him goosebumps. He was used to his Captain’s seriousness, but he was rarely the object of his scolds, even if being called by another person's name made the experience lighter, he felt his skin burning in shame. “I want both of you outside the court to cold down a little. Separated. Then we’ll talk.” He gave them a final glare and released him.

Atsumu just huffed and turned to talk to Hinata, begging for pardon again. 

“It’s okay, Omi-san! It’s kinda funny, I haven’t received a ball to the face since highschool!” said the affected, while waving a hand to dismiss the importance  of the situation. 

Kiyoomi decides to leave before verbally attacking Atsumu again because of the way he’s acting with Hinata. He does like the middle blocker, but he prefers to show any sign of affection behind closed doors. He felt bad for prioritising his reputation over his teammate's wellbeing, but it could have been worse. It could have been Bokuto the one spiking. In that case he surely would be unconscious by now. 

He took a ball and decided to practise setting against a wall, outside the gym. No one was around so there was no danger of another accident. It was a really basic exercise, addressed to children who were learning to set, it was easy and probably a waste of time, but he had to start at something to get better. It was easy to set without pressure, the undeniable challenge residing in the amount of things he had to account for in the middle of a match without wasting time. Also, the fact that he was getting used to having slightly shorter legs, messing with his calculations on how many steps he had to take before jumping. 

He was on his 176 set, planning on doing 250 today, when he noticed the ex-blond-now-brunette  coming closer to him. 

“Meian said that we shouldn’t be together. Actually, the farest away you’re from me, the happiest I am” 

“Why? Ya afraid imma jump ya?”

“I’m more concerned about you embarrassing me.”

Sakusa was expecting a witty retort, but none came. Instead, his teammate sat at a safe distance and observed his plays.
He knew he had to apologize, they were no normal predicament, so it was obvious they weren’t going to play as great as normal. But he couldn’t help it when he hit one of his favourite Jackals -not like he ever was going to admit he was fond of Hinata, like there could exist a person who didn’t like him- and made a fool of him at the same time. 

“Yer too close to the wall, ya need to get more distance if ya want to get used to set normally” 

Sakusa huffed at the observation. He was not asking for advice. 

“I just started.” 

“And ya already got the hook of it! C’mon, take two steps back!” 

“...I need to set at least 250 times like this, then I’ll move.”

“Oh, right, yer number thing. Sorry, I get it.” 

That…disoriented Kiyoomi. An actual apologize from Miya for something that people usually consider stupid or quirky? This was probably crazier than the whole body swap thing. 

“Do you know about that?”

“Uh, yeah? Ya mentioned it at the training camp in high school, like, multiple times.” Ok, now he felt a liiiiitle bad for snapping at him. Sakusa just nodded and continued his exercise.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn't comfortable either. He can feel Miya’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother him.

“Yer not a bad setter…” Okay, that actually bothered him. He really disliked when someone interrupted his concentration. “Obviously, ya’ll never be as good as me! But I bet what happened on court was just ya overthinkin’”

Was this supposed to be some sort of compliment? From Miya? Where was the trick? Was it the start for some kind of teasing? Was he trying to amend things? 

“If you say so…” Where was he again? 237? 239? If he actually lost count, the next set was gonna be to the back of Atsumu's head. 

Wow, where did all this aggression come from? He was stressed . 

More  silence. This time Atsumu looked like he gave up on trying to…whatever he was trying to do. Okay, Kiyoomi, it’s your turn to try. It wasn’t your fault, but neither was Atsumu’s. This internal voice was annoyingly similar to Motoya’s. You should say you’re sorry. Or say that you didn’t mean it. Or say something at all. 

Say that he didn’t mean it. Okay. That was easy. He finished his set and looked at the owner of his worries. 

“You know, Miya…” at the mention of his name, the ex-blond lifted his head to look directly at him. Wow, how did anyone manage to have such a naturally annoying face? It made Sakusa's heart do a cartwheel inside him. 

“I know…?” Miya started, making the other realise he didn’t formally finish his sentence. 

What was he supposed to say? His pride was eating him alive. If he apologised to Atsumu there was no way the other would let live it down. 

“Kageyama has a sister…” What? He wasn’t the one who usually starts conversations, let alone this kind.  

“Okay…I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, and she’s a hairdresser…” Why was he saying that now? He was saving it for a good moment, one of their moments . The moments where they talk like they’re friends and gossip about anything and everything. Atsumu didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him a little confused at the sudden change of topic. “She’s dating one of  her clients”

“Huh?” Confusion kept showing in his face until it hit with realisation, suddenly noticing what was this about. “Ohhhh, well I guess It’s kinda common, ya’know? Ya talk a lot to the hairdresser and tell personal things”

“I guess so, but this one…is a model , like, a really big, famous, an international model”

Atsumu gasped at that. He felt for it. Satisfaction invaded Sakusa’s chest.

At some point after he joined the team, he realized that Atsumu really liked gossiping. He wasn’t one to cause trouble or was mean-spirited, more about the excitement of being in the know. Sakusa knew there’s something thrilling about hearing the latest news and sharing it with friends. While Atsumu  finds a unique satisfaction in knowing what’s going on around them, whether it’s the latest relationship drama or the newest celebrity rumour, Sakusa was more of the type who used gossip to take advantage of people’s weakness or tease them. He found superiority in knowing that people don’t know that he knows , and playing innocent. 

“Really? Oh God, how lucky! Who’s the guy? Show me his instagram!”

“That’s the best part, it’s a woman.”

For a second, like a really minuscule amount of time, Atsumu’s face turned into an expression that Sakusa couldn't decipher. But it happened so fast that the latter wondered if it really happened. 

“Being gay runs in the Kageyama family, then!” He smiled “Now, ya know who the girl is? I’m dying out of curiosity here.”

They sat down and started scrolling through Haiba Alisa’s profile. They talked about how beautiful the girl was and how a different personality Kageyama’s sister must have been compared to his brother to land someone like this. They made bets about how much time until the relationship becomes public and, knowing how dense the Adlers’ setter was, if he knew. 

Sakusa explained how he got his hands into this information, making the conversation a lot more interesting, introducing new material. Saying that someone , whose identity he rather not reveal (C’mon Omi! You can tell me all of this but not who started it?), was friends with the famous streamer Kodzuken, who was actually dating Kuroo-san, who kept in contact with the national Japan team’s libero, who’s currently coaching in Russia, who was friends with another really big, famous, international model that lives in Russia and happened to be Haiba Alisa’s brother, who discovered the relationship status when he walked them -no, not having sex- but deciding which breed of cat they should adopt together and what name it, which is the lesbian equivalent of asking for marriage. Oh, and they also kissed in front of him.

Somehow the conversation extended from that topic and ended in -like always-, celebrity drama. It wasn’t Sakusa’s favourite topic, he preferred to talk shit about people he actually knew, but he liked how excited Atsumu  could get, and the way he narrated the antics, introducing social media slang -which Sakusa wasn’t familiar of-, didn’t fail to make him laugh. 

Moments like this were Sakusa’s favourite interactions. It took him a lot of effort to get close to people, there are a lot of social cues to follow and he had a tendency of saying what he thinks. It’s not that he’s not aware of it, it’s just that he doesn’t care. It's a straightforward honesty that comes from a place of self-awareness and he prefers to keep things real and doesn't see the point in sugarcoating words. People tend to think that this attitude comes from a place of lack of sensitivity, or consideration for others' feelings. It may be that he doesn’t give much thought to others’ feelings, but he doesn’t have the intention to hurt others. Perhaps tease a little, remarking their stupid decisions, such as Atsumu’s or Bokuto’s, but nothing too harsh. 

Atsumu didn’t mind any of it, it might be because he's used to having a brother his age who can get tired of making fun of each other, and he didn’t force him to interact in a deep, vulnerable way. He also didn’t mind the lack of respect for social cues, mostly encouraging them -except for the stupid nickname he had for him-. The best part? Their interactions went back to normal when these conversations ended. There were no compromises, no obligation for small talk or compulsory going out for drinks. Maybe Sakusa was disappointed at the inexistence of the last one, maybe not.

They kept going until the gym’s door was slammed open, revealing a sweaty and seemingly frustrated Meian. They quickly straightened their backs and silenced themselves. Meian looked at them for a second, apparently confused that he wasn’t presented with a murder scene and instead they were showing content faces. 

“I thought I told you to stay away from each other.”

“Oh, Cap! We’re actually alright!” said Atsumu enthusiastically and smiling wide. Even if he was in Sakusa’s body, he could recognize the perks of Atsumu’s expression in his face, like the way his nose wrinkled slightly and his eyes and raised cheeks. It was nice seeing him smile, he would never admit it, but it was a little disturbing seeing his own face making such expressions. 

“Please stop smiling like that, Sak-” Kiyoomi sighed, did he really have to do this? He would prefer not to. “-Omi-kun. It makes me nauseous.”

“Hey! That’s mean! And if something is nauseous it is those sneakers! Who chooses neon yellow for footwear? Especially with that handsome blonde hair.”

“I don’t think the sneakers are the problem here, my hair does really need to be taken care of. This piss yellow hair is terrible, do you actually think I actually use violet shampoo?”

“What is violet shamp- Hey! It is a nice yellow!” 

A sharp clap of hands startled them and brought the attention back to the man in front of them. Both of them realised what situation they were in and bowed to Meian. A whispered sorry left both pairs of lips.

“Please, don’t start fighting again…or compliment each other aggressively, you seemed alright.” Meian brought a hand to his forehead, resembling his effort of thinking. “You are two adults who are having a bad day.” It wasn’t a question. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but seeing how you’ve been chatting so happily over there, I think I can assume that you are mature enough to resolve it by yourselves. Also, don’t bring your personal issues to the court, you have the ability to communicate for a reason.”

“Yes Captain.”

“Sorry Captain!” said both at the same time. 

“Good, now, since you had to step out of practice for a while, I suggest you-” the way he said suggest sounded less like advice and more like an obligation “to practice a little this weekend, apart from your usual workout routine.” 

Both men nodded and headed to the changing room. On the way, still unused to his new legs, Sakusa accidentally stepped on Atsumu’s feet from behind, in a way that made him pull off his sneaker making him trip a little.

“Omi-kun!” He regained balance and looked at him. 

“I’m…sorry. I really am.” It turned out weird. Like he wasn’t referring to what just happened. Okay, now this was his chance. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Nah, no biggie.”

“No, I don’t mean the shoe. Well, yes, sorry for that too, but…” Atsumu was still staring. Confusion was a feeling that didn’t suit his face, he took note to, once he regains his body back, try to look as unimpressed as possible. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you for what happened earlier, I just took my frustration out on you, I haven’t played setter since elementary school and it’s actually hard to do it in a professional team. Also, I know it is hard to get used to hypermobility, at first I didn’t know how to control it either.”

“Omi-omiiii, it’s okay. I, um, I…”  A constipated face didn’t look good on him either “I should apologize too, yer sets…..Aren’t. Half. Bad. 

The way he said it made Kiyoomi snort, like he was saying it against his own will. 

Atsumu flexed his hands, wincing. “Yer wrists—ow. How do ya not break these things off? I think I hyperextended three times today.”

Sakusa rubbed his shoulder. “You’re the one with busted knees. How do you even squat that low for so long? I’m pretty sure I felt something pop .”

Atsumu snorted. “Setters’ knees, baby. Built for sacrificin’ our bodies.”

Sakusa smirked slightly. “Yeah, well… I guess it’s not as easy as it looks.”

Atsumu blinked, processing the rare compliment. “…Wait, ya serious?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Sure, Miya” said as they kept walking.

“Wait, so ya admit that setting is a really hard position?! Like, the hardest of ‘em?!”

“Shut up before I make your body eat two entire soap bars.”

“So mean, Omi-Omi!”

…

When they got to the changing room, everyone was outside, as if they were waiting for them.

Or more likely, waiting for Sakusa. 

“Omi-san! You are finally here! I was about to go and shower in the apartment” For someone who was hit in the face by an olympic athlete, Hinata sounded rather enthusiastic. “I mean no offense, but I must ask you to take a quick shower, we’ve been waiting for you for a while now!”

Atsumu looked at him conflicted. The Jackals were really supportive, and once they heard about Sakusa’s preferences and mild-obsession with germs, they unanimously decided to let him shower first. It warmed Sakusa’s heart, he was nowhere closer to the team as the others from the monster generation, partially for his antisocial tendencies and partially for the fact that he didn’t really know how to approach his teammates in a way that doesn’t generate him discomfort or comes off as weird. But now, that kindness was a little bit of a problem. 

“Miya”

Whereas he preferred his actual body to wash before any people uses the showers, he doesn’t think that he could shower at the same time other people are-

“Miya, Miya-kun!”

-spreading all types of particles in the air, he can imagine it making him feel trapped in the small stall, where all the viruses and bacteria gets trapped, because of the steam, and wraps them in an infectious hug, and the walls start getting clo-

“ Atsumu!”

Right. He was supposed to respond to that name. He was too occupied spiralling. Everyone was looking at him, he didn’t understand why Miya was still there since he was supposed to be the first inside. He was making everyone wait.

“Yes, Omi-kun?” he tried to sound as casual as possible and not like the crazy, obsessive, suspiciously claustrophobic, mildly undiagnosed mysophobic that he was.

“Um, ya-you can shower in the dorms, you know?” Shower. Dorms. Yes, he could do that. He would have to drive all sweaty, and then get his car washed by professionals. It’s gonna hurt his wallet but it’s better than anything that could come from this. 

“Whatever. Good job guys, see you later. I’ll wait for you in the car, Omi.” 

Everyone seemed confused because of the interaction, probably mostly for the fact that they were driving home together, but Sakusa decided to ignore it.

For Atsumu, it was weird to have the bathrooms for himself. 

He made sure to make it quick, not wanting to inconvenience his teammates more but also making sure to take good care of Omi’s body. 

Ugh. Omi’s body. 

As athletes, they were used to seeing each other naked in the changing room, Sakusa was a bit more reserved, but there was nothing new to see. The difference resides now in the fact that he has free will to pay attention to details. Like, how every inch of skin was covered in some sort of mole or freckles, or noticing that it was the soap that Kiyoomi had in his bag, the responsible for the softness of his skin. Or how white and creamy his legs looked, or the fact that, even being a ripped volleyball player, his hip bones were prominent and he could feel them. Or, talking about that specific lower zone, how he was blessed by mother nature because his d-

Nope.

Straight thoughts, Atsumu.

Yer not gay, much less for yer teammate, the one that hates everything about ya except for yer tosses.

Ugh, there’s a chance he would prefer Kageyama-kun for that, tho.

He rushed himself in the shower, going to the locker room to get changed and making his teammates know that they can finally enter. 

Changing was less distracting than the shower. He let himself think about their current situation now that the hardest part of the day already passed. Was there a point for him to be in Omi’s body? What if they never change back? Sakusa insisted that it probably was a one day thing, that they’ll wake normally the next day. He would like to believe so, but given the fact that they tried that in the morning, he was not so sure.

Maybe he could tell someone? Sakusa dismissed the idea immediately, saying that the only thing it would get them is a ticket for life to the nearest psychiatric hospital. That sounded reasonable, but there has to be someone who will believe them. Perhaps those old ladies who claim to read your future from tea leaves? Kiyoomi would kick him for suggesting that.

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!” someone screamed, in a really shoujo way. 

“Oh my God, Shouyou ! You look radioactive!” the intonation used by Bokuto was one typically destined to cat-calling, but what kind of compliment was that?

Atsumu stopped brushing his hair and looked at the scene.
On the floor was Inunaki, hugging his legs and hiding his head between them, making small noises that sounded suspiciously like chuckles. Barnes had one hand covering his mouth like his life depended on it, and Adriah was in the middle of them with his hands on his knees bending a little. The three of them were shaking from laughter, with wide eyes and tears threatening to come out. Meian looked more tired than impressed, with a hand in his forehead while shaking his head as if he failed to control the situation. Bokuto’s character didn’t seem different than usual, a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm. In the center of the room was the cause of discord, Hinata Shouyou , Black Jackals’ wing spiker, dripping wet, towel hugging his hips, and a desperate look on his face. He was looking from his phone -supposingly, his reflection in the frontal camera-, to the back of a shampoo bottle from an unknown brand.

And boy, he had a reason to look that distressed. 

The usual orange locks that resembled the warmth of the sunshine from many people -or a human tangerine from others-, was replaced by a idiotic neon green.

It was the best thing that happened to him that day. 

Atsumu’s laughter erupted like a burst of fireworks, his mouth wide open in a broad grin, showing all his teeth as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. It was like it  had flipped a switch. Everyone that had been holding back their amusement let go at once, filling the air with a chorus of giggles and chuckles. Even Meian who had been trying to stay composed found himself grinning and then snorting out loud. 

“I don’t think I ever saw you crack that hard, Omi-kun!” said Bokuto, glooming in excitement. “You have a nice laugh! It reminds me of Keiji!”

Oh, to hear Kiyoomi laugh.
It was a challenge that he decided to accomplish once the former joined the team. He stole a few smirks and snorts, but nothing like this. Technically, he did it just now, but it didn’t count since it wasn’t the real Sakusa laughing. 

“It’s not funny!” Against his own predicament, Hinata’s face was betraying him, a timid smile arising and his eyes glittering. “I thought we said no more pranks in the gym! Those are reserved for our days off!”

“I don’t think it was a prank, Sho-kun,” Bokuto said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “What does it say in the shampoo bottle?” 

“Here,” Hinata handed him the bottle, “I don’t get it! This is a bottle from Kageyama-kun! He gave it to me because I  ran out of it.”

“It says here that’s shampoo hair dye, 3 in 1, lavender aromatizer.”

“But he doesn’t have this…alien hair!” He said, gesturing to his head.

“It is probably because he has black hair, Hinata” Atsumu opined. “His hair is so pigmented that it can’t absorb the actual pigment of the dye, in contrast to your ginger hair, which is relatively lighter and is allowed to absorb the dye.”

“You’re so smart, Omi-san! How do you know all that?”

 Oops

“Uh…I’ve got it…from Atsumu?”

“First name basis,  nice!”

Oops again. 

“You may want to buy a product that has alcohol in it, and also start using a conditioner since it dries your hair. Maybe if you wash your hair everyday it would look almost natural by the end of the week, but I don’t recommend it. If it’s light enough by the next weekend you probably can dye it back.”

“So, you and Tsum-tsum talk other than complaining about each other?” Bokuto completely ignored what he just said. 

“I thiiiink I shouldn’t make Miya wait any longer, so I should get going. Bye!”

Once on the street, the car of his teammate was nowhere at sight. He checked Sakusa’s phone to ask him where he was, when he noticed he already had texts from the aforementioned. 

From: Omi-kun

You were taking too long.
I had some errands to run, I’ll probably be late.
You have legs, walk home. 

What an asshole. 

…

The walk home wasn’t that bad. It actually helped refresh his mind and turn down the after practice fervour. 

He took account of something too. He was feeling a little thirsty and he forgot to refill his water bottle, so he stopped by a minimarket to buy something. Sadness invaded him when he noted they only had strawberry flavoured drinks from his favourite brand, until he realised this body wasn’t allergic to it. 

It came down to the point where he had twenty-three different products strawberry flavoured, half of them being ones he never tried. It may be a little excessive, but he can repay Kiyoomi later. 

Once he paid, he checked his bank account app, to check if he just drained his teammate's wallet. He was surprised to find that he had in fact that he had deep pockets. Damn, he knew the other wasn’t a struggling one, but he didn’t imagine him being this wealthy. 

He got home, put on his comfort show, and decided to test at least six elements of his recent haul, to pass the time. He was surprised to find the horrible neon sneakers that Kiyoomi decided to wear to punish him, for whatever reason, in the genkan. He was locked inside his (Atsumu’s?) room. He probably already left the shower, and knowing him, he was doing some kind of skin care routine. Atsumu decided to wait for him, mostly because he wanted to complain about the fact that he was abandoned after practice, mostly because he didn’t have anything better to do. He didn’t have anything scheduled except his yoga class with Sho-kun in the afternoon and his late night call with ‘Samu, so he didn’t worry when his eyelids started to fall. After all, Sakusa would probably be finished when those activities started.

Like most of the times he’s napped on the living room couch, he was woken up by Bokuto antics. 

“Damn, Tsum-tsum, do you have a license for that?”

“What for?” he could barely hear Omi’s voice.

“Well, you must need permission to look that hot ” 

Wow, thanks Bokuto.

“Yes, Atsumu-san! My choice for favourite setter is kinda biased now!”

“It always had been Shou-kun. May I ask if the green in your hair is intentional, though?”

“Oh, it’s a funny story actually. So, you see, I was at Kageyama’s-kun last weekend and…”

By the time Atsumu got up and stood by the kitchen entrance with his friends, Hinata was already wrapping up his story.
What caught Atsumu’s attention was the blond in front of him. Emphasis on blond . It was nothing compared to his homemade yellow bleached disaster. Now, his hair was a stunning shade of light blond, smooth and even catching the light with a soft, golden glow. 

After the initial shock, he also noticed that his, once messy and unruly hair, swept to one side, was now trimmed in layers with a more styled back look, with the front sections gently swept back to reveal more of his face. The hair still retains some of its original volume but is now controlled and styled with a clear direction.

Bokuto was right, he looked hot.

He hated it. 

Before he could complain, Sakusa was staring daggers at him. 

