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“I’m going on a date.”
The words had barely left Hinata’s mouth before the entire MSBY4 apartment descended into chaos.
Bokuto choked so hard on his rice that it shot out of his nose. His chair scraped against the floor as he half-stood, knocking his knee against the table. “HUHHH?!” His voice cracked, eyes wild, like Hinata had just announced he was quitting volleyball to become a tax accountant. “HINATA! A DATE?! WHEN? WHERE? WHO? ARE YOU IN LOVE?!”
Across the table, Sakusa didn’t even look up from his bowl. “Chew your food, Bokuto.”
But Bokuto was far from the only one reacting. Atsumu, who had been mid-bite into a piece of grilled fish, froze so dramatically it was like time itself stopped. His jaw hung open. His eye twitched. Then, slowly, he placed his food down and turned to stare at Hinata.
“…What?”
Hinata blinked. “What?”
“What,” Atsumu repeated, enunciating each syllable with barely restrained horror, “do ya mean, ‘what’?! What do ya mean, yer goin’ on a date?!”
“Uh, I mean, I’m going on a date?” Hinata repeated, confused at why this was such a big deal. “Like… normal people do?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to?”
“That’s—That’s stupid.” Atsumu scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What kinda date? Who is it? Where are ya goin’? When? How’d ya even—like—why—” His words were coming out in a frantic mess, and even Bokuto, who had been seconds away from shaking Hinata for details, was now watching him with mild interest.
Hinata frowned. “Why are you acting weird?”
“I ain’t actin’ weird!” Atsumu shot back instantly. “Yer the one bein’ weird, goin’ on some random date all of a sudden—”
“Let him go.” Sakusa finally spoke up, still calm as ever. “He’s a grown adult.”
Atsumu whipped around, staring at Sakusa like he had been betrayed. “Ya agree with this?! Yer just lettin’ him run around meetin’ strangers? What if it’s a creep?”
“Then he can deal with it himself.” Sakusa took another slow bite of his food. “Or call the police. Whichever.”
Atsumu made a face like that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. “Still stupid.”
Hinata scowled. “It’s not stupid! It’s normal! I—” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You bring girls back here all the time, but I’m not allowed to go on one date?”
Bokuto gasped. Sakusa exhaled sharply through his nose, like he had been waiting for someone to say it.
Atsumu visibly jolted. “I—Th—” His mouth opened and closed a few times before he barked out, “That’s different!”
“HOW IS THAT DIFFERENT?”
“It just is! It’s—It’s not the same!”
Hinata threw his arms up. “Oh, right, sorry, I forgot that Miya Atsumu is allowed to sleep around, but I have to stay pure like some kind of volleyball shrine maiden—”
“I AIN’T SLEEPIN’ AROUND!” Atsumu shot back, looking way too guilty for someone making that claim.
Sakusa, deadpan: “You had a girl over two nights ago.”
Hinata groaned, rubbing his temples. “Okay, whatever, it doesn’t matter! My point is, you don’t see me judging you for hooking up with girls, so why do you care so much if I go on one date?”
Atsumu scoffed. “I don’t care.”
Hinata gave him a long, unimpressed look. “You definitely care.”
“I—I—” Atsumu’s jaw snapped shut. His fingers curled into his sweatpants like he was physically restraining himself. Then, out of nowhere, he blurted, “Ya should date Omi-kun! He’s free!”
Silence.
Hinata stared at him like he had grown a second head.
Sakusa, mid-chew, froze. His expression didn’t change, but somehow, the room got colder.
Bokuto, ever the agent of chaos, gasped dramatically. “OOOOOH, Omi-kun and Shoyo?! A power couple! That’d be kinda hot, not gonna lie—”
Atsumu whipped around. “DON’T AGREE WITH ME.”
“Then why’d you say it?!”
Atsumu looked caught. “B—Because! ‘Cause Omi-kun’s, y’know, responsible! And—And clean! No diseases! And he wouldn’t—wouldn’t take advantage of ya!”
Sakusa stood abruptly, picking up his bowl. “I’m going to eat in my room.” He turned to Atsumu. “If you ever suggest dating me again, I will suffocate you in your sleep.”
The bedroom door shut with a loud click . Hinata let out a strangled noise before throwing his hands up. “I give up. You’re all insane.”
“I ain’t insane,” Atsumu muttered, arms crossed. “Ya know what? Fine. Go on yer little date.”
“THANK YOU.”
“I won’t even say ‘I told ya so’ when it sucks.”
“IT WON’T SUCK.”
Atsumu muttered something incomprehensible under his breath before stabbing his rice with all the force of a man battling personal demons.
Hinata scowled at him for another few seconds before turning on his heel. He stomped over to the door, shoving his sneakers on a little too aggressively.
Seriously, what was Atsumu’s problem? Why was he being so weird about this?
Like—fine, yeah, Hinata wasn’t exactly the dating type. He had spent so much of his life focused on volleyball that he never really thought about it much. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t date. He had gotten asked out a few times, and this time, he had actually decided to say yes. It wasn’t a big deal.
And yet Atsumu was over there acting like Hinata had just committed a crime.
Which made no sense, because Atsumu was the one who was always talking about girls. Atsumu was the one constantly flirting with waitresses, cashiers, random fans, anyone with a pulse, really. Atsumu was the one who had no problem bringing girls back to their dorm.
And wasn’t that the real reason why Hinata never let himself think too much about his feelings?
Because Atsumu obviously liked girls. Atsumu flirted with girls. Slept with girls. Talked about them in that cocky, smug way that drove Hinata crazy for all the wrong reasons.
So yeah. That’s why he had to move on. That’s why this date was a good idea. A plan to move on from his dumb, stupid crush on his dumb, stupid setter who didn’t like him back.