“The hell did you do to my- to your hair?”

“I could ask ya the same! How did you- when did you- and what about my hair? It’s perfectly fine! Right, guys?” He looked at Bokuto and Shouyou for aid. 

“Honestly, it’s a little messy, Omi-san.”

“I thought you were going for a more carefree style! I totally support you Omi-kun!”

“Ugh, that doesn’t matter, did I agree to this hairstyle change?” 

“You literally told me this morning that you didn’t care…”

“I wasn’t expecting you to do anything this drastic!”

“...as long as it does look good.”

“But how- why- it didn’t look that bad!” 

“It was terrible, I couldn’t keep going around with that horrible urine yellow.”

“It wasn’t urine! And it looked good! Handsome, precious, gorgeous!”

“It was ugly, ridiculous, despicable.”

“Ughh, I fucking hate ya.”

“Yeah? Did I do a good job then.” a smile crossed his face, daringly.

“I didn’t say that! Now, help me fix my hair or I'll use the Geneva Convention as a to-do list while looking like this!”

“Oh, look at you, attempting to look smart! Pity it’s just an attempt.”

Atsumu took his arm and redirected him to the rooms. The Are they fighting or flirting and the Since when does Tsum-tsum need permission from Omi-kun to change his hair style where completely ignored by both of them for their own sanity. If they kept concentrating about what other people think they were going to go insane in the span of 24 hours. 

They decided to stay in Kiyoomi’s room, since all the hair products were there.
Entering the bathroom, Kiyoomi started gathering the supplies: a sulphate-free shampoo, a rich conditioner, and a leave-in treatment, and Atsumu went for a quick rinse. He was still mad at what the other man did with his hair. He hated that he actually looked way better. Did Kiyoomi actually think he was ugly? He would get it back to him in some form. 

Once his curls were already damp, he sat in the toilet seat and waited for his friend to start. As he began, he noticed that his scalp was sensitive, even with the gentle touch Sakusa was using he couldn’t help but squirm a little under him. He parted Atsumu’s hair into sections, carefully applying the shampoo and massaging his scalp with his fingertips, making sure to avoid any harsh scrubbing. The warm water rinsed away the shampoo, leaving Atsumu’s curls clean but still full of their natural bounce. 

“So, how did you make my hair look this bad?”

“Huh?” He never had anyone touch him like this, with such tenderness and care. His hair was relatively straight, and easy to control. It had its bad days, but it was really easy to manage. What was happening now…it was really distracting.

“Did you even wash it, you scrub?” 

“ ‘Course I washed it! I even brushed it after!” 

“Did you brush curly hair?! What are you, a madman?” 

“Yer supposed to brush yer hair???”

“Not curly hair, you idiot!” the other man sighted. “And stop it with the kansai-ben.”

“But we’re alone!”

Next, Kiyoomi reached for the conditioner, applying it generously through Atsumu’s hair, focusing on the mid-lengths to ends. He used a wide-tooth comb to detangle, moving from the ends upward with gentle, careful strokes to avoid any discomfort. Atsumu winced slightly when the comb caught on a tangle, but Kiyoomi’s soothing touch and soft words of encouragement eased the tension. After a few minutes, he rinsed the conditioner out with cool water, the final rinse sealing the hair cuticles and enhancing the shine.

He was thoroughly explaining the steps of his routine, but Atsumu was too distracted about this new side of his teammate. He was using soft words. It’s okay, it’ll only hurt a little.  

With Atsumu’s hair still damp, Kiyoomi sprayed a leave-in conditioner generously through the curls, scrunching the product in with his fingers. He then reached for a curl cream, smoothing it through Atsumu’s hair to define each curl. Kiyoomi’s hands moved methodically, scrunching the curls upwards to enhance their natural pattern, making sure every strand was coated evenly with product, all while checking in with Atsumu to ensure he was comfortable.

Good, it was really getting to his head. He knew that Kiyoomi was only making sure he was okay because he knew his body, but the intimacy of the moment was making him all blushy.

“How did ya manage to make my hair look like that? Have ya gone to a hairdresser or somethin’?” He tried to start a conversation to distract his restless mind.

“Or something. I dyed it myself. It isn’t that hard really, maybe if you took the time to look it up you could be this good-looking all the time.”

“So do ya think I’m pretty?”

“Pretty annoying.”

“Hey!”

Kiyoomi set the blow dryer on a low heat setting and attached the diffuser, tilting Atsumu’s head forward. As he dried Atsumu’s hair, he gently scrunched the curls, the diffuser’s warm air helping to enhance the volume and definition without causing frizz. The room was filled with the gentle hum of the dryer and the occasional scrunch of curls, a ritual of care and attention. Atsumu occasionally winced when the dryer’s warm air touched a particularly sensitive spot, but Kiyoomi adjusted the heat and continued with a soothing touch, making sure Atsumu was at ease.

They already did this hair routine in the morning, before going to practice, but this time was different. Before, they were in a hurry, clearly distressed for the whole swapping bodies thing and their morning moodiness. Before, his mind was too occupied to pay attention to the way Sakusa was caressing him. 

“But seriously…how do ya know about this stuff?” 

“I took a hairdresser course in college.” That really surprised Atsumu. Out of all things, he didn’t expect this reserved man to take classes on something this lively. It doesn’t suit the stereotype of a talkative hairdresser, he could imagine the man being so blunt and telling his clients harsh things when telling them their lives. “In case you didn’t notice, my scalp is really sensitive, and I hate having other people touching me, so it was natural to learn how to cut it and style it.”

“Do ya like it? Doing it, I mean.”

“It’s kinda tedious, curly hair is really hard to take care of. And expensive.”

Once Atsumu’s hair was fully dry, Kiyoomi reached for a light curl-enhancing serum. He squeezed a small amount into his palm, warming it between his hands before lightly scrunching it through Atsumu’s curls. The serum added a beautiful shine, taming any stray frizz and giving the curls a healthy, glossy finish. 

“Doing your hair was fun, actually. Dying it, I mean.”

“Oh” 

Oh

 “Well, I guess I can ask you to do it from now on.”

“I don’t work for free, you know.”

“Well, maybe I can find another way to pay ya.” he said with a wink.

“Ew, disgusting!” he said with a shocked look on his face. Atsumu felt his ears turning pink.

“I don’t mean it like that! Ew! I mean, like, I dunno doin’ yer dishes or somethin’”

“I want a year's worth of your brother’s umeboshi onigiri,” he said, totally serious, “and I want you to stop whistling all the time. And stop leaving your alarm going for literal minutes instead of turning it off or snoozing. And turning on the AC instead of opening the windows. And doing that weird thing were you-”

“Okay, okay, I get it! I’m a bad roommate, geez. I don’t hear ya talkin’ like that about Bokkun or Shouyou .”

“Oh, don’t let me get started about those two. But among them, you’re the least worst.”

Atsumu’s head was spinning. Did the heat make him dizzy? Or was it a consequence of human contact? He was aware that he craved intimacy, and this intercourse was so delicate it felt like it was a woman’s care. Or maybe he was the girl, a princess being taken care of by his servants. 

Yep, it was definitely the heat.

Yoga wasn’t bad, Kiyoomi concluded. 

It was relaxing, indeed, and more difficult than he thought. He really appreciated the fact that Hinata was silent most of the class. He expected the redhead to be the energetic man he was whenever there was some kind of physical exercise involved, but he told him it helped him to calm down, working on his flexibility was a bonus.

He was lucky he was able to call off the video call programmed with Osamu, he had a really long day, and pretending to be Atsumu in front of the person who most likely knew him the  best would only make it worse. 

The night came, and he decided to get take-out. He didn’t have the best cooking skills, he knew he had to learn in order to be a capable adult, but he never had financial problems -less now that he’s a well-known pro volleyball player, even an olympic one-, so he wasn’t gonna start now. 

He hasn't talked to Atsumu since he finished doing his hair, and he wasn’t planning to do it unless necessary. He had socialized enough with the guy. Actually, he had enough socialization with everyone for the next two months. 

Apart from his fiasco attempt at being a setter, everyone was fixated on making him feel better by cheering him up with physical affection. It wasn’t that bad as he expected, per se, but all the attention was making his skin itch. Partially for his germaphobic tendencies, and partially because he occasionally envied how efficient Atsumu was in bonding with other people. Even with the way he comes across as cocky and provocative at first, he makes his way to demonstrate he’s, in reality, a charming guy. Not that he’ll ever admit it.
He’s content with his team relationship. His respect for his teammates' skills is still growing, and the supportive team environment helps him feel a sense of pertinence, but he knows he’s too far away from them doing more than tolerate him. At least, that’s how he feels. 

He finished eating and proceeded with his night routine. Hopefully, his prayers will be heard and tomorrow everything will be back to normal. 

…

Of course, nothing will ever go as Kiyoomi wanted. 

Maybe it’s his fault.
Maybe if he didn’t choose the Black Jackals he wouldn’t be having this problem. Maybe if he stopped playing volleyball in college -like his parents wanted-, and used his business degree, taking over the  family company like his older brother he wouldn’t be experiencing this absurdity. But the thrill of the game, the joy of spiking the ball with perfect precision, and the exhilaration of a well-executed play—these moments make him feel alive. He hates to admit it, even if he already knows, but he always thanks Motoya for introducing him to the sport.

He woke up once again in Atsumu’s room, in Atsumu’s clothes and in Atsumu’s body.
At least it was Saturday, they didn’t have practice and they wouldn't have to make a fool of themselves. 

He went on with his day, did his morning stretches so he doesn’t lose the habit and forced Atsumu to do so too. They talked about what they had planned for the day, taking a break to try to find an answer for what was happening and pretend everything was okay. He continued with his life, texting Motoya about the current rumours from the  EJP Raijin team.

At some point in the noon, he found the subject of his headaches sitting on the couch, watching what seemed to be an American rom-com and surrounded by a ton of snacks, with pink and red packaging. 

“Can you explain to me why I can’t leave you alone for a second that you’re messing up?”

“What did I do?! I’m just watching TV!”

“And eating a ton of crap!”

“Oh, c’mon, just have a cheat day! Everyone does it, even Bokkun!.”

“Bokuto doesn’t eat a month's worth of calories in one sitting! And what even is this? Why is everything strawberry flavoured?” He said taking one of the snacks in his hands and shaked it in front of his teammate. 

“...It doesn’t matter. Yer in really good form, anyways. Don’t tell me yer afraid of a lil fat.”

“What the hell, you're an athlete! I’m an athlete! At least tell me what makes you like this, are you high-strung or something?”

Atsumu looked away, clearly ashamed. What was wrong with this guy? He wasn’t usually one to break their diets, knowing how important was their protein intake. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but he didn’t want it to become habitual behaviour as long as Atsumu is in control of his body. He let out an exhale and sat next to him, not wanting to initiate an argument since he was having a very tranquil day. He inspected the food wrapping and took one piece, a pink marshmallow, and put it in his mouth. 

“Wait!” Atsumu jumped him, Sakusa was taken aback and tried to retreat, but strong arms held him in place. They struggled a little, and before he could object, Atsumu’s fingers were in his mouth. Kiyoomi was beyond surprised and gagged, saliva and the candy now in Atsumu’s hand. It was outrageous. On impulse, he pushed the man, and without being conscious of his own force, Atsumu ended up on his back on the couch with him on top. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing Miya Atsumu?!” He was upset, really upset. Fuck anything nice he did ever thought about the man. 

“I’m allergic to strawberries! I told ya! I literally saved our lives Omi Omi!”

“You could have just told me instead of violating me with your fingers!”

“Umm, guys…” at the entrance of the living room, there was a timid Bokuto, slightly flushed. “Do you…Is it a bad moment?”

“How long have you been there? You know, doesn’t matter, what do you want, Bokkun?”

“I just wanted to ask Tsum-tsum if you’re coming tonight, nothing else!” he looked uncomfortable “...Are you guys role playing?”

“What?” They said in unison. 

“You know, role playing! Like in that gay movie… ’Call me by your name’ ! You were calling yourselves each others’ names!”

Right. He just had filthy fingers in his mouth and now his teammate thinks he’s into some sort of sexual intercourse with the so-called Miya Atsumu. He would have preferred eating that candy to end his misery.

“Just…forget about it, Bokuto. And don’t. Mention it.” He tried to sound as intimidating as possible, knowing it was a vain attempt since Miya and Bokuto were close enough to not take it seriously. 

“Okay! But are you coming tonight? It’s a guys night!” This guy's night consisted on half of the team meeting for drinks, every time in a different bar, competing for the most stupid things. Last time ended with them baking a cake at 3 a.m. when they came back, which isn’t that weird if it wasn’t for the fact that they accidentally put Shouyou u's phone  inside of it. It was a miracle that it still worked after that, only crashing a little whenever someone calls, for some reason. 

“I’m not coming. I have a really important date with the pillow.” Bokuto's entire self seemed to deflate a bit at the statement, even his hair flattening a little.

“C’mon, it is fun! Even so, I’m coming too!”

“Don’t you know what ‘no’ means? No. And you’re not coming.”

“Omi-kun! You’re coming?! Shouyou would be so happy! I am so happy!”

“Wait, Bokuto, don’t…”

Before any of them could say anything, the man already left, leaving both of them alone. That’s when he noticed the compromising position Bokuto found them in. He retreated like every point of contact was on fire, he could feel the heat through his entire body, every inch of his skin turning red. Atsumu seemed to realise too because he retreated to and fixed his gaze to the forgotten movie.

“Not gonna say sorry”

“Me neither…”

“Ya almost killed me!”

“...also, I’m not going to the bar, and you aren’t too.”

“There’s no way I’m missing it, I always go. That’s when Meian is the funniest! He’s so cool…”

“Your crush on our Captain has nothing to do with me.”

“...and if I go while looking like ya, it’ll look like we’re getting along, and Coach and Meian will stop worrying about us. It’s a win-win!”

“If I go this once, then Bokuto would never leave me alone.”

“Fine then, then you’re gonna start coming every time!”

There was no way out of this situation, was there?

“Okay, just this once, and I’m doing it just to not raise any suspicions.”

“Great, Omi-kun! I’m going to my room to choose your outfit” He looked at him way too excited for something he does every free weekend.

“No, I’m dressing myself. You always choose stupid clothes.” He didn’t. Surprisingly, he had a keen sense of style, knowing how to balance proportions to hug his strong figure, and choosing the right colours to highlight his golden eyes. 

“I was gonna offer ya to choose for you too, but now I’m the one doing it.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna clean my room since you’re probably made a complete mess out of it.”

When Atsumu was about to come with a fierce comeback, he was already leaving.

When the time to go out came, he had previously showered and found a nice and simple outfit. For a second he was tempted to wear something cringy, just to irritate the man, but he preferred to keep the peace. He got out of his room and found Bokuto and Shouyou waiting for him. 

“Where’s Omi-kun?” He hated to indulge that stupid nickname, but he had to keep the appearances. 

“Oh, he sent a message saying he was gonna meet us there!” Shouyou was so excited that it almost seemed to tender Sakusa. “He said something about shopping and stuff.”

He didn’t give much thought into it. He didn’t give much thought into anything, actually. He was trying to come up with excuses to leave early, or planning to spend the night drinking in a corner. 

On the car ride, Hinata asked him three times if he was okay or if it was something bothering him. He didn’t understand why, he kept a low profile, not wanting to involve in the men’s antics because he knew he couldn’t be as charismatic as Miya, but he laughed at their jokes - genuinely , after all they were kiiinda fun to be around -, and answered any question they asked. 

They arrived at the bar, and ordered their respective drinks.
Meian, Bokuto and Inunaki engaged in an intense conversation about owls and Shouyou was complaining how they messed up his drink twice . Barnes suggested to play their classical drinking game, which consisted of taking a shot every time Bokuto mentions his boyfriend, but they resolved not to. Apparently, last time they did it was when the infamous cow on fire incident happened. Kiyoomi didn’t know what that was, since what happens in the bar stays in the bar , and he wasn’t present at the moment, but he was sure he didn’t want a demonstration.

“Oh. My. God.” the no-longer-redhead (now greenhead) exclaimed, catching all the attention to him, and then redirecting it to the door where he was pointing “Look who just came!”

Ah, so Miya finally came. He had to scold him for ruining his image by being late. He finally looked up from his daiquiri to look at him. 

Huh?

He was going to murder him.

Having an annoying twin, and pranks being one of his love languages, Atsumu had a talent on how to pester people.

So, having the green light to dress in Omi’s body and free access to his credit card, he just knew what he had to do.
Once he was abandoned by Kiyoomi to clean his room, he decided to go shopping. 

He walked down the street very confidently, wearing a mask, because he may be trying to be irritating, but he was not an asshole and he respected his teammate's condition. He had no idea where to shop, but he was sure he could manage himself. The first thirty minutes were really boring, he visited the most common shops and realised men’s clothes were really unoriginal and lacked style. He stopped in a café to have a drink and do some research. He found some luxury boutiques nearby, and also decided to ask Sunarin for aesthetic styles and makeup recommendations, him being his most fashionable friend.

When he found himself in front of the shop, he couldn’t help but feel excited. The boutique's facade is sleek and modern, with large glass windows that offer a glimpse of the opulence within. The entrance is framed by polished brass accents and an elegantly understated sign bearing the boutique's name in sophisticated, serif lettering. He never had the opportunity to buy trendy clothes, always focusing his allowance on sportive garments. Now that he was older and had a larger budget, he had bought a few clothes for his nights out that suited him, but nothing extravagant. 

He entered the shop, immediately enveloped by an atmosphere of luxury and sophistication. The boutique is spacious, with high ceilings and pristine marble floors that gleam under the soft, ambient lighting.

“Good afternoon, Mister, how can I assist you today?” Damn, he was already feeling filthy rich. The lady is impeccably dressed, and greeted him cheerfully with a warm smile. 

“Hi, umm, hello…” he didn’t think this through. He tried to recall what wealthy people say in the movies. “I would like to try your newest collection?” He cringed at the sound of his voice, forcing himself not to use his natal accent, any sign of confidence already vanished. 

“Sure, any item in particular?”

“Umm, all of it?”

“Of course. May I offer you a glass of champagne or sparkling water?” 

Oh, he was going to love this.

…

He ended up visiting various shops, arms holding several bags from five diverse establishments.

He may or may not have picked a few items for himself. Some of these bags belonged to cosmetic stores, as he wanted to try wearing makeup. He was not going to use it for the night, but since he was a child he really liked the idea of wearing some. He actually played with his mother’s products, but he was discouraged early by both her and Osamu. They stated that real men don’t wear makeup and it makes them look weak, apart from being superficial and only for vain people. It wasn’t until Sunarin transferred to Inarizaki that the thought crossed his mind again. 

The first time they met, he was wearing an intricate eyeliner, emphasising his fox-like features. Seeing he was never criticised by his brother, he felt a bit relieved. Turns out, Osamu didn’t even notice his friend was wearing makeup until they had a sleepover and Suna came out of the shower looking natural. Shockingly, he didn’t react that bad, his only comment being that he was the only man that looked good on it. 

Now, it wasn’t going to be Atsumu the one wearing it but Kiyoomi. So, no judgement here. 

It was late when he finally got back to the dorms, his friends gone by now. He bought three different outfits, since he couldn’t decide on one, trouble residing in the fact the man was way more appealing than he expected. Everything looked good in Kiyoomi’s body, and it was driving him crazy. He changed into the least scandalous outfit, feeling a little self conscious and guilty. He tried and failed at makeup, it being more difficult than he anticipated. It could be worse, but he opted to leave it out, not wanting to cover Omi’s more remarkable and attractive feature, his moles. 

He was finally content with his attire and he called a taxi and mentally prepared himself for the show.

Oh, and the reaction from Kiyoomi was totally worth it.

He was going to murder him. 

His eyes widen in disbelief, mouth slightly agape as he processes the unexpected scene unfolding before him. A quick glance around the room confirms he’s alone in his discomfort, everyone seeming thrilled by the man’s appearance. 

“Damn, Sakusa-kun, if we knew you would look this good every time you go out we should have forced you early.”

He didn’t look good. He looked ridiculous.

As Atsumu walks in, all the eyes are on him. His ensemble is nothing short of spectacular. A figure-hugging black top and a really low V-cut neck, showing more skin than necessary, and not so is subtly highlighting his physique. It’s sharply cut, fitting snugly around the chest, and tapering at the waist, clinging to his curves. Low waist, black leather, tight pants reach just below the hip bones, providing a defined silhouette. 

He’s wearing a silver watch, and for a moment he remembers all the chattering from his father, who was obsessed with the kind of accessory, and thinks he would be proud of the choice. Almost imperceptible, but impossible to escape Kiyoomi’s scrutinising gaze, there’s his perfectly manicured nails. It was the least drastic thing in the outfit, and the only thing he didn’t dislike. 

The final kill was a fur shawl draped over his shoulders, tiger print, adding an extra layer of opulence.

The complete look screamed dramatic, somewhat resembling a modern genderbend mob wife aesthetic, that he could find in one of Motoya’s Pinterest boards, and somewhat new rich. 

The sight makes him squirm in his seat, cheeks flushing with a deep, uncomfortable red. He shifts uncomfortably, fingers drumming nervously on the armrest, as he tries to decide what to do about the spectacle unfolding before him. He feels the cringe and irritation intensifying with every moment that passes, hoping the world will swallow, not him but Atsumu, whole.

The man walked to them, and greeted all of those present. Once he has his now declared worst enemy in front of him, he lets his face say it all for him. It doesn’t appear to work, since Miya is smiling wide. 

“Hiiiii, Atsu-kun…”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“...dontcha think I look handsome?”

“Fishing for compliments? How lame, don’t make me look like that.”

Atsumu ignored him, sat in the middle of them and ordered a drink. Before he could introduce himself in any conversation, Sakusa yanked him and whispered in his ear. 

“You have ten minutes to find a way to change this ridiculous outfit before I kill you, cut you in pieces, and send a part to every one of your relatives. Except your brother. He’s more normal than you.” He wasn’t, he just liked to tease him. 

Atsumu just laughed at him. Kiyoomi groaned and took off his coat and handed it to the other man, mentally thanking himself for wearing it, even if it’s not that cold. His expression was suddenly filled with surprise, and even a small blush that didn’t fit him at all.

“Oh, God, get a room you guys!”

“I can’t believe just two days ago you were about to cut each other’s limbs and now you are shameless flirting!”

“Well, at least now we have the answer for all that tension.”

“It’s the outfit's fault, Meian-san! If I weren’t so in love with Keiji, I would shoot my shot too!”

At the mention of the manga editor, everyone at the table took a shot.

“I thought we weren’t playing!” complained Bokuto. 

Kiyoomi didn’t think about the implications of his own actions, and now he feels like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t have a chance to defend himself now that his teammates were now engaging in other nonsense. He tried to calm himself down, knowing there was nothing else he could do. 

Against his own expectations, the night went on normally, even kinda fun.
It was weird seeing his usually so serious Captain being so laid-back and cheerful, Inunaki and Barnes' playfulness heavily encouraged by Shouyou 's humorous stories, and Bokuto and Thomas playing a drinking game -which was stupid since it was only the two of them involved-. Only he and, surprisingly, Atsumu weren’t involved in any mischievous activity. He wondered if he was always like this, sitting silently and laughing at his friend’s jokes, or if it was just because he was in Kiyoomi’s body.

Just when he thought the night was going well, and he finally let his guard down, thinking he was playing safe, the common instigator of shenanigans approached them. 

“Atsumu-saaaaan! Let’s dance together, you’re the most fun to dance with!” Hinata suddenly approached him. 

“Shouyou , you wound me!” 

“Bokuto-san, you’re fun too, but no one can shake their hips at American songs like Atsumu-san! Also, you’re too drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

Bokuto was clearly drunk.

And Atsumu was red . 

“Miya doesn’t- does not want to- to dance tonight” The man stuttered, words slurring from his lips. Was he drunk ? 

“Did I fucking ask you?” Kiyoomi bickered, and Atsumu gave him a fierce glare. Then he changed his tone to a more friendly, almost flirty one. “Is that so, Shou-kun? Do you think they’ll put on my favourite song?” 

“I could ask! Everyone likes Britney Spears!” At that, Atsumu whined and hid his face in his hands, only pink ears showing. Kiyoomi smiled, feeling satisfied with himself. “I could ask for Taylor Swift for you, Omi-kun! I know it’s not that danceable but since it’s your first time with us I want you to feel comfortable!”

It was Kiyoomi’s turn to blush now. 

“ Taylor Swift!? ” Atsumu half-screamed half-whispered. Hinata left the two men, presumingly to ask about the music. “That’s like, the whitest white western girl. ”

“I won’t mention anything if you don’t either.”

“Deal.” 

The man still seemed at ease, Kiyoomi leaned into Atsumu and whispered “Keep calm, there’s no way I’m dancing. No amount of second hand embarrassment is worth it”

“Ya know I will follow ya and shake my ass to those brazilian songs Shouyou likes” The other man said, head now on the table.

“Whatever you say, Britney,” Miya groaned. “If I knew you came here to do stupid things I may have passed by more often.”

At that, Atsumu glanced at him, lips slightly curving teasingly. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing, and looked a little glossy “So ya wanna see me dance, Omi-kun?”

“Don’t call me that in public.”

“C’mon, there’s no one around!” He said while drifting through the bar “I bet ya secretly now how to dance! That hypermobility of yers should help!” He pulled an arm around his shoulders clumsily, almost falling from his chair. 

“And I bet that’s ableist in some way. Did you really get drunk?” 

“I’m not drunk! You’re just a lightweight! I only had three glasses of tequila…” His head was now on his shoulder, face looking directly at his side profile. The alcoholic aroma hit him.

“Tequila?!” He said panicking a little, now facing the man. 

“Yes! My favourite drink! And guess what, Omi-kun?” 

“I don’t do well with tequila, I’m surprised you didn’t throw up yet.” 

“They had red berries flavoured! That’s like ten times better than just strawberries!” He said totally ignoring the other and sipping from his glass “Right now I’m so happy about the body swap thing, I get to eat the amount of strawberries I couldn’t in 27 years of my life…!”

“From tomorrow I’m banning strawberries from your diet.” 

“…Also, I’m like, super flexible. And when I went to buy these clothes, the worker there couldn’t stop complimenting my skin! You have to share yer skin-care routine. Yer skin is super tender! And pretty too! Did ya know ya have three moles in a triangle form on the right side of yer back and-and yer legs look really good, it’s a shame ya cover them with those compression sleeves, but they accentuate yer thickness and taking them off I felt like a Victorian man seeing an ankle…”

“Okay! Okay. I think that’s enough information” Kiyoomi could swear all seven litres of blood that the average human adult had in his body were redirected to his face, neck and ears. He was used to compliments, and he knew he was a conventionally attractive man, but he couldn’t help but get all flustered. “I think that’s my cue to take you home.”

“So straightforward Omi-kun! You didn’t even buy me a drink!” 

“Stop saying stupid things, and technically, I’m paying for all your drinks. Can you walk normally?”

“The floor looks a little uneven…”

Just what he needed. 

…

Atsumu did throw up.
Thankfully not on his clothes nor the cab. Not so thankfully, it happened at the entrance of the dorms. Sakusa felt really sorry for whoever had to clean it first thing in the morning, because right now he had to deal with the man in his body.
Now both of them were in Kiyoomi’s bathroom waiting there until Atsumu felt better, just in case he wanted to throw up again.

“I can feel the strawberry coming back again. It’s so weird” Atsumu said, sitting on the floor next to the toilet. He sounded miserable. 

“That’s utterly disgusting, please refrain from describing what your vomit tastes like.” 

“Ughh, my head hurts, I’m never drinking again.” 

“Not while you are in my body you are not.” He gave him the glass of water he was holding and the painkiller. 

“You know what was fun?” He said, then drinking. “That bartender making fun of Shouyou ’s hair.”

“Yeah, kinda. The girls were kinda mean, though.”

“Do ya think he’d have to play like that at Friday's match?” 

“Well, at least he would be a great decoy.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, enough for Kiyoomi to think the man had fallen asleep hugging the toilet. 

“Was tonight  that terrible? Yaknow, since ya hate going out and everything.”

“It had its highlighted moments. You were right about Meian, he’s fun to watch drunk.”

Atsumu opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly closed it. His expression morphed from amusement to some sort of preoccupation.

“We…we have a match…on Friday” a sense of urgency invaded his voice.

“Yes…and?”

“No. No, ya don’t understand Omi. We. Have. A. Match. On Friday ”

Kiyoomi’s face looked like a deer caught in the lights. It was an awakening moment for him.  

“Oh my God, you’re right. How the fuck are we going-”

“I don’t know!”

“What about the-”

“I have no idea either!” 

“But the-”

“Look, dude, I have no idea how to solve this, but we have to take some measures in case we don’t switch back.” God, how could Miya be in an intoxicated state and be the voice of reason? Things were bad . “From tomorrow we’re gonna try stuff to get things back to normal.”

“Okay, and just in case we’re going to do extra practice.” 

Miya looked at him confused.

“What? We need to practice in case we don’t make it on Friday.” 

“Don’t even suggest it! Yer gonna jinx it!”

“Oh my God, I’m trapped with a child.”

“Ya can accept the whole body swap thing but not jinxing?” 

“Shut up, it seems that you feel better now, so I’ll stop babysitting you and I’m going to sleep. You should do the same.”

“Goodnight, Omi-kun!”

“Goodnight, Miya.”

The next day, Atsumu was already used to waking up in Kiyoomi’s room. 

He was hungover, but it wasn’t that bad. He was never going to drink any strawberry flavoured alcohol, he could still feel the taste mixed with bile even though he washes his teeth. A thing that warmed his heart was that he found painkillers and a glass of water in the nightstand. 

Practice was okay, at least this time Sakusa didn’t make the rookie mistake of double touching the ball. He still couldn’t do synchronized attacks, but it was better than before. On his side, Atsumu was getting used to his extremely flexy wrists. Kiyoomi has taught him how to stretch them without hurting and warming exercises. Kiyoomi’s wrist must be a sensitive spot in his body, because whenever the other man touched them, he found himself wondering if the temperature in the room suddenly turned up. Jump serves weren’t at their best too. Apparently, their two centimeters difference messed up his calculations on how high he should jump for the ball or for blocking.

Blocking was another thing he was messing up. He either jumped too high or was too slow.

“Try to read the hitter better next time,” Sakusa said to him.

Try ti riid thi hittir bitter nixt time As it was that easy. Sakusa was messing his blocks too, so he was none to talk. This body was way too tall and that’s it.

During their next match, Atsumu, still in Sakusa’s body, attempted a spike. The angle was perfect, yet the timing felt… off. He barely clipped the ball.

How does he make this look so effortless? he thought, shaking out his arm. The control and discipline it took to manage Sakusa’s powerful hits was overwhelming.

Later, while watching Sakusa set with his body, he noticed the precision—the way his hands moved just enough to position the ball perfectly for Bokuto.

It’s not just about tossin’ the ball. He makes it easier for everyone else.

Atsumu muttered under his breath, “Damn… he’s good.”

He couldn’t help but to think about last night.
Last night was fun, he got to spend time with the team and Omi-kun . Happiness overflowed him with the thought of it happening more often, since Bokuto won’t stop bugging the man to assist every team bonding night. They didn’t do much, just sat there and whispered, potentially slandering their drunk teammates a little. It was fun. Kiyoomi was fun.

“Sakusa! Pay attention to the game!” Meian called him out. 

He was a little distracted. He was used to thinking a lot of things at the same time while playing, being a setter and all, he has to be taking account of everything.
It wasn’t only the flashbacks, but the compression sleeves were giving him an itchy feeling in his legs. Maybe he could take them off, it’s not going to change his play just for one practice day.
Also, he really liked Omi-Omi’s legs. 

Just like he told him the night before, his skin was really tender and soft, and the compression sleeves accentuated the thickness of the meat, and the way it clinged to his thighs-

Wait.

Just like he told him?!

Realization hit him like a truck, and unfortunately, it hit him in the middle of a jump.
He was supposed to spike the ball, it was even a good ball from Kiyoomi, but instead he froze in the air ignoring it, and felt his toes hitting the ground again. 

He bends his knees, hands covering his now carmin face and  groans in embarrassment.

“Omi-san! Is something wrong?” Hinata approached him, making sure not to touch him. 

“No Hinata, I- I just…forgot to spike the ball?” God, that sounded really stupid, but Shouyou  laughed. “I’m so sorry! I’ll put my mind in the game now!”

“Gahh! That happened to me a lot in high school when I got too excited from Kageyama’s set!” Hinata was taking it lightly, but he could feel all the judgemental stares directed at him, especially the dirty look Kiyomi was giving him. Miraculously, he didn’t say anything nor approached him like he’d regularly do.

He could think about his drunk thoughts and particular tendencies later, now he had to concentrate on practice given there’s an upcoming match, and they don’t know in which body they’ll be playing. 

Apart from his biggest humiliation, practice ended normally. He was stretching, when Sakusa finally decided to talk to him. 

“After showering, let’s eat together and get back to practice, I don’t want you to humiliate me that way again, especially in the middle of a match.”

“You want to eat with me?” Atsumu looked at him in disbelief. 

“You are focusing on that ? Yes, I want to eat together so we can discuss what we can do to… you know.” He gestured to the both of them, referring to their current situation.

“Okay, yeah, we can do that!” 

…

Eating with Omi-kun was not as easy as it seemed. Even when Atsumu had in mind his selectiveness with food and cleanliness, they were struggling to get to an agreement.
Kiyoomi wanted to buy take-out, go back to the dorms to eat it, then go back to the gym to practice. Atsumu complained they’d spend more time in the car than actually eating. They resumed their conflict by sorting it as adults, by playing rock, paper, scissors. 

After Atsumu celebrated in a way too exaggerated manner for a kids game, he resolved to eat in a park nearby the gym. It was noon, and the park was empty since most people were eating lunch  in their own homes. 

“If a pigeon poops in my food I’m making you eat it, Miya.” Said the man while cleaning the bench with  tissue and alcohol.

“Oww, Omi-kun wanna share food with me? How romantic.”

“Disgusting.”

They sat and ate in silence. Atsumu had a chirashi sushi bowl, which consisted of a mix of sushi rice, fresh fish, and an array of vegetables. On the other hand, Kiyoomi had chicken teriyaki. 

It was nice, the birds chirping and the sun hitting him just right, not being a bother to his eyes, feeling the delicious warmth on his skin. There was no breeze, but it wasn’t necessary, the weather was just nice, and it would be rather troublesome with their food wrappings. The food was tasty, even though Atsumu was used to the quality rice from Kita’s farm. He was used to sharing his bentos with his brother and Suna in high school, but he knew better to offer the other man food that has already been touched.

He focused now on the man next to him. They were supposed to talk, to do some kind of brainstorming to get out of the situation they were in, but it seemed like neither of them wanted to break the bubble they were in now. It was the most peaceful time they’ve had together in a few weeks. Atsumu didn’t know specifically why, but they had been having quarrels more often, it was like when Omi first entered the team and they couldn’t get into each other's dynamics.

There was something about the man that was bothering Atsumu.
It wasn’t the snarky comments, he was used to that, and even encouraged it since it was fun having something resembling what he had with his friends at Inarizaki. He enjoyed pushing other people's buttons. But the man was being colder than usual. At first he thought he was finally breaking his core, getting more than a two word response from the man and even some snorts -at his own expense-, but suddenly he closed over himself again, like he noticed he was letting someone in. 

Besides, he has found himself irritated at Sakusa’s perfectionism and obsession with his own abilities. He carries himself with an air of superiority, constantly looking down on others, especially when they don’t meet his high standards. It’s not like the man is wrong about his capacities, and that is what drives him crazy.

Atsumu can deny that he can find himself in Kiyoomi, having a tendency to belittle others, and his smug demeanour can make him appear condescending, especially when he mocks or undermines his teammates and opponents. He knows other people consider him irritating too, but he’s sure is not in the same way he feels about Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Because Kiyoomi may be obnoxious and overconfident, but that was just because he was a good, no, an excellent player. He may be dismissive and condescending, but Atsumu couldn’t help but to find that endearing, the thrill of the bickering, the satisfaction of winning an argument. He seemed apathetic, not caring about others’ feelings, but he noticed that the man had a tendency to make himself useful whenever he could. Like, how he always carries a bag full of pharmacy supplies, like bandages and the basics from a first aid kit, apart from spare masks, and always was the first to offer these things when needed. 

Yeah, Sakusa was really annoying. 

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Huh?”

“You keep staring at me with that stupid expression of yours”

“Hey!” Atsumu was mentally searching for a retort when the other man looked at something behind him with a sign of disgust. It was a weird expression on Atsumu’s face, mostly because it was remarkably Kiyoomi-like. “What?”

“How can you go out wearing that ?” He gestured to a woman who just got into the park with two children. 

“What’s wrong with tha’ lady’s outfit?” Atsumu played dumb just to contradict him for the fun of it, the outfit didn’t look good at all indeed. 

The combination of clothes was wild, clashing fabric patterns that failed to harmonize. It consists of a thigh tank top, neon tiger print, paired with a long skirt in a busy, multicoloured floral pattern, with oversized flowers in clashing colours, like pink, orange and a dark blue. Both of the patterns  compete for attention rather than complement each other. The skirt is an asymmetrical A-line cut, with uneven hem lengths that do not align well with the fitted top. Her dyed blonde hair cascades on his shoulders, adding another layer of colour to the complete outfit.
To make matters worse, the lady is wearing a long, loose brown coat, which competes with the length and flow of the skirt, resulting in a cluttered look.

“Oh, sometimes I forget you that the only things you have in your wardrobe are sport clothes”

“Hey, I have nice clothes too! And that maybe that woman is going for a gyaru style”

“Do you even know what gyaru means?”

“Umm, animal prints and dyed hair?” 

Sakusa huffed at that, then inhaled and said “It’s a subculture that originated in the ‘70s, mainly characterized by  high platform shoes, dramatic makeup with heavy eyeliner, and big, voluminous hairstyles. The makeup is the major part of the look -think thick false eyelashes, circle lenses to make the eyes look bigger, and often a tan to contrast with the typically whitewashing fashion norms.”

“Wow, yaknow a lot about this thing.”

“My sister went through a lot of identity crisis during her teens and used me as a model to practice different makeup styles. I’m just good at remembering stuff she read out loud from her magazines.”

“Waaa, that’s so cool! I wanna see child Omi with makeup!”

“Over my dead body.” Atsumu laughed at the seriousness of his tone. 

“So, do ya know about any other ‘subcultures’ from yer sisters?” 

“Why do you want to know?”

“I like hearing ya talk” He found himself saying it without thinking, but he didn’t mind, it was true after all. Sakusa Kiyoomi was a quiet man and getting more than a sentence from him felt like a notable achievement. 

Sakusa's eyes widened for a second, almost unnoticeable, and then looked away. Atsumu thought he wasn’t going to indulge, he was content anyways. 

“There’s obviously classics like lolita or decora , but my favourite is something called kawaii feminism or something like that. Basically, it makes a statement on reclaiming femininity…” 

And with that, they spend the rest of their lunch chatting, mostly with Kiyoomi rambling and Atsumu asking stuff or asking for pictures. The other man kept his serious tone, like he was reading out of Wikipedia, but his eyes betrayed him with glimmering and sparkles. Atsumu was wondering how lucky he was to get to know another side of Omi-kun, apart from the volleyball obsession everyone in the monster generation shared, and his undiagnosed mysophobia, he didn’t know much about him.

Maybe just little details, like how he preferred tea leaves instead of tea bags, or how whenever they had to travel he chose the seat that’s being hit by the sun, or how he complained that sometimes tap water changes flavours (isn’t it supposed to be flavourless?) and how he pretended to be bothered by Bokuto’s music in the afternoons but if you pay close attention you can find him humming to LiSA. He was a setter, after all, and he pried himself in being pretty observant with his spikers. Maybe knowing how Kiyoomi liked his toast wouldn’t help much on the court, but he liked to bond with his teammates, especially being far away from home. 

“Ya know, we completely forgot about…” Atsumu gestured to the both of them, not wanting to be specific out loud in case a pedestrian heard them, even if the park was almost empty, “...this.”

“Yes, so, do you have any ideas?” 

None of them emitted any words. 

“Maybe we have to buy protective charms or amulets?” Sakusa suggested. 

“We can try that I guess.” Atsumu didn’t sound pretty enthusiastic. “Do ya think we should sprink the entire apartment with salt and soybeans?”

“That’s for evil spirits, you idiot.”

“And what makes ya think this isn’t a spirit doing? We know nothing about this!”

The other man ignored him. 

“Maybe we have to touch?” 

“We already touched plenty of times these days.”

“No, I mean- Why did ya have to word it like that? I mean, like, touching our palms or doing a special pose.”

Kiyoomi smirked teasingly “If you wanted to hold my hands so badly you just had to ask, Miya. I know being single doesn’t do you well.”

“Oh yer insufferable.”

“Thank you, I could say the same.” He extended his palms in front of Atsumu “Are we doing this?”

“Sure” He said as he rested his hands on Kiyoomi’s. 

Having exchanged bodies, Kiyoomi had time to inspect Atsumu’s hands, but it was completely different comparing them to his own. His skin was tanner, slender fingers, longer than his own, probably from being a setter. His hands were rough, with sharp edges compared to the pale narrow fingertips and subtle knuckles, their form defined by well-developed muscles and sinews, and his fingertips slightly calloused from countless hours of practice, a testament to their dedication and hard work.
Both of their palms were broad and strong, and their nails really well taken care of,  kept short and practical, minimizing the risk of injury or interference with the ball.

Their hands looked good together. 

“This is doing nothing” 

“Maybe we should wait a little more?”

They waited. 

Nothing happened.

Well, what did happen was that Kiyoomi started to feel warm with every second that passed. He retreated his hands like it was the skin-on-skin contact that was burning him and applied alcohol in his hands. Thankfully, Atsumu didn’t comment on it. 

“We should head back to the gym to practice, this is futile.” 

“C’mon, we didn’t even try anything!” 

“Let’s do something else later.” None of them moved from the park bench.

 “You… you actually work harder than I thought.” Sakusa finally broke the silence.

Atsumu blinked. “Huh?”

Sakusa looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Setting, it’s… more demanding than I gave you credit for.”

Atsumu gave a small, genuine smile. “Same goes for spikin’. Yer shoulders are killin’ me. I’m gonna need ice packs on my ice packs” he joked.

They exchanged a brief, mutual nod—understanding passing between them, even if neither said another word about it, then went back to practice.

Kiyoomi had made a mistake. 

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be preparing tea for Atsumu.

Practice went well, now he was confident in his setting skills, at least he knew how to set for Atsumu. One out of nine players. Yeah, it was better than nothing. They had to finish early because rain was coming.

That wasn’t the problem. 

It was already afternoon, he was making strawberry tea, in fact. He went to five different stores looking for something special. He was really putting effort into this. 

He knocked the door to the other man’s room, reviewing the situation that led to this. 

“Omi-kun? Is somethin’ wrong?” Atsumu opened the door, clearly confused by the sudden approach.

“I made some tea, and I have some snacks…” he paused, cringing at the sound of his voice “do you want to share them with me?”

“Is this some trick question?”

“No…?”

“That sounded utterly suspicious.”

“Okay, you know what, I won’t give you any.”

“No, no, no, no, no, wait!” 

“Too late, Miya”

“C’mon! I was watching the last match from the EJP Raijin, we can watch it together!”

Sakusa just nodded and went to the living room where the food was. They sat on the couch, without muttering another word.
Kiyoomi wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Scratch that, he knew he had to say something, at least explain why the ball of sunshine of their team hated him.

Hinata Shouyou, who liked and was liked by everyone, whose energy tends to encourage and bring the best out of players, not discriminating between teammates or rivals. The boy who maintains a cheerful and optimistic outlook, even in difficult times, and relishes the opportunity to face strong opponents. Yes, that one hated him. 

Well, perhaps hate was a strong word. But being used to his enthusiastic self, when he was treated with a cold shoulder and the honorific was said in a more formal way than before, he knew he fucked up.

“Oh my god this tea flavour reminds me of the tequila from the other night, I think I’mma throw up.” Great, and now he fucked up his nice gesture too. 

“I can make normal tea if you want.”

“Nah, that’s fine, I’ll just stick to water.” He said, refocusing on the match on the TV.

Why did he feel guilty? It’s not like him to not say the things he thinks, and if he had been in his own body Hinata wouldn’t be mad. Probably.
But  he made the younger man upset at Atsumu. Even if he considered the man arrogant and self centered, he knew both of them had a strong friendship, and he didn’t want to meddle into that. He considered Atsumu a good man too, even if there was no way he’s saying it out loud, so he didn’t deserve the slander.

What happened was simple. After they came from extra practice, it started raining really bad. He decided to pass the time cleaning the floors, since he was the only one who did it correctly and everyone else was in their rooms. When he was almost finished, he heard the door opening, and someone cursing and whining.
Hinata just came, completely drenched, and with him he wet the just cleaned floor. His expression was completely blank, like he came from hell and back and nothing surprised him anymore.

“Hinata Shouyou !” Kiyoomi whined “I just cleaned the goddamn floor!  What the hell happened to you?” 

“I’m sorry Atsumu-san, I promise I’ll clean once I get changed. It’s just, I fell asleep during the train ride back from Miyagi and I didn’t have my phone to call a taxi so I had to walk in the middle of the rain.” Every word that came out of his mouth was accentuated with exhaustion, sounding like he wanted the day to end. 

“Geez, don’t worry, I’ll clean it, again . Just make sure to take better care of yourself, don’t want to bring back Mr. I Got A Fever And Got Benched.” Kiyoomi tried to joke to light up the situation. It clearly didn’t work because Hinata just stared at him. 

God, who knew the 172 centimeter man could be so scary. His face didn’t show the characteristic signs of anger, like a furrowed brow or narrow eyes. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, the shadow cast over his face and how clear his eyes looked, making Kiyoomi feel a sense of uneasiness. It was like he was looking through him and not at him.

“ Of course, Atsumu-san , I know how to take care of myself. Thank you for worrying.” The entire sentence was said with a passive-aggressive tone, and he left, supposedly to change and take a bath. 

“So…” Kiyoomi started, coming back from the reminiscent of events. Atsumu's gaze did not leave the TV “I may have or may have not ruined your reputation. A little bit. Not like it existed in the first place.” 

“I knew it! You wouldn’t be this nice to me if you didn’t do something!”

“Exactly, so, going straight to the point…” Before he could finish the sentence and end with his sense of culpability, the object of his worries entered the room. 

“Omi-san!” Hinata’s face darkened when he noticed the other man in the room. “Atsumu-san…” He greeted him out of compromise. “I was waiting for you for, like, fifteen minutes!”

“Do we have something scheduled…?”

“What do you mean? It’s Monday, our day!” 

Atsumu looked at Kiyoomi with a mixture of confusion and surprise. 

“Just go.”

“He doesn’t need your permission, Atsumu-san. He’s a capable man to look over for himself.” Hinata said with an overly polite smile. 

“What the fuck” Atsumu muttered while standing up and following the shorter man. 

Great, now he was going to find out by Hinata instead of him. 

…

Atsumu didn’t know their destination and all, so he made some excuse about his vision being tired lately, excusing him from driving. Hinata was taking them somewhere, following the Google Maps GPS, which was apparently guiding them to the other side of town. The opposite hitter was chatting about how he met his best friend's girlfriend the day before, and how cute they were together. 

Atsumu wasn’t paying attention, instead, he was furiously texting Sakusa.

To: Omi-kun

Yer friends with Sho-kun!?!?

From: Omi-kun

Yes?
And?

To: Omi-kun

He’s like
In yer own words
So fuckin’ loud

From: Omi-kun

Half of the team is and I keep playing here

To: Omi-kun

But ya don’t spend time with us unless it’s necessary?
Why Sho-kun?

From: Omi-kun

Name one person who doesn’t like Hinata
I dare you

To: Omi-kun

Hoshiumi-kun? 

From: Omi-kun

They literally hugged last match

To: Omi-kun

What about that blondie from the Sendai Frogs?
No, wait, they’re like besties from high-school
Damn, this game’s hard

From: Omi-kun

See? Everyone likes Hinata
I’m not exception
Don’t tell him that tho

To: Omi-kun

Imma tell him that I love him
Omi-kunnn where am I going? 

Omi-kun?
…Omi?

Sakusa stopped answering, and they just finally arrived at their stop. Atsumu looked horrorized at the building in front of them. 

It was a motel. 

What the hell were they doing here? Were they having an affair? There’s no way Shouyou is cheating on Kageyama-kun, they were practically married. But again, the ride was suspiciously long and they ended far away from places they would be recognized. And Kiyoomi emphasised that he liked Hinata, was this what he meant? Was there any other possible explanation from sneaking away with your teammate to a love hotel? Damn, Hinata was even dressed in what he called his ‘perfect disguise’, wearing a cap, a big and old dark hoodie and sunglasses. How didn’t he realize? He thought it was the sun bothering him. 

God, what was he supposed to do? Why didn’t Omi-kun warn him? Is that why he stopped answering? What was he expecting him to do? He couldn’t go on and fuck with one of his best friends, it was even worse that he used to have a two seconds crush on his teammate when he joined the Jackals. 

Atsumu's mind was racing with thoughts about making up excuses to cancel their supposed date, that he didn’t notice the other man was talking to him. 

“...Omi-san, Omi-san! Let’s go, we’re gonna be late! You know Mayumi-san doesn’t like when we’re late!”

Oh my God, are there more people involved? The idea disoriented him so bad that he just followed his friend's command and got out of the car, going towards the motel. The closer they got to the entrance, the more nervous he was feeling, then Hinata asked, “Where are you going, Omi-san?” 

He was so centered on the panic arising that he failed to notice the other man stopped at the house next to the hotel, and had already knocked on the door. Atsumu’s soul crashed back into his body, he was so relieved. 

They were received by an old lady, presumably Mayumi-san, since she scolded them for being almost late. They walked through a corridor and ended in what seemed like a clay workshop. They were surrounded by older women already working on their projects. 

The last thing Atsumu expected was Sakusa Kiyoomi wanting to do crafts that involved getting his hands dirty, with none other than Hinata Shouyou, known for being a ball of energy. The affair idea seemed more likely compared to it. 

“Say, Hinata-kun, how long have we been taking pottery classes?”

“It’s been a month now! Honestly, I’m surprised you stayed this long, at first you really hated it...”

I can imagine , Atsumu thought. 

“...but I think you mostly stayed because you’re expecting me to tell you something big like Miwa’s girlfriend again!”

“Oh my God, that was you?”

“Huh? What do you mean Omi-san?”

“Nothing, nothing, everything makes sense now.” Atsumu tried to save his mistake. “Couldn’t you just ask Kageyama-kun about her sister?” 

“That’s the thing! I don’t know if Tobio knows and I don’t want to spoil it!” Ah, typical of Shouyou being so nice. “But I have a juicy thing to tell you!”

“I’m all ears.”

“Ushijima-san wants to ask you out!” Atsumu felt something tighten at his throat. “I told Tobio-kun I wouldn’t tell you but I want you to be prepared because I know you’re not good with emotional stuff and all!” Such a good friend. Atsumu didn’t know what to say. 

“Oh, um, thanks I guess.”

“So what are you gonna say? I know you had a little crush on him in high school, or is there another person in your head” The way he said it felt like both of them knew who he was talking about. 

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it later.”

They resumed their chatting and Atsumu started to concentrate on the matter at hand and ignore whatever was going on with the unease in his body. Sakusa Kiyoomi liking someone? He would like to see that.
At first he tried to imitate everything Shouyou was doing, but the man noticed and told him he didn’t have to copy him, that it was more fun doing your own thing. If only I knew what I’m doing.

Sooner than later, he decided it was better not to copy Shouyou, since he seemed to be struggling. Like, at first the vase went well, but suddenly he made a small movement and everything  crashed down. 

They were finally helped by an old lady named Tomoko, who reminded him a little of his grandmother, who noticed his struggle to keep the clay from deforming. The activity was probably fun, but Atsumu hated everything that he wasn’t good at the start, so he was clearly frustrated with himself. 

“What happened between you and Miya, Shou-kun?” Atsumu asked, taking advantage of their little break to put the things in the oven. Forcing himself not to use the Kansai dialect was hard, but he was getting the hang of it. 

“Oh, he just made a stupid comment and now he gets my stupid reactions. It isn’t a big deal, really, I wasn’t having the best of days and almost snapped at him. But now my pride won’t let it down unless he apologizes, so.”

“Ahh, I get it.” He said between his teeth. Honestly, he didn’t get it, Shouyou was an overly comprehensive man, so you really had to go out of your way to make him mad. “He’d probably apologize soon, he’s not that bad.” 

“Oh, you think so? That’s very rich coming from you, Omi-san.” he said with a smile. 

“What do you mean, Hinata-kun?”

“Oh, with how you’re always ‘bad mouthing’ him , saying how precise and consistent his sets are that are actually disgusting, or how he spends way too much time in the showers, or how he makes cooking look effortless while you struggle to do scrambled eggs. Or how you think he is arrogant and a nuisance, but he has a really pretty face that makes the whole ordeal obnoxious. And how you can’t believe that someone so confident about their own skills (and who is right about them) can still be so full of himself looking for improvement. Or how you can’t stand when he talks, even when you start conversations with him, and you say you only tolerate him for volleyball but I saw you asking him that stupid celebrity drama. Or how he-”

“God, Shou, I get it, I hate the guy.” for some unknown reason, saying that makes his stomach sink and his mouth dry. 

Did he actually hate him? 

Atsumu liked Kiyoomi. He was a challenge.

It was a challenge to get more than a two word sentence answer. It was a challenge to make him smile, moreover, even a tiny smirk that wasn’t sarcastic or on behalf of one of Atsumu’s mistakes. It was a challenge to make him engage in group conversations that weren’t volleyball related. Even in the volleyball related ones, he preferred to be quiet. One can imagine how he was when team bonding was mentioned. They tried to accommodate Sakusa, looking for activities that didn’t involve food from strangers or crowds, but the man simply didn’t want to assist that much. 

Atsumu liked challenges, so he liked Kiyoomi from the moment he entered the team. 

“You’ve been spending an awfully lot of time together to hate him.” Hinata commented. 

“We are going through…stuff.”

“Stuff.” The other man just looked at him. “Does it have anything to do with the way you’re playing lately? Or is it just about his pretty, annoying face?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, I don’t know.” Pretty annoying face? Huh, those must be Hinata’s words. 

“You know you can talk about anything with me, right?” His gaze showed preoccupation, but also the true affection behind those words.

God, Atsumu really needed a friend these days. He wasn’t the kind of person to keep his matters private, even those which needed to be kept private, he couldn’t hold them for long. He had always had ‘Samu as his confidant, and as the other twin grew out of it, Atsumu didn’t. Even if it was something he wasn’t allowed to tell his brother, he had Sunarin, who one may think is the same as spilling his secrets to the entire world, but instead, he kept it quiet and preferred to call it ‘new blackmail material’. Sometimes he talked to Aran, since he gave the twins really good advice and took a place as the older brother they never had. God, he would even consider Kita-san sometimes.

He made a mental note to find a way to make a call with Suna, he needed his daily EJP gossip. 

Talking to Omi-kun was an option before, but now he knew how much the other man despised him, he didn’t feel really encouraged. If anything, he wanted to confront the man and show him how good and cool a person he actually was. He normally did that through volleyball, after all it was the one thing he was the best at. But now he was going to make his mission to make Kiyoomi like him in every way possible. Now that they were obligated to interact with each other it was the perfect time. 

“Thank you, Shou-kun” 

“No problem! I’m happy we’re close now, Omi-san!” 

Ah, Hinata was really something else. Maybe he can find a way to ask him how he made Kiyoomi like him.
He really wanted Kiyoomi to like him. It would be good to feel the victory of winning over one of the most difficult men on earth, also it was the benefit of being liked, something Atsumu liked since being born, but a secret third thing he couldn’t deduce yet. 

He wanted Kiyoomi to like him because he wanted that special validation only the other man could provide.

He longed for attention, most of their silly arguments being a way of capturing it, giving his own to the most insignificant details. 

He liked being liked, but he was sure being liked by Kiyoomi must feel so good. The idea makes him feel warm, excitement filling up his body. 

How would it feel Kiyoomi’s affection? Would Wakatoshi-kun be the lucky one? 

These hands,
These hands that he now bears, how would they feel on their own? On his face? On his back, on his neck or his waist? How would chest against chest feel?, being able to hear each other's pulse, their heartbeats falling into a rhythm only both of them would know. 

He was familiar with the feeling of legs against legs, the meat of their thighs touching when sitting together. One may think Kiyoomi would make anything at his hand to evade it, but for some reason, Atsumu was still familiar with the feeling. He knew how Kiyoomi’s legs felt against his. He wondered how those pale legs would feel against his waist, against the inside of his thighs, around his neck. 

How would he react to gifts? The expression on the other’s face would for sure make Atsumu’s skin ticklish. He doesn’t think the other man would denote surprise. Gosh, probably he would do anything to hide his emotions. It would be pretty, the idea of Kiyoomi trying to hide his embarrassment. Would embarrassment be the right emotion? Maybe he would be excited, waiting for a good reaction. 

Atsumu knew Kiyoomi. It didn’t look like it, but he was a proud Sakusa Kiyoomi observer. He was pretty sure it would be none of the above. He would make a petty expression, a satisfied smirk and a simple ‘Heh.’ would fall from his mouth. He would be loudly proud of knowing another person's desires. God, Atsumu really wanted to be the other person.

The same course of actions would happen if, for some miracle, Kiyoomi gives a compliment. One that isn’t actually an insult, because Atsumu had heard plenty of those. Ah, but the fantasy extends to Kiyoomi receiving a compliment. Atsumu would bet anything on his name that he’s the tsundere type. Just brushing it aside, calling you names instead, hiding his flushed face and looking away. 

The more he thought about it, the closer he felt to know why he wanted all that.

The more he thought about it, the more body reactions he had. He could feel the warmth in his cheeks and necks, and he would give anything to get a mirror to accomplish his fantasy of seeing the man of his desires blushing. 

The man of his desires. 

It was almost like the word desire fit perfectly. Because it did. 

Oh.

Ohhhh.

He was fucked up.

Miya was ignoring him. 

Sakusa shouldn’t be complaining. That way, he actually did a better job impersonating him.
But something was off . Nothing special had happened, practice went as normal as someone could expect -maybe even better-, with Meian giving them less weird looks. The offending-Hinata subject was over too, with Kiyoomi reluctantly apologizing. 

Anyways, he didn’t have time to worry about it, since he had a bigger problem in his hands. 

He was meeting Osamu in the afternoon.

…

Okay maybe he should have worried a little. 

If he had spent time talking with Atsumu about his brother, he wouldn’t be now sitting at the counter of Osamu’s empty restaurant with little to nothing to say.

Contrary to Atsumu, he wasn’t a very talkative person, preferring to evade unnecessary social situations. Except for sneaky remarks on his peers' mistakes, maybe they weren’t that necessary, but they filled his heart.

“So, how’s the season going ‘Tsumu?” Osamu asks, closing the cash register. 

“It’s going well.”

He could hear the buzzing of the electrodomestics.
The restaurant closed early because of his arrival, a sign of true love, losing a few of your clients over spending time with your beloved brother. If he just had something to say.
He knew Osamu, not personally, but he wasn’t a stranger to him. He was calm and reliable, but he was a Miya, so Kiyoomi knew better than to assume he was any different from his twin. 

The thing was, he didn’t know how to interact with relatives at all. His siblings were way older than him and the only role they played in his life was babysitting him, watching TV or studying while making sure he didn’t turn the house on fire. There was Motoya’s family as well, but the older sister was always with friends when he visited, and he evaded the younger sister like the plague because she liked to play with bugs and was a messy eater. Motoya was different, he did actually respect his boundaries, and didn’t force him to interact when he didn’t want to, they could sit in silence in the room while Sakusa was reading and Motoya did his homework.

“Are ya mad at me?”

“I had a dream where you ate my last pudding” he blurted without much thinking, and surprised he remembered the fact. God, why the hell did he choose that to say? 

“Ahh, I see how that makes ya grumpy.” Apparently, that was the most Atsumu Miya thing he said in this entire journey, because Osamu was smiling. “Ya can have some of my leftovers as a tribute of peace.”

Free food. Free Osamu’s food. Maybe the uncomfortable silence was worth it.

Osamu came back with a plate with four warm onigiris. 

“Thanks, Osamu” he said as the other man was placing the item in front of him. He stopped mid action to look at him confused. “What?” 

He finally left the plate on the counter. “Nothing. Yer weird, that’s it.”

Kiyoomi just nodded and started eating. Damn, this fatty tuna was tastier than he expected.

“This is really good.” 

“Why do ya act so surprised, it’s yer favourite after all.” 

He could hear the sound of him biting his food, the soft breaths from Osamu, the dishwasher working. 

“What has got ya so calm? Did that Omi-kun of yers finally found a girlfriend so stopped bickering with you?” 

Oh, so he talked shit about him to his brother. How flattering, but expected. He also does that with his cousin. 

“He’s gay.” he simply said. The twin looked at him surprised, then sighed. 

“What a shame.” something fell to his stomach.

“What- what a shame?” He tried his best to disguise his annoyance. 

“Yeah, yaknow, he’s a very attractive man and everything. Good genetics that go to waste.”

 “Do you think every person who’s attracted to the same gender is a waste?” 

“‘Course not! Only the hot ones.” God this was awful . This bigotry was probably out of ignorance, at least he hopes.

“So, you think that about Bokuto?”

“Gosh, thank God he can’t have children, can you imagine the little monster the kid would be?” Sakusa tried not to laugh since he was offended. “Akaashi-kun is the prettiest though, a bit too gay for my liking.”

“How…how is someone too gay ?” 

“Oh, c’mon, yaknow.” 

“No. I don’t know.” Osamu just rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have, like, a gay hot gay friend, uhm…Suna!” 

“What do ya mean, we have Suna. And he says he’s gay and everything but I never saw him dating anyone or anything” 

Well, you’re definitely wrong, Kiyoomi thinks. He knew for a fact that Suna Rintarou was hooking up with someone, specifically his cousin . The latter wanted something more, but Suna specified he wasn’t emotionally available at the moment, being in love with another person. Was it morally correct that he knew all of this? Probably not, but he was the one who had to console the man, and he rambled about everything when he was sad. 

“How are you so sure?” 

“We’re best friends! He would totally tell me.” 

“So, if he hypothetically were dating someone, would you think he is a waste of genetics?” 

“Well, I mean, he's, like, extremely handsome. And ya have seen his eyes. Like, they’re a bright green, but near the pupil is more olive-like. And sometimes when the light hits just right they’re a bit amber. And his features are really pretty. I like how his eyes always look calm, like he has no care in the world, and his lips seem really soft, and his nose-” Okay, so that's what was happening.

Miya Osamu had a severe case of being an homophobic homosexual. Close enough, welcome back Light Yagami.

The man kept talking about his supposed best friend's beauty, and he just finished talking about his face. Kiyoomi just ignored him while eating. As much as he wanted, he wasn’t in any obligation to educate the man, nor was it his problem, Osamu wasn’t a person he had in his daily life. Poor Suna, though. He had an idea now on who he probably likes. 

He wondered if Atsumu thought the same, that he was a waste. If he thought he was so pretty that he should be on the obligation to procreate. If his life didn’t make any sense if he didn’t have sex with a woman. He used to think that. His own parents think that, making it clear that they did not accept his sexuality, and they expected him to marry a girl someday.
Ugh, this train of thoughts was making him depressed. 

“I think I’m going to leave.” 

“What? But we just started talking!” 

“You know it is a long train ride.”

“Whatever, just wait, I have some more onigiris to give you and your friends.” Ah, such a nice brother. Osamu came back with a package. “Are ya sure ya okay?” 

Kiyoomi just nodded. The other didn’t seem convinced, but he just hugged him and let him go. 

…

When he arrived at the apartment, he let himself fall on the couch and covered his face with his hands. Why did Osamu have to be so perceptive? He knew he didn’t fool him, probably he just thinks he’s mad at him for some reason. 

Bokuto was in the common room, probably texting Akaashi, and noticed his stress. Atsumu was next to him, murmuring something to him, still ignoring him. 

“How was your hangout with Myaa-Sam, Tsum-tsum?” 

“It was…interesting:”

“What did ya do now?” Atsumu jumped aggressively into the conversation. 

“I did nothing. I just think he may be a little homophobic. And homosexual.” 

“Whaaaaaat? ‘Samu’s not homophobic! We have gay friends!”

“It’s 2024, everyone has a gay friend. Unless you don’t like Lana del Rey, then you’re the gay friend!”

“I don’t like her! Her music, I mean”

“I have some news for you.”

“Hey!”

“But, Tsum-tsum, what makes you think Myaa-Sam may be homophobic?” 

“He just kept saying that good-looking gay people were a waste of genetics. Also he said that Aka- I mean, someone queer is way too gay for his liking.”

“That’s not homophobic! That’s just an opinion.”

“Umm, Omi-kun, that’s actually hate speech.” Bokuto started “It centres romantic relationships as merely reproductive, instead of focusing on love and self fulfilment. Not only to queer relationships but straights too. Also, it obliges us to follow the heteronorma in queer relationships, when societies moved from the need of marrying and children into a more carefree and successful life. It is also offensive for women with fertility issues, making them seem worthless in a society focused on reproduction ” Sakusa and Atsumu looked at each other surprised by the eloquence of his friend. “Do you guys think if I put my socks in the microwave they’ll dry faster?” Ah, that was normal Bokuto again. 

“Please, refrain from doing so, Bokuto.” Kiyoomi said as he saw the man leaving the room, presumingly to look for the socks. 

Both of them stood in the common room in an awkward silence. 

“Wow, I never thought it like that. I guess it was a little homophobic then.” It was the first time in the day that Atsumu gave him a word in the entire day without being passive aggressive. “I’m sorry ya had to hear that. Why do you even care, anyways?” 

Because I don’t like being treated like I’m worthless.

Because no one deserves that. Because there’s enough hate in the world and I don’t want it near me or the people I care for. 

Because I won’t wish to have intolerant relatives even to my biggest enemies. 

Because, maybe, and just maybe, I may want you to be queer, but I don’t want that fate for you if you’re not in a safe space.  

Huh, that last one was weird. 

“I’m gay.” He says instead. 

“Ya are?!”

“Is that really surprising? You never saw me with a woman in my entire life. And we have known each other since high school.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, I never thought ya’ll be attracted to anyone in any sort of way. Sorry, is that offensive?” 

“Man is a hopeless creature. I don't like much of anyone.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. Anyways, why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not mad at you!” 

“You barely talked to me the entire day.” Atsumu clicked his tongue.

“Like ya wouldn’t love that.” He stood up and left Kiyoomi confused on the couch. 

Okay?

He preferred to let the other cool down a bit before trying to interact again. Miya Atsumu was really a nuisance. 

For some reason, a tightness in his chest appeared. Maybe he needed some fresh air.
Yes, that’s it.

Realization had hit him hard. 

When he realised, he looked around to the old ladies in the room to see if anyone did hear his thoughts. He felt like he was naked, like everyone could see through him. Tomoko-san seemed to realise something was wrong with him because she asked if he needed a moment, but Atsumu tried to brush away his epiphany for now. 

They arrived at the dorms and he couldn’t be in the same room as Sakusa, he didn’t know how to look the man in the eyes. He knew they had stuff to talk about, try to resolve the whole thing, and he was worrying over a little blood rushing to his face and the nervousness of talking to someone you like. The conversation they just had didn’t help with his predicament at all. He knew he was being unfair with Kiyoomi, not everyone had to like him, but he wanted him to like him. 

He was never one to be shy with his crushes, but there was a few things different in this situation:

1. He never found himself inside the body of his crush;
2. the man was fucking Sakusa Kiyoomi, a man who apparently hated him on daily basis and did nothing but just tolerate him for the sake of volleyball; and
3. Miya Atsumu was not gay. 

There was nothing he could do with the first two, not knowing how to exchange bodies back (he really needed to talk to Kiyoomi about that, he should not keep the man hanging), and actually knowing that when he liked someone, there was nothing he could do to change it.

At least, he was sure that he like-liked Kiyoomi and not that he was just attracted to him. Like, yes, looking at himself in the mirror was hard, especially trying not to blush, and since they exchanged bodies the impure thoughts had escalated a worrying amount -he should have seen it coming-, but he also yearned for the Kiyoomi in Atsumu’s body. He wanted the attention, his psyche, that blunt and weird personality of him. He didn’t know how or why . But he liked the man. 

(In reality, he did knew, he just won’t admit he was drawn towards his proclaimed rival)

The third one was a little more complicated.
It’s not like he never questioned his sexuality. It was the common teenager experience after all. Of course, he sometimes felt like he was attracted to his senpais. When they grew, he found Aran to be an attractive man, with physical appearance that was a rare sight in Hyogo, but the thought was rapidly brushed aside and replaced by the feeling of camaraderie and brotherhood. 

And there were a lot of unsaid things about Kita Shinsuke.
Kita-san’s steadiness could always balance Atsumu’s intensity. He never said he was high maintenance, that he was too loud or too arrogant and overconfident, or how he should be more calm and humble like his brother -that one was probably because he actually knew they were really alike personality wise-. 

Atsumu always respected Kita-san and vice versa. Kita-san was a reliable man and someone who indeed cared for him, even when he didn’t have to. He recognized Atsumu’s talent and passion, and never told him he was too much to manage.

But of course that would happen. They were captain and star setter, of course Kita-san would influence Atsumu’s development on and off the court. Of course Atsumu would wish for their relationship to evolve into a deeper, more personal connection. After all, he really admired the man. 

Admiration . That was ‘Samu called it when he couldn’t help but question his feelings. He said it was normal, it was their Captain, everyone felt the same way about him. Even ‘Samu. 

When Sunarin was introduced to their life, it was easier for him.
He wasn’t like Suna. He wasn’t all day thirsting over men on the court. In fact, he didn’t know how Suna had the attention span to focus on being a good player and the opponent's libero thighs, it was actually impressive. 

Sunarin.

Right. 

He was a man. 

And he was also gay. 

And he played volleyball for the same time as Atsumu. There’s no way he never liked a teammate. 

He could help with this whole identity crisis. He will tell him that, no, wanting to know how skin-on-skin contact felt with a man was, in fact, not gay. And that in order to be, you needed to meet another set of requisites and standards that he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t meet. For one instance, being one hundred percent sure he liked girls wasn’t very gay of him. 

…

“Oh my God, Aran owes me so much money right now. Only five hundred yen, but the value it’s stored in the pride of being right.”

“Ya bet on my sexuality for five hundred yen?!”

They just started a call.
Atsumu made an excuse about being a bit sick and having a sore throat, faking a hoarse and kind of nasally voice. It was a really failed attempt to cover the pitch difference between Miya and Sakusa, but Suna didn’t comment on it.
He only said ‘I wanna talk to ya’ and ‘I think I like a man’ and Suna lost it. 

“I didn’t bet five hundred yen, I bet ten hundred for both of you! Since only you came out, I won half of the bet.” 

“Ya think ‘Samu’s gay?” 

“More like hope, but yeah.” 

“I dunno man, he doesn’t seem the type.” 

“You didn’t seem the type! So anyways, who triggered this gay crisis? Do I know him?” 

“May be, ” he cringed at the sound of his voice, “that’s not important! I just wanna know how one knows if they’re gay!”

“Well, liking someone of the same gender is a really big flag.”

“C’mon, ya know I’m not talkin’ ‘bout that! It’s just, I like girls, yaknow? I really like ‘em, they’re pretty, and hot, and sexy-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, keep it in your pants. You don’t sound familiar with the concept of bisexuality, do you?”  Atsumu just kept quiet. Suna had a talent of making him appear dumber than he is, and he wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. “I take that as a no. So…”

As he explained, Atsumu went through mixed emotions. The relief of his existence being normal, and with that, the fear of his existence being perceived. Knowing bisexuality was a thing was calming; knowing that what he was had a name, that a lot of people also did experience it, and that it had no rules, that he could feel it in different ways that other people was comforting.

Conversely, he was scared of being perceived as queer. He was scared that, being realistic, being bisexual was one of the most discriminated sexualities, even in the LGBT community. Japan wasn’t a very accepting country, less legally speaking. He had a big career that could shamble into pieces just for doing something out of his control like liking a man. The MSBY had a PR team, but he hated the fact that he had to come out to them in order to make sure he doesn’t ruin the whole life he has ahead.

In addition, he had to think about his family and friends, too.
Bokkun was a good reference. He was the one who was clearest about his sexuality and his love life. Atsumu firmly believed that there was no amount of homophobia or hate-promoting laws that could stop the man from screaming to the seven seas how much he loved his boyfriend. Shou-kun was there too. He wasn’t explicitly out, but he wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. If it wasn’t for the fact that he kept referring to Kageyama-kun as his rival instead of his lover, the world would already know. And everyone was good with both of them being queer. So yeah, the team was safe. Maybe he wasn’t assured in the entire volleyball field, but it worked for now. 

The other aspect was his family. Atsumu didn’t miss how Kiyoomi almost said Akaashi’s name when ‘Samu mentioned someone being ‘way too gay’. And the other comments, they didn’t hurt him at first, but the interpretation Bokuto did made sense, and he didn’t like being thought in that way. If his own brother thought that, both being the same age and generation, how would their parents react? 

“‘Tsumu? Are you listening?” 

“Ugh, yeah, I was hearin’ ya just fine.” Atsumu tried to brush his panic aside. 

“Yeah, right. I can hear you spiralling. It’s not that bad, you know?” 

“Yes, I know, it’s not that, it’s just…I dunno...”

They kept silent for a moment, until Suna talked again. “Tell me about him.”

“What? No!”

“Tell me about him!” Suna repeated “C’mon, I had to listen to your girl crushes all the time in high school! Now that I’m asking for it you’ll deny me?” 

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“You were. Now tell me what’s the big deal with this guy, it’s not like you to be insecure. Is it because is a man?”

“No…yeah, maybe. Someone said some stupid shit and now I don’t know how to feel.” Atsumu said shyly. He felt like he was making a big deal out of something really foolish. 

“Someone in the team did say something homophobic?!”

“No!”

“Then who? Tell me, I’ll kill them.”

“Awww, Sunarin would do that for me?” 

“Don’t think so big of yourself. Now, tell me, is someone important in your life at least?” 

“ Maybe …”

“Don’t maybe me again!”

“...it’s ‘Samu.”

None of them said a word after that. Atsumu was holding his breath, not sure exactly why. Suna probably will not believe him. He’ll probably dismiss the entire thing, he would tell him he was being stupid and all and that he was-

“That motherfucker. What did he tell you?” 

“You believe me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“He’s like, yer best friend. And he’s always nice to ya-” 

“And he is also a Miya,” Suna interfered before he could say more “that’s like, the main ingredient for stupidity”

“Hey!” 

“So, what did that airhead say?”

“Somethin’ ‘bout gay people bein’ too gay or bein’ a waste of good genetics.” He didn’t want to elaborate, he hadn't heard the actual conversation so he didn’t want to put words into ‘Samu’s mouth. 

Suna remained silent and Atsumu was starting to worry, did he just break the most long-term relationship his brother had? Was today a special holiday where Atsumu couldn’t stop being anxious about everyone and everything?

Suna sighed, bringing Atsumu back to reality,then he talked. He had never heard the man so serious “You know that’s not true, right?” 

“Well, yeah, I think so.”

“That’s important. We don’t owe anything to anyone, not babies or having certain mannerisms. God, not even straight people do.” 

Atsumu just nodded, then realised the other man couldn’t see him and muttered a small ‘yes’.

“I’ll talk to your brother”

“What?! No!!!” 

“C’mon, I’ll be subtle, I won’t mention you at all” 

Suna was subtle.
The man had a talent to get information from other people without them even noticing, that’s why he was always the one to have the latest updates in alumni gossip. But when it was about ‘Samu, he was an open book. They knew each other for so long and connected so well that they knew how to read the other, ‘Samu could never lie to Suna and vice versa, not because of a moral code, but because they could see through each other so easily.

Suna was also stubborn, so he knew it was no case trying to persuade the other man not to talk to his brother. So he just did what any other person would do in this situation. He gave up. “Okay, okay, whatever.” 

“Don’t think I’ll forget about the main issue, who is this man?” 

Atsumu whined and hid his face on the pillow. A muffled ‘stop bugging’ came out of his mouth. 

“C’mon, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me…” the other man started chanting in an obnoxious way. 

After literally five minutes of Suna not shuting the fuck up like Atsumu just asked, he gave up again. God, Sunarin was really something. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you something!” Suna suddenly stopped at that, and Atsumu swears he could hear him smile from the other side of the line. “He plays volleyball. And also, he hates me with passion.” 

“Ahhh, the intrinsicness of homosexuality in sports, I should have guessed.”

“Shut yer trap.”

“Noup! Anyways, why do you think he hates you? I mean, I can see it, you’re annoying as fuck, but I’ve taken a fondness to it”

“Ewwww.”

“Shut up, there’s a million people who would pay to hear a compliment from me, especially-” he stopped mid sentence “Oh my God, oh my God.” 

“What?” 

“You like Sakusa Kiyoomi!” he exclaimed with excitement “‘Toya’s cousin! Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell him!”

“What? Wait, wait!” How the hell did Suna know? Atsumu’s palms started sweating “How did ya come to that conclusion? I never said it was someone from the team! And don’t tell anyone!”

“So you admit it’s him…!”

“No!”

“...I should have guessed with the amount of shit you talk about him! Omi-kun this, Omi-kun that, Omi Omi’s spike today was weaker than last week, Omi-kun would never come to team bonding meetings.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Suna was now laughing. 

“Do you think he hates you? Nah man, I bet he just wants your attention.”

“I heard him talking to Shou-kun, saying how insufferable I am” 

“I mean, he’s probably right...”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“...but I don’t think he hates you because of that. You’re a good man, Atsumu, and an even better volleyball player.” Suna said seriously, but there was tenderness in his voice. 

“Awww, I knew Sunarin liked me!”

“Shut up, I still prefer your brother.” Atsumu laughed at that, of course he would. “I have to hang up, I promised the guys I’d go on a run with them, but we will probably end up in a random bar and I need blackmail material.” 

Atsumu was about to say his goodbyes when something clicked. 

“Ya hope ‘Samu’s gay?!?!”

“Bye, bye ‘Tsumu!” he said and hung up. 

God, his best friend was in love with his brother , he couldn’t wait to tell Omi-kun. 

Ah, right. They probably weren’t on speaking terms. He should fix that.

And what a better way than in volleyball practice tomorrow!

(Atsumu may be stupid)

Kiyoomi couldn’t understand what was wrong with Atsumu. 

The day before he was being passive-aggressive and now he was hyper excited for morning practice, even buying packed breakfast for both of them. But there still was something wrong, because the man wouldn’t talk to him nor meet him in the eye. 

He couldn’t escape this time to early morning practice with Hinata, so he decided to put all his energy on that and resolve whatever was going on with the Miya later. 

Hinata was onto something too. He wasn’t doing anything weird specifically, but his way of playing was rare.
This time Kiyoomi was confident in his setting skills, he wasn’t as good as the average professional player, but he could do it kinda good, so he knew he wasn’t the problem. 

The thing is, Hinata’s spikes were on the line, which took a lot of practice and good aiming, but it didn’t seem intentional. Nothing Hinata was doing while playing seemed intentional, it was almost like the other man was distracted by something, but he was able to see the concentration on his face. 

Kiyoomi wasn’t like Atsumu, he didn’t talk out his spikers to know what they were doing wrong, he didn’t know how. He decided his plays were kind of okay so he shouldn’t mention it in case he suggested to the other man he plays bad and messes with his focus. When actual practice came, it was more notorious that whatever was going on with Hinata was that he was having shitty luck, especially with his serves.
On the other hand, Atsumu was making a really good impression, playing really well, but not in a Kiyoomi style. Sakusa didn’t know if their teammates could notice how aggressive he was at serving, or how he became more aware of his surroundings and how good he could read the game, especially how the other setter was tossing. 

When the practice match came, they ended each on one side of the net, which was problematic because, even with the extra practice with Hinata, Atsumu was the only player he could connect with.
Atsumu didn’t seem to mind, suddenly playing good and all. He was giving his all in Kiyoomi’s body, hitting the ball like it was a season match. Kiyoomi was starting to worry about the state of his body, planning on making the other do extra stretches. 

“Omi-kun, you’re on fire today,” Bokuto commented. 

“Maybe you won’t get benched after all,” Meian murmured.

Kiyoomi won’t let himself get behind, so he did his best when tossing to Bokuto. The wing spiker position and posture was perfect. It was the first good toss he gave in the entire match. Hinata and Atsumu were in the blocker rotation, and when both of them jumped to block Bokuto, Sakusa saw the exact moment when Miya forgot he was in another body. He miscalculated the jump, since Kiyoomi was slightly lighter than him, and crashed with Hinata in the jump. They managed to block the ball, but that wasn’t the important part. The important part was the fall, when Hinata fell to the floor disequilibrated by the jump and Atsumu’s feet touched the court. Except it was only one foot, the other stepped on Hinata’s feet, bending in an unnatural way, and not how Kiyoomi’s hyperflexibility allowed it. 

A whine came out of Atsumu’s mouth, followed by a series of insults. Kiyoomi crossed under the net hurried to see the damage caused. He sat on his knees next to a fumbling Atsumu, the entire team was over them so he didn’t notice at first, but when he did, his eyes were filled with tears and the only thing that came out of his mouth was small ‘sorry’s

“I’m so-sorry Omi-Atsu-kun!” was the only tangible thing that he said. 

“Shut up and let’s take you to the infirmary, and stop crying, what the hell is wrong with you? It probably doesn’t hurt that much,” Kiyoomi said, completely confused for Miya demeanour “Meian-san, may I accompany Kiyoomi to the nursing?”

“I’m afraid to let you two alone, please don’t make things worse.”

Atsumu was helped to stood up and supported himself in Kiyoomi’s shoulders. When the two of them were alone in the corridors, Atsumu tried to talk. 

“Omi-kun, I’m really sorry, I just wanted to-”

“Do. Not. Talk. I don’t want to hear it.”

They arrived at their destination and the verdict from the athletic trainer was a slightly sprained ankle, that he had a lot of good luck because it could have been worse. A few days of rest and exercises would do.

Practice ended early, with Meian saying that Kiyoomi must stay on the bench for Friday’s match. Atsumu’s eyes were still glassy, but he accepted it with some sort of dignity.
Meian also took Sakusa apart to talk in private, saying that they would probably put their other setter as a starter in the match since he wasn’t playing like himself lately -little did he know he wasn’t actually even the Miya-, and that the match was pretty much important to leave loose ends.

Kiyoomi was mad, all of these days that they were taking care of each other going to waste, it didn’t matter anymore if they switch back on time because now both of them were benched, nothing really mattered anymore because Kiyoomi couldn’t be Atsumu and Atsumu couldn’t be Kiyoomi and they couldn’t find a way out of the situation. He may feel a little guilty for benching the other man, but that was on him. 

Kiyoomi was mad, tired, and kinda sad, so he decided he didn’t want to confront Atsumu when they got home. Except he was the first thing he encountered when he arrived at the common doors.

There he was, Atsumu sitting on the sofa with his injured leg on a pile of pillows, face still watery and looking at him mortified.

“Omi-kun, please hear me out, I’m so sorry I-,” 

Kiyoomi cut him instantly “You what? What the hell were you doing out there?! Trying to ruin my volleyball career by playing recklessly? I don’t even want to look at you now, Miya.” He tried to abandon the common room to go to his own and spiral, but his arm was grabbed by Atsumu. 

“Omi-kun, please,” Kiyoomi released himself instantly, like the touch was fire, getting angrier by the second. 

“Omi-kun, what?! What do you have to say in your defense? It doesn’t matter anymore since we’re both benched, so do whatever you want with my body now, it doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Wait, did I get benched too?” Atsumu says, getting in a normal sitting position, now noticeably angry “What the hell did ya do?”

“At least I didn’t get any injuries, I just tried my best without putting your body at risk! But I’m not a setter like you, and you don’t play in my position either so there was no need for all the circus you put on this morning!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if ya didn’t hate me so much!”

“Hate you? Who says I hate you? Well, I may do it now, you idiot. You ruined everything!”

“Umm, guys…” Ah, the only thing that they were missing, a teammate hearing their nonsense, and no other than Bokuto. 

“How long have you been here…” asked Miya timidly.

“Long enough to know what’s going on with you two! And what’s been going on these few days!” 

Please, say something stupid like ‘Call Me By Your Name’ again, said Kiyoomi in his head. The last thing they needed is a person believing their situation, nonetheless Bokuto Koutarou. He isn’t the brightest man, please, please say something stupid.

“You exchanged bodies! That’s why you've been calling each other by the other names! And why Omi-kun, who I suppose is actually Tsum-Tsum, has been treating me so nice, and eating so much strawberry, and how moody Tsum-Tsum, I mean Omi-kun, has been when I hugged him after a nice serve, and how you’ve been only eating packaged food like Omi does!” Bokuto said enthusiastically “The signals were all there! How did I miss it! That’s why you were over each other last time! I thought you finally resolved your sexual tens-”

“Okay, okay, Bokkun, I get it! You noticed! Please don’t tell anyone, they’ll think we have gone crazy” said Atsumu with a red face. 

“Oh no, I won’t tell anyone,” a sigh of relief left both Miya and Sakusa “except Keiji! He would love this!” As he said that, he took his phone out of his pocket, and out of reflex, Kiyoomi tackled the man.

“Nope, you’re not saying this to anyone, not even Akaashi-san” Kiyoomi said while fighting with Bokuto to get his phone out of his hands.

“No guys, you don’t understand, he can help us!” He said when winning his phone against Kiyoomi. “After all, body swap is his favourite trope.”

“Body…”

“...Swap?” both of them said, confused. 

“Yes! That’s what it's called. Like on Freaky Friday! Or Seventeen again, or much more! This can even help him work on his mangas, he for sure must have one with this theme that he’s been working on!” Bokuto seemed way too excited for the situation 

“So you believe us.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, you neither confirm nor deny anything, but everything is pretty clear! And of course I believe it! I told Keiji there’s no way there’s so many stories about it to not be real!” Bokuto said. “C’mon guys, it’s obvious that whatever you’ve been trying hasn’t been working, and Keiji and I know everything about this kind of situation, so why don’t we go visit him and have him help us?”

“Visit him. In Tokyo. Do you even hear what you’re saying?” 

“Omi-kun…” Atsumu had the classic Miya™ puppy eyes “We tried everything, haven’t we?”

Kiyoomi may be mad, angry and sad, impotence filling his body, but he let it all go when he saw the other man's face. It was his own face, but he could see Atsumu on it.

“Okay, but we have to go now . I want to be back by dinner.”

“Sure, Omi-kun! I’ll call Keiji to let him know we’re coming. Oh my God I’m gonna see Keiji I’m so happy!” he said, abandoning the room to presumably call his boyfriend and prepare himself. 

“You should rest, not go in a train to Tokyo, it’s my body, not yours.” He simply said to Miya.

“Don’t worry, Inunaki has a spare crutches that I can use, and I’ll be extra careful I promise.” 

“We still aren’t over the you me hating you thing, we’ll talk later.”

And that’s how he found himself in a train from Osaka to Tokyo with the two worst travelling companions.
Atsumu wasn’t as loud as usual, while Bokuto rambled about how excited he was to see his boyfriend on a weekday. Atsumu was in fact, pretty silent, just nodding at what Bokuto was saying or adding little to nothing to his monologue. 

Kiyoomi said to himself that he didn’t care, that he deserved it for messing up with his ankle, for playing so carefree and all. But his mind kept rounding around what the other man said. 

Hate him

Did he hate him? He was arrogant to a fault, strutting around the court as if he owns it. He’s a confident man and he has reasons to back it, but he comes off as cocky, like a guy who thinks he’s better than anyone else. He’s got the bad habit of teasing and provoking, especially with Kiyoomi, enjoying pushing other people's buttons. It’s not playful banter—it’s needling, and it’s irritating. He’ll smile that smug smile of his, knowing full well he’s getting under your skin. 

But Kiyoomi couldn’t help to like that, he enjoys their daily banter and how demanding the other man is in the court. Both of them are hard to work with, quick to criticize and slow to acknowledge anyone else’s efforts. That’s why when one of them hears criticism from the other -apart from the fact they’ll fight about it-, it’s easy to take it as constructive criticism. 

There’s a certain charm in the way he teases and banters with others. Kiyoomi knows it’s not mean spirited; it’s his way of connecting, of challenging you to be your best. Kiyoomi wants to be the best for Atsumu. He likes how he pushes him out of his comfort zone even when he thinks he’s doing it. He’s the kind of person who brings energy and intensity to everything he does, and it’s hard not to get swept up in it.

Sakusa didn’t dislike the Miya, after all, he’s the only teammate he feels he has a connection with. He has Hinata too, but for now it’s merely superficial, and an inevitable fact is to like Hinata Shouyou. 

Atsumu thinking Kiyoomi hates him makes him feel things in his stomach, and not in a good way. How could Kiyoomi hate such a charismatic (and obnoxious) man, someone who inspires you to be better, simply by being himself. Sure, he’s competitive and can be intense, but that’s part of what makes him so captivating.

Captivating. That’s what Miya is to him, he couldn’t help but orbitate around the man, constantly looking for his attention with his witty remarks. He doesn’t hate the man, he may even like him a little. 

Like him, yeah, in a totally platonic way. It’s not like since he’s in his body he can’t help but notice how athletic he is. Or how his new blonde hair remarks the gold of his eyes. Or how thick his thighs are, or how-

“The next stop is ours!” Bokuto interrupted his stupid train of thoughts.

Four men were sitting in a living room in silence, looking at each other. Bokuto looked overly excited and happy, Miya looked directly into Akaashi's eyes trying to decipher what was going on in his head, and Akaashi and Sakusa just looked tired. 

“So, you’re telling me you exchanged bodies.”

“Yes!” Bokuto and Atsumu said at the same time. 

“This kind of prank I would expect from you Kou and Myaa-Tsum, but not from you Sakusa-kun” he said looking directly into Atsumu’s eyes. 

“I’m Sakusa, and sadly, he’s Miya,” Kiyoomi said.

“Prove it,”

“How do ya want us to prove it- ohhhhh,” Atsumu stopped mid-sentence “Keiji-kun, 7th of september.”

Akaashi didn’t seem to understand at first, that’s until his eyes widened, his face became completely red and looks at Kiyoomi “I told you to not tell anyone!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, Kei, what is Tsum-Tsum saying?”

“That’s our affair anniversary,” Miya jokes. Bokuto pretends to gasp for air and takes a hand to his chest.

“Keiji! I never thought you would cheat on me! Less with a Miya!” Bokuto said following the joke and forgetting about the importance of the supposed date, “Well, maybe with Myaa-Sam, he’s the onigiri man! He has more onigiris than me!”

“I would never cheat on you, Kou,” Akaashi says while kissing him on the forehead, then on the lips, “I love you.”

“And I love you too!” he said kissing his boyfriend again.

“I feel so single right now.” Miya commented. 

“Me too.” 

“So, I believe you now, what have you tried for now?” 

Both of them explained the last few days, finding a certain sense of relief for finally sharing what they’ve been through. Bokuto was right, Akaashi knew a lot about this theme. 

They tried touching, looking for unresolved affairs to solve, Kiyoomi confronting his undiagnosed germaphobia with insects and stuff, and they even looked for rituals and spells online that they performed.
They were looking for magical artefacts on Amazon, when Akaashi suggested the unspeakable “Have you two kissed, right?” 

“What?!” Atsumu looked completely scandalised. Kiyoomi got offended at that, was the idea so repulsive?

“Of course they tried it! They’re not stupid, right?” Bokuto said. 

Both men stared at the others in disbelief.

“Ya think the first thing that comes to my mind is to kiss my own body? What kind of narcissist ya think I am?” 

“You didn’t?”

“Why would we? Miya has a point.” 

“Both of you know nothing about this trope and it shows. Now, you want privacy or…?”

“Are ya being serious right now?”

“Yes! It’s the first thing on the list.”

Sakusa and Miya looked at each other, both completely flustered. “Maybe…maybe we should try?” Sakusa found himself saying. 

“Whatever ya say, let’s end this.” Atsumu said and without prior notice grabbed Sakusa by the neck and crashed his lips with his. 

The action surprised Kiyoomi but he closed his eyes nonetheless.
It was a simple, chaste kiss, lips against lips.
It was nothing important, at least Kiyoomi thought, even if his heart raced like crazy. 

When they separated, Atsumu hid his face in his palms, and Kiyoomi just looked away.

“Kyaaa! That was terrible!” Ouch “It was like kissing my brother,” Ah, that makes sense “I’ll never listen to yer ideas again”

“I think you should kiss with tongue” Akaashi said nonchalantly. 

“Keiji!”

“Wait, what?”

“No way!” The three of them said at the same time. 

“What I mean is, you have to kiss with actual feelings ,” Akaashi started “like you would normally do if you were in your own body.”

“What…what do you mean by that?” Atsumu said, looking with one eye through his hands.

“Aren’t you two…dating?” The brunette said and then looked dead-serious at his boyfriend, “Right, Koutarou?” Who could have thought the manga editor could be so scary.

The other man did what anyone in this situation would do, and fully kneeled with his palms and forehead against the floor. “Sorry, Keiji-san! But I really thought they were dating! They were over each other with fingers in their mouth-”

“Please don’t remind me” Sakusa muttered

“-but instead they had exchanged bodies -which still doesn’t explain the situation-!, but I really wanted to win that bet!”

“You two had a bet on us dating?!” Atsumu was scandalised. 

“Indeed,” Akaashi answered “now Bokuto-san owes me double the amount the bet”

“Nooo, don’t Bokuto-san me!”

“You deserve it”

“How much were you betting?” Miya asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t money actually, instead-”

“This is a T-rated work, Keiji!” Bokuto said, still on the floor but now fully sat and with his hands in the air, like trying to stop an invisible force.

“What is he saying?” 

“Sometimes he says weird stuff like that, but I still love him” as he said he got to a floor level and kissed the other man on the forehead again , Kiyoomi started to hate happy couples. “So you two aren’t dating, I see…Well, that’s the main issue!” 

“What?”

“There’s nothing Bokuto-san and I can do,” at the mention of his family name, Bokuto pretended to be stabbed in the heart, “I may suggest you two sleep in the same bed, since you already tried to sleep in each other’s bed. That’s my last advice, otherwise, you have unresolved issues that need to be checked. It could even be a thing from a past life, so don’t hesitate to consult a psychic.”

“Well then, I guess that’s our cue to get back to Osaka, we’re gonna miss the last train.”

…

Kiyoomi forgot the fact that he had to experience once again the worst two companions on a train ride, now with Atsumu complaining how futile the whole trip was and Bokuto crying over having his first name privilege removed. 

“First of all, it was you who had the last word on coming,” Sakusa said to Atsumu “And you,” he said redirecting himself to Bokuto, “he kissed you goodbye and called you Kou, so now please you two shut up ‘cuz I want to have some sleep before we get home!” He tried to ignore the fact that when they get home he should share a bed with the one and only Miya Atsumu. He couldn’t find the reason why that made him so nervous. 

It’s not like he’s worried about germs, after all it is his own body, and Atsumu has been keeping his promise on showering three times a day. Maybe it’s the fact that the Miya still owes him a talk about the whole hating him thing. Yeah, it’s probably that.

Sakusa was postponing the sleeping in the same bed thing the most time possible. Atsumu was already in his bed, waiting for him, who was in the bathroom spiralling.
It wasn’t a big deal, sharing a bed I mean. After all they passed through together this is the least problematic thing they had done. 

But Sakusa was having second thoughts. And they still had a conversation pending that he was not sure how to confront. 

He decided to face his current situation and got out of the bathroom.

“Which side of the bed do ya want?” Atsumu asked nonchalantly 

“I don’t hate you.” He blurted out “I don’t know why you think so.” Sakusa paused for a second and sat on the bed “Well, I may now, but it was never intentional” he tried to joke.

“Not even after messing with yer ankle?”

“Not even after that.” Kiyoomi inhaled hardly, it was now or never. “I’m actually…quite fond of you” He kept the eye contact, trying to convey what he actually meant, whatever that was supposed to be.

Atsumu hadn’t said a thing, mouth completely agape and wide eyes.

“You really mean it?”

Kiyoomi hesitated a little “I…I do”

They stayed in silence for a while.
It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead it was a pensive silence. Letting both of them be aware of their feelings. Sakusa decided to take the free side of the bed and laid to his side face to face with Atsumu.

Right here, right now, almost in each other's embrace, there was no place for judgement, only for thoughts flying free through their minds. It was like the pieces of a puzzle were looking for their place, and when they finally found it, Kiyoomi was hit with a realisation. 

Why him? Why Atsumu? Why both of them? They already liked each other it seemed, so there was nothing to resolve.

Except…

Except it wasn’t explicit.
They never said it out loud, it was never necessary.
But maybe it was, maybe that was why they were in this whole ordeal.
Maybe Kiyoomi shouldn’t be scared anymore, maybe he should let people enter his life, let them know him as he truly is. 

Maybe Kiyoomi should accept his fate.

The realization didn’t hit him like a truck. Neither slammed into him or shocked him to his core. The thought tiptoed into his mind, almost as if afraid to disturb him, it dawned on him like the first rays of sunlight, gentle but undeniable.

The glances he stole from Atsumu during practice wasn’t from acknowledging his skills only, or for looking for a small chance to tease him. Despite their differences, both are perfectionists in their craft. He appreciates how this shared drive for excellence forms a common ground, with each pushing the other to improve, even if they go about it in vastly different ways.

They’ve been exploring how to help each other grow -Sakusa teaching Atsumu restraint and patience, and Atsumu helping Sakusa open up and trust others.

Sakusa joined the Black Jackals because he respected their skill levels, and this includes Atsumu as a setter. 

But that was not it. 

In quieter times, they share soft, vulnerable moments where their walls come down, and they can simply be themselves.
For both of them, trust doesn’t come easily, but once it’s built, it becomes the cornerstone of their relationship. Sakusa trusts Atsumu to respect his boundaries, and Atsumu trusts Sakusa to see past his bravado to the person beneath.

While they may seem like opposites, they fit together like puzzle pieces; Atsumu’s energy fills the quiet spaces in Sakusa’s life, making it more vibrant. Sakusa’s calm presence anchors Atsumu, giving him a sense of home he didn’t know he needed.

They fitted together, more than Kiyoomi ever noticed.

And Kiyoomi liked that. 

Kiyoomi liked how Atsumu is almost as perfect as a cook as his brother, and how clean he is afterwards.
Atsumu might think he doesn’t notice the little things he does for him, like making sure to carry a hand sanitizer in his own backpack or how he buys green tea leaves for everyone, even if he is the only one who prefers leaves instead of bags, or  like remembering Kiyoomi’s preferences, ensuring his water bottle is full during practice, or handing him a towel without being asked.

Sakusa, who is reserved and guarded, might admire Atsumu’s ability to express his feelings freely—whether it’s frustration, excitement, or affection. He might find it refreshing and even inspiring in a way that encourages him to open up more.

Yes, the thing was, Kiyoomi liked Atsumu. A lot it seemed.

“I like you.” Kiyoomi bravely said, hating every word, every syllable, every truth. Because how come he likes The Insufferable and Obnoxious Miya Atsumu?
His heart was beating so fast and he was transpiring but that didn’t matter right now. 

“Yeah, you stated that already.”

“No, I like you. Like like you-like you”

Seeing himself blushing like a madman wasn’t helping him, it was giving him second hand embarrassment. 

“Wh- What?”

“Are you deaf? Did you ruin another part of my body now?”

“Hey! It’s just…it doesn’t feel real?” Atsumu looked kinda sad at the moment. Sakusa wanted to kiss that pout away, even if it was in his own body. “Are ya just saying this so we can exchange bodies back? Because it’s not gonna work.”

“Don’t you feel the same?” Sakusa never thought of that option. Whenever Sakusa goes, there is a witty remark of Atsumu at his side. It never crossed his mind that they weren’t on the same page. A small, confused smile flickers on his lips, as though trying to mask the unexpected pang of disappointment.

“Yeah, no, I mean…” he looked conflicted. Then he hid his face between his hands, still facing Kiyoomi. “I like ya. A lot to be honest. And that’s why I know what yer saying it’s not true.”

“How do you know? You know nothing about my feelings. After all this time together I thought you would understand.” Kiyoomi paused, insecure about what to do now. He had to convince the other party and he wasn’t the best with words. “I like you. I like everything about you. I admire your confidence, even when it borders arrogance, that’s the best part. I like to pretend to be irritated by your teasing or our banters, but I secretly find it endearing, especially since I know it’s  lighthearted and harmless.

And your loud personality overshadows the fact that you’re incredibly considerate, don’t think I don’t notice you refill my water bottle in the middle of practice or understand my thing with numbers and exercises and quirks.

Your ability to connect with people, even if it’s through your stupid brash personality intrigues me and I admire how you can command attention and charm others effortlessly.

And on the court, I could never not like you when we are on the court. I could swear that makes me like you even more. I despite how you perfectly tailors set to my preferences, how you adapt to my high standard for performance and even looking for ways to better our connections. Your refusal to back down in a difficult match, or even through my guarded exterior, has grown on me, even if it frustrated me at first.
Your passion for volleyball and constant drive to improve resonates with me. I could never ask for a better teammate who matches my dedication for the sport. 

I don’t know if I started liking you after or before volleyball, but one thing is for sure Miya Atsumu and that is I’m crazy for you.”

Miya just looked at him through his hands with watery eyes and shaking arms.

“You…you really like me!” he said, at the end of the sentence moving his hands from his face and looking at the ceiling with his arms open in the air “The Sakusa Kiyoomi really likes m-!” 

“Stop shouting, you idiot, you’re gonna wake someone” he said, putting his hand on Atsumu's mouth to prevent him from continuing to keep shouting. 

Atsumu grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers together, turning to the side again to face him again. 

“I can believe ya think all those things about me, you must really like me.” he said, now whispering.

“I hope you heard them right because that was the last time I’m going to said something so cheesy”

“Oh, c’mon, ya already said yer crazy for me, I’ll never let you live it down” 

“And yet you hadn’t said a single thing about me. How romantic you turned out to be”

“Hey! Don’t call me out like that! Ya were the one telling Shou-kun how much you hate me!”

“Is that what all of this was about? How I vented to Hinata how much your pretty face annoyed me to the point of disgrace? Didn’t he mention that?”

“He said something along the words but I didn’t believe him.” Atsumu looked so much relaxed right now, eyes still watery but more calm. “So, you like me, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” he said and grabbed a pillow to asphyxiate his friend. But said friend was also an olympic athlete so he had some reflexes and took the pillow to himself and threw it across the room, while tackling Kiyoomi into a hug.

“Are you okay with this?” Atsumu timidly asked.

“Whatever”

“If yer uncomfortable I can-” he said while untangling himself from Kiyoomi’s chest, but was suddenly stopped by the other man. “-okay.”

They stayed in silence for another while.

“Do you think this will reverse things?”

“I hope so, I can’t stand being this short anymore”

“It’s just two centimeters!”

“Yeah, whatever. I still have to look up at you.”

Another silence.

“Can we sleep like this?” 

But there was no answer, Kiyoomi already asleep after their long day.

Atsumu never felt more happy.

Kiyoomi wasn’t much of a fan of sharing a bed with someone. The lucky ones who got the opportunity to sleep with him always moved too much or tried to hug him or cuddle with him.

But sleeping with Atsumu never felt so right.

He had his head on his chest, hearing his heartbeats and feeling his breathing. Their legs were tangled in a way that made them impossibly close and one of his arms was asleep from hugging the Miya.
Kiyoomi, still with closed eyes, inhaled their mixed essences and relaxed his entire body. The alarm didn’t go off yet so they still had time before practice. He tried to move his legs a little and found a minor bother on his right ankle.

Wait .
They haven’t fallen asleep in this position. It was actually the other way around, with Miya against his chest.
Why do I still call him Miya? I literally proclaimed my love for him yesterday. Sakusa thought, Wait, that doesn’t matter, did we finally…?

Kiyoomi untangled himself from the other man and looked at him. His white skin, the way his lips were softly and slightly open, how he furrowed his brow at the sign of movement, how his  body lay sprawled in tangled sheets, breath rising and falling in shallow pulses, yet he felt no connection to the rhythm. His eyes, from the outside, fluttered open—slowly, mechanically—while he, the watcher, remained suspended nearby, hovering just out of sync with reality.

The waking self blinked, pupils adjusting, but the gaze was empty, almost borrowed. Limbs stirred with a delay, each movement fractionally off, like a puppet mastering its strings for the first time.

From his vantage, the observer felt an unnatural stillness, as if time inside the body lagged behind. Was he waking up—or being reanimated ? A chilling sensation crept through him as his lips parted on the bed, whispering words he hadn't yet thought of.

“Omi-kun?”

A wave of panic arised inside him. A wave of everything arised inside him.
He stood up, and ran to the bathroom, ignoring the littles “ Omi-kun, Omi-omi?” from his teammate.

He hurried into the bathroom, his movements unsteady and urgent. Gripping the edge of the sink, he hunched forward, his body tense and trembling. A wave of discomfort passed through him, leaving him pale and shaken as he struggled to catch his breath after throwing up.

“Omi-kun! Are ya okay? What happened? I’ll bring ya a glass of water, just wait.” As he was saying this, Kiyoomi sat on the floor of his bathroom, wiping the sudor from his forehead and feeling less perturbed than before.

He had seen his own body move by itself, controlled by another soul for five days in a row now, there was nothing to be scared or unsettled for. But it has been those light instants of hope that mobilized him in such a way. 

Atsumu came with a glass of water as promised and sat next to him. Drinking water or any form of consuming food in the bathroom was gross, but Kiyoomi wasn’t going to complain now.

“I guess we didn’t switch back, huh?” said the other man casually.

“Don’t even mention it. How’s my-I mean- your ankle?”

“Considerably better, I mean, I could get ya the water without the crutches so…”

Kiyoomi just nodded and drank the remaining water.

“What happened to ya? It’s something we ate at Keiji-kun’s house? But in that case I would be ill too…”

“I’ve got the Uncanny Valley feeling just from watching you sleep. I hoped after what happened yesterday we would switch back but it wasn’t the case so I’ve got weirded out.”

“C’mon, yer a sexy man, not something to throw up for” Atsumu said jokingly. Kiyoomi pushed him playfully to the side to shut him up.

They stayed like that for a while. Sitting in the bathroom with an empty glass and vomit odor in the air. It was quite disgusting, but at least they were together. 

“You know, this is probably all your fault...” Kiyoomi said nonchalantly, non-accusatory, just stating a fact.

“What now?!”

“...I said all that nice things about you and the only response I’ve got was a same …”

“Hey! I didn’t say that!”

“...that’s why the evil spirits are still mad at us, because you didn’t confess.”

“I thought ya didn’t believe this was evil spirit doing”

“People change Atsumu.” At the mention of his given name, the man hid his face into his hands.

“Don’t just ya say that!”

“What? That people change?”

“No! The other thing!”

Kiyoomi didn’t even notice how the name rolled out of his tongue, practically thinking out loud. He could feel the tip of his ears turning carmin, but Atsumu wasn’t looking so he could take advantage of that.

“Ohhh…you mean Atsumu?” said man now hid his hands and face between his knees “Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu…” he was suddenly stopped by Atsumu with his hands on his mouth. Normally this would trigger the hell out of him, but knowing Atsumu these few days he got to know how clean the man was.

“Don’t ya just say that! It sounds weird in my own voice,” said the man completely red “but it sounds nice because I know it’s ya” 

It was Kiyoomi’s turn to turn red now. 

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t ya the one who wanted me to confess for the evil spirits? To say I’m crazy ‘bout ya?”

Kiyoomi took the glass and threw at him the last drops of water remaining inside.

“Hey! No sabotaging my confession!”

“Confess then.” Kiyoomi said in a momentum of bravery.

“Uhm…well…”

“C’mon, I’ll listen.”

“Yer eyes…uhm…yer eyes-they are so pre-pretty because they look black but they’re actually a really dark brown-”

“So you only like me for my looks, I see”

“No! It’s not just that! It’s just-”

“Atsumu! Door for you!” It was Hinata from the common room calling for him, probably outside his room, not knowing he spent the night at Kiyoomi’s.

“Coming!” said Atsumu, quickly shutting his mouth with his hands “Sorry, a reflex.”

“Saved by the bell I see,” Kiyoomi said standing up, right ankle still acting weird from the rare positions they slept in. 

Kiyoomi’s room was the one in front of the entrance door from the common rooms, he chose that one exactly so he had to spend the least amount of time around the house interacting with teammates unnecessarily.
When he got out of the bathroom and left the room, he was first welcomed with the sight of another Miya. Great, like dealing with just one was not enough. 

“Hey, Osamu-” he was meant to ask what his brother was doing here on a work day but was instantaneously interrupted. 

“Don’t Hey Osamu me! How come I get to know that ya’ve been benched for messing up yer ankle by Motoya out of all people! Not even Suna knew! And then Sunarin talked to me about being homophobic with ya and I don’t know why ya even care! Then I have to take a train to Osaka to see if my brother is dead to find him calling me Osamu out of all things!”

Right, the twins had nicknames for each other. Kiyoomi never bothered to learn them because it was none of his business. If he recalled correctly…

“Listen, ‘Samu,” the nickname rolled out of his tongue weirdly, but that wasn’t his main problem right now, “I don’t know what Motoya told you, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? You haven’t been answering my texts! And when you do, I can’t get more out than a two words response! When we saw each other last time you were all stiff and weird, and-”

At that moment, Atsumu couldn’t choose a better moment to make an apparition, out of the room in just boxers and one of his shirts.

That suddenly shut Osamu.

He retreated back a little, then went completely stiff. Eyes widening and laughed nervously.

“Kiyoomi, what the hell?”

“‘Samu! Hiiiiii!” The man attempted to get close, probably to hug his brother, but backed off at last moment probably for better judgement. “What’s with all the shouting? Is everything okay?”

“It’-It’s a thing between family, ya should go back to your room”

“He can stay,” Kiyoomi said seriously.

“What? Why?” 

“Just put on some pants first, yours .”

“What do ya mean min-ohh” he blushed a little. “Be right back”

When the other man retired to his room, Osamu hovered over Kiyoomi.

“What. the. Hell. were you doing in Sakusa’s room,” Ah, lost first name basis privilege. When they first met, they arranged to call each other by first names, to evade confusion but mostly to mess with Atsumu. “How come ya call him Osamu and ya call me Miya! And ya don’t even let me call ya Omi-kun” “There can’t be two Miyas, right Osamu?” “Right Kiyoomi” “and why is he using your shirt. And half naked. And yer half naked too! And why is he limping?! And ya don’t even have accent!” he said in a shout whisper way. 

“Everything has its rightful explanation-”

“We slept together,” Atsumu said nonchalantly, not being aware of the implication of his words.

Or maybe he was and just wanted to drive his brother crazy.

Which was working.

“Y’know what? That’s it. If ya wanna ruin your life and career that’s on ya” He turned halfway and left throughout the main entrance.

“What do ya mean my life and career!” He shouted, probably not being heard. “Imma kill that man- Ouch!” he said as he fell on the couch grabbing his leg. “This shit still hurts.”

“You should put on ice, I’ll talk to him.”

“Noooo! He’s so stubborn he’s not gonna listen to ya”

“Technically, I’m still his brother, and I shouldn’t let him go like that. Also, stop messing up with my body.”

“But what are ya gonna say? He’s mad at me for some reason we don’t know!”

Oh I do know

“Just trust me, okay? Do you trust me?”

“I mean, I don’t have another option to trust ya with my life” he said without a doubt. “Kinda literally.”

“Okay, if everything turns right I’ll be right back with him in a few moments.”

With that said, Kiyoomi left the common rooms and headed behind Osamu.

“Osamu, wait!” he said, grabbing his arm. “I know what you’re going through. Kind of. Actually I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“Let go, bitch!”

“Oh don’t call me a bitch. If someone is acting like a bitch it’s you. What kind of brother runs out when his twin comes out of the closet?”

“Oh shut up with that moral thing.”

“Do you think I’m disgusting?” asked Kiyoomi, this time completely seriously.

“I-I don’t kno- Of course not, yer my brother,” perfect. Some progress. “It’s just- It’s so sudden- and with a teammate”

“Suna is fucking Motoya and I don’t see you whining about it” Kiyoomi said without thinking, regretting his words instantly. Motoya was going to kill him.

“Sunarin is what-?!”

“Yeah, you didn’t hear that from me.” 

“That’s not- It cannot be true- he would have told me” perfect, he added another outrageous fact to Osamu’s mental breakdown. “He must have told me.”

“Why? Because you tell each other everything? Because you’ve been friends since high school? Don’t you think he tiptoed around the fact because he knew you would react like this.”

“I’m reacting like this ‘cause ya told me- If he were to told me- If he had told me it would be different” 

“I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about me and Ats-Kiyoomi! You saw us together and practically ambushed me with questions! And then left saying I’m ruining my life!”

“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have- It just-” Osamu leaned on the nearest wall and slowly came down until he was sat on the street floor. “Everything is so confusing right now. How come yer talking like that? Ya didn’t lose yer accent in nine years and now ya talk like a city boy! And ya don’t even live in Tokyo!” Kiyoomi just stood next to him, looking down at him.

“I’m sorry, my accent did change a little for certain…influences…but it should be back to normal soon”

“Soon when? It’s not something ya can control?” Osamu now hugged his legs and hid his head between them “And what do you mean certain influences ? Doesn’t Kiyoomi like how ya talk?”

He loves it  

“It’s not Kiyoomi…It is-I can’t explain it right now but I can assure everything will go back to normal” Kiyoomi was saying that more for him than for Osamu. Hoping. “Next week, next week everything will be okay.”

“Will ya be back to normal?”

“Of course”

“Will ya be straight?”

“I never was”

“You never were.” against his own will, Sakusa sat next to Osamu “I suppose I always knew. You’ve even tried Mom’s make up”

“That’s funny”

“It was.”

“How do you feel about Suna?”

“What does Sunarin have to do with all of this”

“Don’t think I don’t notice how you talk about him.”

“I don’t talk in any way about Sunarin”

“ Sometimes when the light hits just right his eyes are a bit amber. And his features are really pretty. I like how he always look calm, like he has no care in the world, and his lips seem really soft, and his nose- ”

“I can’t believe the first time ya hear what I say is when I’m talking about Sunarin” he said notoriously mad “and what about if I find him attractive? That’s not gay.”

“And what about him and Motoya? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice their chemistry when the three of you hang out together. Did you mistake it for camaraderie for being in the same team? They’re fucking. It’s been months”

“But I…but he- he promised he would never leave me”

“He didn’t leave you, he’s just fucking someone else since you’re a scarely cat who isn’t sure about his own sexuality and rejects his own brother” Maybe he was being a little harsh with him, but he was tired already, people weren't his strong form.“I don’t think you’re even unsure about your sexuality, you’re just so deep in negativity that you can even see what's in front of your eyes.

Your problem isn’t that I like Kiyoomi, you even like him. The problem is that you like a guy too and can’t even accept it for what? Mom? What are you, five?”

“Ya know nothing about me, don’t call me out like that, it’s like I’m not talking to my brother but a completely different person! Where did you learn to make arguments” That last part came out jokingly “So if what yer saying it’s true, what are we, both gay?”

“We could be bisexual, or pan, or among other things”

“Where the hell did ya learnt that”

“Amm- Suna?” Kiyoomi tried. And it worked.

“Y’know, wherever ya go, I go. But ya always loved volleyball more than me. And I always loved cooking more than ya. But we are still together, our paths still interlace. And we’re always at the same page. So the point is- the point is…” Osamu started crying.

Then Kiyoomi realised. This was never about him or Atsumu.

“The point is if I can like guys, you can too.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He put his head against Kiyoomi’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be the one having this heart to heart. It was another thing he was stealing from Atsumu and couldn’t help but feel guilty for that. “It’s been on the back of my mind for a long time, but I always thought ‘ If ‘Tsumu doesn’t feel like this then I don’t too’ but now yer into it and I- I don’t know what to feel.”

“The only thing you have left to feel are your true feelings. What do you feel about Suna, what do you feel about Motoya?”

“Today it’s their day off, I should go to Nagano, shouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you think it's going to be worse because they’re probably going to be together?”

“I’ll prove Motoya who’s in charge”

“Don’t be cruel with him, they’re just friends.” Kiyoomi tried. He probably just broke his cousin’s heart, but it was doomed from the start.

“Yeah, friends, I thought we were that too but you don’t see the three of us fucking”

“Thank you for the mental image.”

“No problem. And I trust ya. Whatever yer has going on I trust ya can solve it on your own. I just get worried sometimes. I hope what yer saying it’s true and next week everything is back to normal.”

I hope so too.

“What did ya say to him? Did ya tell the truth? What did he say? Are we okay? Is he gonna kill me while I’m in yer body? Because that would be inconvenient-” Kiyoomi was bombarded with questions as soon as he entered the common room, with Atsumu on the couch with his leg up with ice as how he asked. 

“I told him what I had to. He isn’t here because he had an epiphany and had to work with that. But everything’s okay now. He isn’t going to kill any of us.” The day just started and Kiyoomi was already tired of dealing with people. The only way he could engage in any form of socialization was through volleyball, and with the excuse of being benched the team will probably not pay too much attention to him, preparing for the incoming game this Friday. It was a Tuesday and he didn’t have much to do than answer Atsumu’s uncountable questions and prepare for morning practice.

That’s when they heard something glassy breaking and then someone started sobbing. Great, another thing to add to the day, a broken plate and another crying person.

“This time it’s your turn to check on the crying person.”

“Did ya make ‘Samu cry?!” Atsumu retorted “And yer asking the limping man to go to the kitchen?”

“You seem so lively today, almost don’t need the crutches and have already done your exercises.” Atsumu just looked at him, “Please, go, I can’t handle more social interactions today and it’s only 7 a.m.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. But if I cut myself with the glass I’m blaming ya”

“That would be just your stupidities doing”

“Oh shut up”

…

When Atsumu arrived at the scene, there was already a Bokuto clutching down next to a sobbing Hinata and a plate of food broken on the floor. 

“My, my, what happened here? Did ya cut yerself Shou-kun?”

The man started to cry harder while nodding “I cut my finger! How I’m gonna play volleyball!”

“Omi-kun?” Bokuto hopefully asked.

“Nope.”

“Damn, I had faith in it.” 

“What are you talking about?” said Hinata in tears.

“Don’t worry my disciple! It’s just a small scratch, I bet it’ll be healed by Friday!”

At the mention of the Friday match, Hinata started whining.

“I’m not gonna play-!” he hid his face between his bloody hands. Damn fingers having so many blood vessels.

“C’mon it’s not that big deal-”

“-I’ve got benched! I’m not gonna play this match!”

Well that was new.

“How come…”

“Let’s clean this first and then we talk” Bokuto said, being the voice of reason surprisingly again. “I’ll look for the first aid kit and then I’ll cook something for you while you talk to Atsu-I mean Omi-kun”

Hinata stood up shakingly, looking at the mess he made on the floor, and helped Atsumu to get on the couch, no sign of Kiyoomi in the living room, probably retreated to his own room to prepare for morning practice.
They sat together and Atsumu hugged Shouyou with one arm and obliged him to put his head on his shoulder.

“Calm down, everything is gonna be alright. Do ya wanna tell me why you’ve got benched?”

“I-I actually asked for it” Atsumu was surprised at that. The Hinata Shouyou not wanting to play a match? That was crazier than whatever was going on between him and Kiyoomi. “It’s just- It’s just I’ve been having so many shitty days that I don’t want to mess up on the game, y’know?”

“But you always had overcomed what was presented to you! You even played with a fever!”

“And that taught me when I have to back down. I don’t know what’s been going on!” he said while wiping the tears from his eyes “First the thing with the shampoo, then receive a volleyball to the face after years , and then I lose my phone in the train to Miyagi and have to come home drenched because it started raining!

But that’s not it! I’ve been losing my keys everywhere I go, my shoes are always untied and I fall from that, I spilled my coffee on my shirt three times in a row, I dropped my phone endlessly when I still had it , I burnt my toast when I was in a hurry to met Kageyama-kun, I fought with Atsumu-san, I tripped on nothing and hoped no one saw me and last time i checked my hair is still green! I don’t want to dye it black! I’m a ginger, that’s my key charm!

And when playing volleyball, my body doesn’t feel right, it’s like I’m a doll controlled by a puppeteer, everything is stiff and I feel disconnected, and I’m not dissociating! Or maybe I am, I don’t know anything anymore.My plays are off, my serves are off, I can’t coordinate my feet, when I spike the ball it barely goes where I want it to go and when I go to dig I always end up crashing with Inunaki or someone else!

I don’t know what else to do, Omi-san” he rambled with watery eyes and choking mid sentences and the only thing Atsumu assumed to do was to hug the little man harder. “It’s been a whole five days since this started and I don’t know what triggered it! It’s like I’m cursed!”

Wait.

Five days?!

“Hey! Isn’t that when-” Bokuto said entering the room with the first aid kit.

“Ya don’t say anything!” Atsumu shouted.

“Shut up, you don’t even know what I was going to say” Bokuto said, kneeling in front of Hinata and grabbing his hands and cleaning them from the blood. “It wasn’t that when you made the macumba ? Maybe it backfired…”

“ Macumba ? What’s a macumba ?” Atsumu asked, frighteningly confused.

“I think Kageyama-kun was going to propose and I ruined it” Hinata whispered, no light behind his eyes.

“How do you know he was going to propose?”

“He was on one knee!”

“Maybe he was tying his shoes,” Bokuto tried. 

“You don’t understand, the setting was so romantic, even for such an airhead like him!” He started crying again.

“Can you stop ignoring me?! What’s a macumba ?”

“Oh it’s just a magic spell from Latam for lovers,” Bokuto said nonchalantly “works for other things too”

“Ya did a magic spell!? Inside of the house?!”

“I just wanted to make you and Atsumu-san get along! But even that didn’t work out! And now the three of us are benched!”

“Ya knew ‘bout this?” Atsumu turned to Bokuto, who just nodded “And why didn’t ya mention it when we were at Keiji-kun’s?!”

“What do you mean? It was just a spell to get along, it has nothing to do with your current situation .”

“Umm guys, I don’t want to be self-centered, but this is my mental breakdown…”

“Right, I’ll cook some breakfast for you in a second!” Bokuto left happily to the kitchen, as if he didn’t leave Atsumu with more questions than answers.

“Say, Shou-kun” Appearances didn’t matter anymore, he was going to use the nicknames he wanted. “About this marimba -”

“ Macumba ”

“Right, macumba , ya’ve made…It involves me and Kiyo-I mean Omi- I mean Atsumu”

“You call him Atsumu now? That’s some progress! I’m happy, "he said smiling. “And you’re sticking to kansai-ben, is it because now you spend more time together?”

“I’m back!” Bokuto came from the kitchen with a bowl of yoghurt with fruits and granola “There you go, eat my disciple and wash the pain away.”

“Thank you Bokuto-san,” he said bowing. “This is so tasty!”

“Thanks! It’s handmade yoghurt that Keiji makes for me on the weekends!”

“Ah, Bokuto-san, you shouldn’t have,” Atsumu was spiraling. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He wanted to scream at Shouyou for meddling in his life, but the poor man was having enough.

But maybe it was his chance to resolve all of this.
He had to be super cautious with his words.

“Yer macumba worked,” or maybe just blurt it all out “but not in the way ya think”

…

Sakusa was in Atsumu’s room preparing for morning practice, evading whatever was going on in the kitchen. His social interaction skills were drained and he couldn’t deal with any more conflict. 

That’s when he heard a knocking on his door.

Great. He thought. Just what I needed.

He opened the door to find Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata clutching at the frame of the door. Hinata’s eyes were still red, probably he was the one crying.

“Omi-san?” Hinata tried.

“Yes?” He said unconsciously “I mean, what about him?”

“I told him everything” Atsumu whispered

“What?!” his day started to be more and more awful “Why the hell would you do that?!”

“This is crazy! I can’t believe you swapped bodies! That’s why you two were so bad at volleyball!”

“No, no,” Kiyoomi tried to calm himself down. “ Omi-omi is just playing a prank on you,” he said between teeth.

“There’s no way Omi-san would prank anyone!”

“Hey! I can be fun, though!” Breaking character. Again . 

“Yeah, remember the creepy ‘I know what you did’ note? That was him” Bokuto apported

“That wasn’t a prank! He stole my umeboshi and then didn’t clean the dishes! I had to deal with little cockroaches!” He defended himself. Everything was lost now. Hinata knew . He was going to tell other people and they were going to be jailed in a psych ward forever.

“We’re getting out of the point,” Atsumu interrupted, clapping his hands. “I told him because maybe he knows how to reverse this!”

“Me?”

“Him?!” both said in unison. 

“Yes, you! You did the macumba , there has to be a way to reverse it back, right?” Atsumu said hopefully. 

“ Well, I don’t know, I didn’t expect this to happen!” Hinata said “And I’m sorry for causing both of you so much trouble!” he said, bending down in apology.

“Yeah, yeah, save it for later.” Atsumu said, waving a hand to dismiss it “Let’s brainstorm how to get out of this! I can take another practice with these wrists, I swear something will pop!" With that said, and against Sakusa’s will, they let themselves into the room.

“Okay, first things first! What did you do?” asked Bokuto

“First thing first” Sakusa mimicked Bokuto “What’s a macumba ?”

“A love spell”

“Something weird from Brazil”

“A curse,” said Hinata lifelessly. “I’ve been warned about these things, but I didn’t expect this outcome…”

“Warned by who?”

“Oh! Oika-san!”

“Oikawa Tooru? The Argentinian setter?” Hinata nodded.  “I swear that fucker is always messing with me in some way or another”

“He lives across the world, leave your main character complex for another moment” Sakusa said blatantly. “So Oikawa-san told you what to do?”

“Yes! I kept some notes, let me look in my room!” Hinata left for a few moments and came back with a scrappy piece of paper “Okay first I had to get a photo of both of you -that was easy-, and then write your names and birthday with a black pen and put those on a shoe and wear it for three days. Then I had to get agüita de tanga and have you drink it, which of course I didn’t-”

“What’s agüita de tanga ?” asked Atsumu curious.

“Underwear juice” Hinata answered casually, “So, as I was saying-”

“You made us drink what?!” Sakusa said scandalised.

“I said that of course I didn’t, that’s disgusting! What I did was get your after practice t-shirts and use that water to dip the photos and then put them in the freezer.”

“That’s what’s in the freezer?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, you did a lot of things, and how do we revert them?”

“I have no idea. Anyone?” Everyone looked lost.“Maybe we should make a call to Oika-san.”

“You put them in the freezer ? Ha!” Oikawa Tooru was laughing on the screen. “That’s for players, you silly!”

There were four people sitting in front of the computer who decided to skip morning practice, Bokuto, Hinata, Atsumu and Sakusa. They called Oikawa as soon as possible, being 7 p.m. in the afternoon in Argentina.

“But they are players!”

“No, it’s not like that! ¡Sos un boludo, Shou-chan !” (You’re an idiot-slang-, Shou-chan!”

“ ¡No me digas boludo! ” (Don’t call me idiot-slang-!)

“You speak Spanish, Shou-kun?” Bokuto asked.

“Yes! I’ve been studying it, I have to beat Kageyama-kun in knowing more languages!”

“Anyways, guys, let me introduce you to a friend of mine; Camila,” a young girl appeared on the screen. “She's my neighbour's cousin, and she’s a witch!”

“ Un gusto en conocerlos chicos, Toto me habló mucho de ustedes, especialmente de Miya Atsumu, ¿quién de ustedes es? ” (Nice to meet you guys, Toto talked so much about you, especially about Miya Atsumu, ¿which one of you is that?)

“Camila!”

“Hey! I recognized my name! What did she said, Shou-kun?”

“That Oika-san talked about all of us, especially you”

“Ha! A hater became a fan, I should have known that you idolize me”

“Only bad things she heard I’m afraid, Miya” Oikawa retorted. “Okay, let me introduce yourselves.”

Oikawa presented them and explained the current situation. At that, Camila laughed.

“ ¡Pero eso es imposible! ¡Tenés que tener muy mala leche para que pase algo así! ” (But that’s impossible! You have to have such bad luck-slang- for something like that to happen)

“ Aparentemente la tienen. Shou-chan no me hubiera llamado de otra manera. Últimamente, ni siquiera me llama. ” (Apparently, they have. Shou-chan wouldn’t have called me otherwise. Lately he doesn’t even call me.)

“Sorry Oika-san! I’ve been so busy lately! And I lost my phone this week!”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“¿ Podés repetirme lo que hiciste, Hinata? ” (Can you repeat what you did, Hinata?)

Hinata explained once again the process of the macumba , this time in Spanish. Camila just emitted little laughs and ended with a surprised face.

“ Bueno, realmente hiciste cosas ” (Well you really did stuff) Camila said “ Tres macumbas en una, no lo puedo creer. (Three macumbas in one, I can’t believe it)

Lo primero que hiciste se llama ‘amarre’, vinculándolos a los dos de forma ligera. No es un amarre tan fuerte y es casi inofensivo. Lo de la ropa ya es un poco más de magia antigua, que puede ser lo que te esté dando este mal karma que estás pasando. Lo de congelarlos en el freezer es lo que les impide ser buenos en el voley y probablemente hayan tenido algún que otro accidente. Deberías sacar las fotos de la heladera lo antes posible, ya que eso también genera mal karma. ” (The first thing you did is called ‘amarre’, linking them slightly. It’s not a strong amarre and it’s almost inofensive. The clothes thing is a little more ancient magic, which may be what’s giving you such bad karma. The freezing them it’s what neglects them for being good at volleyball and they probably have one or another accident. You should take the pictures out of the refrigerator as soon as possible, since that gives you bad karma too.)

“¿ Pero ustedes no ganaron así el mundial? ¿Congelando jugadores? ¿Cuál fue su mal karma? ” (But isn’t that how you won the World Cup? Freezing players? What was your bad karma?)

“ Javier Milei para presidente 2023-2027 ” (Javier Milei for president from 2023 to 2027)

“I see. Okay, I’ll be right back with the pics” Said Hinata while Oikawa translated to the others what they were saying.

When Hinata came back, he looked a bit nervous. “Okay, I see where I messed up” He showed the frozen photos and then the reverse. Instead of saying Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi correspondingly the names were interchanged in the wrong picture, the one with Miya saying Sakusa Kiyoomi in the reverse and vice versa.

“How could ya possibly mess up something so simple!”

“It was late at night and I was nervous!”

“¿ Qué está pasando? ” (What’s happening?) Camila asked. Oikawa explained it to her. Then; “ Podemos hacer el ritual con huevo. Y hay que cambiar los nombres en esas fotos, usando las mismas para estar seguros, y ponerlas de vuelta en el freezer por al menos una noche. ” (We can make the egg ritual. And we have to change the names on these photos, using the same ones just to be sure, and put them back in the freezer for at least a night. 

“Okay guys, we need three white candles, three eggs, three glasses of water, three incenses and salt. Let’s get to work!” Oikawa translated what Camila asked for, clapping his hands.

Hinata crossed out the names and wrote the actual ones in the photos, and then went to the kitchen and brought the things with the help of Bokuto.

“Waahhh this is so fun, I can’t wait to tell Keiji!”

“Says you who doesn’t have to walk looking like this,” said Kiyoomi.

“But ya said I was good looking!”

“And you believed me?”

“Ya wound me, Omi-kun!” Kiyoomi playfully pushed him aside, ending their little banter.

“Okay, it says here…” Oikawa said while reading through some book. Where the hell did it come from? “You have to lit the candle and the incense and put the glass in the middle, one for each of you-”

“Why do I have to do this? I haven’t switched with anybody,” asked Hinata

“Because you made the spell. Without protection . Technically you’re the one in more danger right now.”

“Ek!” Hinata shivered.

“Then you have to pass the egg through your entire body, touching all the skin-”

“This is disgusting, this thing literally came out of a chicken ass”

“And then break the egg in the glass, if it floats or blows bubbles-Woah”

The three eggs floated, denoting they were cursed, but Hinata’s egg was blowing bubbles and slowly turning black.

“That’s scary!” said Bokuto.

“That’s it, I’m never doing anything nice for my friends,” said Hinata, gulping.

“Again, no one asked you for this,”

“Don’t be mean, Omi-kun”

“Okay, what now?” asked Atsumu.

“Now you pour salt in each of the glasses, supposedly that would wear off the bad stuff, and then we have to wait until the candle consumes itself and then throw it all on the toilet.”

“What a waste of food, we could have made omurice…” said Bokuto sadly.

“I don’t think Hinata’s egg will work for that. It looks like something it’s gonna come out of that thing.”

“Don’t jinx it!”

“Don’t tell me you believe in that thing too.”

“You literally swapped bodies with someone and don’t believe in jinxes?”

“That’s what I told him!” Atsumu said.

“Ok, now we wait.”

…

The rest of the day went as normal as it could.
Meian scolded the four of them for skipping practice, saying that being benched is no excuse to slack off. They had no reasonable excuses so just accepted and promised to remend things in afternoon practice.

Bokuto was on a call with his boyfriend, telling him all the recent events, Hinata was analysing if dying his hair red or black and Atsumu, well, was doing stuff. Stuff he didn’t want to comment with anyone, even Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi wanted to talk to Atsumu. Voluntary . That shit was crazy.
But he wanted to know what they were to each other, and what was the next step in their relationship. But the man seemed to be occupied, going from one place to another, and making a few calls.
He still owed him a confession. Kiyoomi knew he was liked by the other man, but wanted to hear it in his own words. He pretended he didn’t care he was being ignored, but it was eating him inside out. It was the first time he was so open and vulnerable about something and this is how he was being treated? And Atsumu must know it. 

His heart ached a little.

I just have to wait, Kiyoomi though, at least he can’t ignore me in practice .

…

Or he can.

He made a stupid excuse about his ankle not feeling right to skip practice. Kiyoomi knew it was an excuse because this morning he told him he felt better, practically able to play again.

So not only was he ignoring him, but also he was making him seem weak. Great .

Was it something Kiyoomi said? Did he not want him anymore? Was he just confused and he was actually straight? Did he not want to be involved romantically with a teammate?

Practice was okay, he was finally adjusting to being a setter, but still had complications with this body.
After that, he took a long shower in Atsumu’s bathroom, mostly to clear his mind and mostly because Atsumu didn’t want to switch rooms. 

He was hiding something there, Kiyoomi knew, because when he went to say goodnight as an excuse to at least have some interaction with the man, he just stayed at the door frame and gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

Kiyoomi went to sleep with a knot on his throat.

Sakusa is used to waking up disoriented. He normally wakes up at least twice at night, without counting the time he dreams he is waking up. So when he opens his eyes and doesn’t recognize Atsumu’s room, he just decides to close his eyes again and roll to the other side. The mattress was firm, just how he liked it. He was feeling cold, and his clothed legs and arms didn’t suffice the warmth he needed.

Someone is now knocking the door. Who the fuck decides to annoy him this early in the morning? His alarm didn’t even go off. Most of his teammates go for a run, and even if they decide to stay, they know better than to bother him. It’s not like people go to him when they want something, he does his best to stay out of other people's business. He pretends to be asleep, not opening his eyes again even if the other person can’t see him. 

The knocking goes again and he’s fully awake now, it seems like they won’t leave him alone. 

Then he noticed.

He was in his room, but it was fully decorated with peonies. Kiyoomi recognized them because they were his favourites, but who else knew this? 

“I’ll come in a second, I have to change first.” His voice sounds weird, not only the I just woke up weird type, but it’s a bit low even for Atsumu’s morning voice. He observes the room again that he does recognize . The confusion makes his sight dizzy and kinda blurry.

He stands up and almost falls when he steps on a vase full of flowers, luckily he didn’t knock it out. He goes to the bathroom, one he also does recognize, and stares at his reflection. 

His reflection. At this point he was used to looking at himself from an outsider point of view, but this time, the man in the mirror copied his surprised face.

Normally when I notice I’m in a dream I can force myself to wake up, Kiyoomi thinks. He closes his eyes and imagines that he’s waking up in Atsumu’s bed, the warmth hitting him, the softness of his naked skin and an uncomfortable mattress that’s way too soft. He made his best efforts to stop the rain of thoughts that were forming at the back of his head. 

Thoughts like

Finally, it worked! I’m in my body again, ouch, my ankle hurts

This is a completely sad dream, there’s no way it was that easy

And finally

Why would my room be full of flowers?

“If yer not openin’ the door I’m bargin’ in!” A voice says breaking any attempt of concentration  he was having. “It was my room after all!” he hoped at the sound, never thought he could be this happy to hear that annoying voice. That’s when he noticed a little sticky note in his mirror. It was a simple three word note.

‘I like ya <3’

A warmth inundated his heart.

“There ya are! Aren’t ya happy? It worked!”

“You did this?” Kiyoomi hoped.

“What? Yeah of course I did this, I’m just setting the mood!”

“Setting the mood for what?”

“My confession!” Atsumu said casually, “I spent the entire night writing it! It should be here somewhere…” he said looking through the desk.

“How did you know I like peonies?”

“I asked that cousin of yers! He was more than happy to help me, saying that ya finally stopped being a caveman with yer feelings-Here!” He said, waving in the air a yellow A4 sized paper.

“Dear Kiyoomi,” he started, blushing furiously, but continued nonetheless, “I like looking at ya-Ah fuck it.” He crumpled the paper and threw it to the trash can with the aim of someone who spent years practicing for this moment. “The thing is, I like ya. A lot to be fair. Those two moles on your forehead and those in yer entire body are driving me insane. Yer eyes are so pretty that I get lost every time we make eye contact and can’t help but say the most stupid things.”

“Nice you finally admit everything that comes out of your mouth is stupid”

“Shut yer trap! And not this time.” Atsumu inhaled, he was notoriously nervous “But it’s not only for yer looks that I like ya. Yer a super handsome man but also yer super annoyin’ and I love that. I love how ya antagonises me every opportunity ya have. I love our daily banters, our daily gossip and our daily everything.

I can’t get enough of yer quiet intensity. The way ya speaks sparingly but makes every word count, how ya listens more than ya talks, but yer rare compliments feel like winnin’ the lottery. I secretly love yer stubbornness—how ya refuses to compromise on things that matter to ya, like personal space or yer meticulous routines—because it shows depth and care, not just obsession.

The way ya laughs, too. That barely-there huff of amusement when I crack a bad joke or mess up my tosses on purpose just to get a reaction. It's quiet but real, and I treasure it like a secret.

Even yer flaws intrigues me. The way yer mask hides half yer beautiful face, making yer expressions a puzzle I am constantly piecing together. The way ya fusses over cleanliness, because it means ya cares —about yer health, yer career, yer teammates.” 

Kiyoomi was now super red. It was the first time he finally felt seen. He felt seen as more than the mildly cleanliness obsessed, mildly germaphobic, volleyball obsessed man that he also is.  It was way too much, but it didn’t stop there, Atsumu was just regaining his breath.

"Oi, Kiyoomi… ya got any idea what ya do t’me when ya play?

It’s—ugh, it’s annoyin’ how good ya are, y’know? The way ya hit the ball—so damn clean, so sharp—it’s like ya ain’t even tryin’, but I know ya are. I see it. The way ya hold back, keepin’ it all controlled till ya really let loose? Drives me crazy. ‘Cause when ya do? When ya stop overthinkin’ n’ just go for it —hell, it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Gives me chills, honestly.

And that serves… Don’t even get me started. The way ya stand there, all serious like ya own the whole court, n’ then ya just snap —n’ the ball’s spinnin’ like it’s tryin’ to disappear. Half the time, I’m watchin’ ya more than the damn ball. Ain’t fair.

But it ain't just how ya play, Omi. It’s how ya trust me. How ya never question my sets, even when I push it a lil’ too far—ya just go for it . No hesitation, no doubt. Like ya know I wouldn’t let ya down. D’ya even realize how much that means? Havin’ ya believe in me like that?

So yeah, maybe I get a lil’ distracted watchin’ ya. Maybe I toss half my sets t’ya ‘cause it feels too damn good seein’ ya crush ‘em. But can ya blame me? You're just… You're amazin’, Kiyoomi. And I dunno how to stop feelin’ like this."

“Do you want to stop feeling like this?” Kiyoomi asked, dubiously for a moment.

“Wait! No, of course not. Feeling like this is the best thing that happened to me. Well, maybe the second, the first knowin’ my feelings are reciprocated.”

“Yeah, they are.”

They stood in silence awkwardly for a few seconds.

“Can we be boyfriends now?” Atsumu asked shyly.

“Only if I can kiss you first.”

Without wasting any moment, Atsumu was suddenly in all his space, lingering, yearning.
Kiyoomi put a hand in his face, and Atsumu chased the touch. One of the other man's hands hugged his waist, only with one arm being able to hold the entirety of it. Kiyoomi’s heart skipped a beat. Or three. Or five. Atsumu’s eyes were looking directly into his, waiting, longing, trying to not break the momentum. Then, those golden eyes were on his lips and Kiyoomi couldn’t wait anymore and kissed him.

It was a chaste, soft kiss. Similar to the one they shared when they were in each other’s body, but this time it was filled with love instead of shame.

After a few seconds, he felt Atsumu’s tongue asking for permission for the intrusion, and Kiyoomi was more than happy to let him be. He tasted like mint, probably washed his teeth before, and the thought of Atsumu just doing it for Kiyoomi’s comfort made his chest flourish with a passion he didn’t know he could generate. Because of course the first thing they were going to do after exchanging bodies back was kissing. After such a long journal, that was the least they deserved.

They separated, slowly. Eyes still in each other’s lips. 

“Woah. That was-woah” said Atsumu eloquently.

“My boyfriend has such a way with words.”

“Oh shut up! And keep calling me your boyfriend. And kiss me again.”

“As you wish, dear boyfriend.”

This time the kiss was more intense.
It wasn’t gentle. Teeth grazed, lips parted in a desperate pull, tongues tangling in a rhythm that felt more like a battle than a surrender. One gasped into the other's mouth, a broken sound that only made the kiss deepen, rougher, their bodies pressing impossibly closer. Fingertips traced along the nape of Atsumu’s neck, digging in just enough to make the other shiver, to draw out that soft, involuntary noise they couldn’t quite suppress.

They were having the time of their lives, and they could have gone further if it wasn’t for the knock on the door.

“It better be worth it, whoever that is!” Atsumu shouted, separating himself from Kiyoomi’s embrace and opening the door.

It was Hinata.

“Did it work guys?!”

“Yeah, bye” Atsumu said as he closed the door to his face.

“Atsumu!” said Kiyoomi at the same time they heard another knock on the door.

“What? I’m occupied with my boyfriend.”

“We have more than time to do that, now open the door to poor Hinata-kun”

“Ugh, yer lucky I’m crazy ‘bout ya.”

He opened the door again and this time it was Hinata and Bokuto at the door.

“Did it work?” Bokuto asked.

“Yep.” Kiyoomi said nonchalantly.

“Let’s fucking gooooo!” Bokuto said, hugging them both and then throwing Atsumu into the air. Damn, that man was really something. “I can finally have my Tsum-tsum and my Omi-kun back”

“Please don’t call me that.” Kiyoomi said, knowing it was a lost cause.

“Can I call ya that?”

“Nope.” Atsumu deflated, not like he was going to ignore him and call him however he wanted. Just how Kiyoomi liked it. “You must call me Kiyoomi from now on.”

Atsumu's face was on fire. Kiyoomi couldn’t negate the tips of his ears were too.

“Ya can’t say that in front of them, oh my God.”

“Wow, why the change of heart Omi-san?”

“We’re boyfriends now.”

“Hey! I wanted to announce it!”

“You have plenty of opportunities with our PR Team.”

“Nooooo, bureaucracy, my worst nightmare.”

“No way guys, congratulations!”

“Yeah, after all you suffered it’s finally over!”

They celebrated a little more with hugs and whatever, then Meian appeared. 

“What are the four of you planning?”

“Nothing.” The four of them said in unison. 

“That’s utterly suspicious. Anyways, I have faith in the fact that you’re not going to skip, again .”

“No, Cap”

“No, Captain”

“Of course, Meian-san”

“Sure, Cap”

They resumed their celebration and walked to their respective rooms to change for practice.

…

Practice went amazing for Atsumu.

His sets flowed perfectly, his movements back to their familiar rhythm. He tossed the ball for a serve, felt his body respond the way it should, and nailed an ace with his usual flair.

From across the court, Sakusa nodded approvingly. No words, just silent acknowledgment.

Sakusa was in his element too, those snappy wrists of his doing their work in spinning  the ball correctly. 

Obviously, after five days in each other's bodies, they still had their delayed reactions, Atsumu over-controlling himself when spiking and Kiyoomi having a better feet reaction now. 

They were fine, technically speaking. Kiyoomi spikes were as powerful as ever, his serves hit their mark—but there was something off . A half-second of hesitation before each jump. A stiffness in his approach.

No one else seemed to notice, but Atsumu could tell.

When practice ended, most of the team cleared out, already making plans for food. Sakusa lingered behind, wiping down his face, posture tight.

Atsumu watched from the doorway. Then sighed.

“Oi, Omi. Wait up.”

Sakusa froze mid-towel swipe but didn’t turn around. “What?”

Atsumu shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Look, uh… I get it. Feels weird, huh? Bein’ back. Like yer still a step behind.”

Sakusa's grip on the towel tightened slightly. He didn’t respond.

Atsumu sighed, softer this time. “It’s okay, y’know? We’ll get back into the groove. Happens. Not like ya forgot how to play or nothin’.”

Silence stretched between them before Sakusa finally exhaled.

“…It’s not that.” He turned, finally meeting Atsumu’s gaze. His voice was quieter than usual. “I just… keep thinking about how easily we could’ve screwed everything up. How bad it felt to not be in control. And—” His jaw clenched. “I hated it.”

Atsumu blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“Yeah, well…” He stepped closer, bumping his shoulder lightly against Sakusa’s. “It ain’t like ya crashed and burned. We survived. Team didn’t fall apart. Hinata’s face is mostly fine. So… maybe stop beatin’ yerself up over it, huh?”

Sakusa blinked, lips parting slightly, but no words came.

Atsumu shrugged. “Besides, we learned somethin’, right? Yer not actually as perfect as ya act. And yer crazy about me”

The corner of Sakusa’s mouth twitched. The tip of his ears were furiously red. “And you’re not as flawless as you pretend to be, either. And you’re totally insane about me too.” It was now Atsumu’s turn to turn red.

A beat.

“…Bet I could still land a serve right in your face, though.”

Atsumu grinned, the tension finally breaking. “Oh yeah? Try me. Loser buys dinner.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes but, for once, didn’t argue. “It’s a date then.”

Things weren’t perfect. But they were better .

And that was enough.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of practice, and for the first time in a while, both of them felt like themselves again—stronger, and with a new level of respect for each other's roles on the court.

Hinata was doing better too, the amount of bad luck currently reduced as he was playing like himself too.

In the locker room, Atsumu and Kiyoomi were chatting quietly, planning on that date, when Meian suddenly ambushed them.

“What the hell was that?” 

“Sorry, Cap, but what did I miss?” Atsumu asked, slightly uneasy.

“You spend five days playing terribly-”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad!”

“-And now you play like you did the first day you entered the team!”

“Is that a good thing?” Atsumu asked shyly.

“It's splendid!” Meian answered “What triggered this sudden behaviour?”

“Ya wouldn’t believe it, Cap, but black magic.” he said as he passed next to him with a tap on his shoulder, to get to the showers, giving him his back.

“Indeed, a marimba ” Said Kiyoomi, following Atsumu.

“ Macumba !” said Hinata, overhearing their conversation.

“The three of you are no longer benched” Meian shouted “You hear me? You’d better put all your effort into this!”

“Yes Captain!” they said in unison.