Hinata took a deep breath, shaking off the way his chest ached just thinking about it. Tonight, he was going to have a good time. And he was definitely, absolutely, 100% not going to think about Miya Atsumu.
The cool night air brushed against his skin as he marched toward the restaurant, his sneakers slapping against the pavement like a man on a mission. The city buzzed around him—the hum of passing cars, the distant chatter of pedestrians, the neon lights flickering in the windows of late-night cafés.
He tried to focus on all of that. The crisp air. The steady rhythm of his steps. The fact that he was doing something normal for once—
So why did the hairs on the back of his neck keep standing up?!
Frowning, Hinata glanced over his shoulder.
Nothing. Just the regular sights of the city—some salarymen hurrying home, a couple walking hand in hand, a guy in a hoodie standing suspiciously still under a streetlamp.
…Wait.
He squinted. The guy immediately turned, pressing himself flat against the nearest vending machine like some kind of degenerate vending machine pervert.
O-kay. Not his problem.
Shoving the weirdness aside, Hinata focused on his date.
By the time he reached the restaurant, he spotted the guy immediately through the large glass windows. Yuuto—tall, broad-shouldered, and annoyingly handsome—grinned at him from inside, giving a small wave.
Hinata, slightly flustered, waved back.
“Oh, thank God, he’s real,” Hinata blurted out before he could stop himself. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door, the little bell jingling overhead.
Another jingle immediately followed but Hinata didn’t think much of it. Probably just another customer.
He walked over to Yuuto, who greeted him with a smile straight out of a romance drama. “Shoyo, right? It’s great to meet you.”
Hinata plopped into his seat and grinned. “Yeah! You too!”
Yuuto chuckled, resting his chin on his palm. “I gotta say, you’re even prettier in person.”
Hinata blinked. Was—Was this normal?! Was he supposed to just hear things like that without combusting??
“U—Uh,” Hinata stammered, face already heating up. “I—uh—thanks—?”
Yuuto chuckled. “Cute,” he murmured, studying Hinata like he was personally trying to set him on fire.
Okay. Okay. This was a lot. Hinata was not prepared for this.
Before he could even attempt to function like a normal person, there was a loud, obnoxious cough from somewhere in the restaurant.
Hinata startled, glancing around. His eyes landed on a very suspicious-looking man in the corner, hiding behind a menu that was definitely upside down.
Hinata squinted. The menu twitched.
…Weird.
But then his date spoke again, successfully stealing back all of Hinata’s attention. “So,” Yuuto started, leaning in a little, “tell me about yourself.”
Hinata blinked, shaking off the weirdness. Right. Date. Focus. He started talking about volleyball, about Brazil, about the time Bokuto almost got banned from a convenience store for trying to high-five the cashier. His date was surprisingly easy to talk to, and before he knew it, they were both laughing, their conversation flowing effortlessly.
Hinata beamed. This guy was great. He wasn’t calling him stupid for dating, he wasn’t passive-aggressively stabbing his rice, and he was definitely not Atsumu.
So far, so good. And then their food came.
Only… it wasn’t what they ordered.
Yuuto tilted his head at his own food. “This… isn’t what we ordered, right?”
Hinata winced. “Uh. No.”
Honestly? He braced himself for annoyance. This was the first inconvenience of the night. Maybe this was the moment where his date got pissed, where he snapped at the waiter, where everything turned awkward and uncomfortable—
“Oh well,” Yuuto said easily.
“…Wait. You’re not mad?”
Yuuto chuckled. “Why would I be? The food still looks good.” He grabbed his fork. “Besides, I get to have dinner with you. That’s what matters, right?”
Hinata’s jaw dropped. No complaints? No ‘I specifically asked for the steak’ drama? No rage against the system? Was this what dating a stable human being was like?!
Hinata had barely finished processing his shock when Yuuto casually placed his hand on top of his.
Hinata malfunctioned for the second time in five minutes. Was this normal?! Was he supposed to just go with it?! Was he allowed to hold hands before dessert?!?!
“You’re really easy to talk to, Shoyo,” Yuuto said, smiling warmly.
Hinata turned even redder. “Ahaha—”
Another cough. Except this time, it was less of a cough and more of an aggressive choking noise.
Hinata flinched, looking over. Suspicious Menu Guy was convulsing. Dying. Literally hacking up a lung.
Yuuto looked over, concerned. “Uh. Is that guy okay?”
Hinata had no idea.
Before he could react, a waiter tripped, sending an entire mug of coffee flying through the air, straight onto Yuuto’s white shirt.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” the waiter blurted, looking mortified. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay,” his date cut in quickly, shaking his hands out, coffee dripping from his now ruined white shirt. “It’s fine. Really.”
Hinata stared, completely overwhelmed. First the weird coughs, now this—was he cursed?!
As Yuuto wiped his shirt, a different waiter subtly slipped a folded note onto the table. Yuuto read it and stiffened.
Hinata, of course, noticed immediately. “What’s that?”
Yuuto’s face paled. “Nothing.” He crumpled the note in his fist way too fast. Before he could pry, Yuuto cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “Anyway, um—tell me more about volleyball?”
Hinata hesitated. That was suspicious. But Yuuto seemed genuinely interested in him, and the date had been going well so far, so maybe he should just let it go?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Either way, he decided to go to the restroom before interrogating Yuuto properly. “Be right back!” Hinata chirped, hopping off his seat and making his way to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he returned—
And Yuuto was gone. His chair was empty. His napkins were gone. The only thing left on the table was a crumpled note. Hinata grabbed it, heart pounding as he slowly unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the words. And then—
“WHAT THE HELL DOES ‘RUN’ MEAN?!”
Few heads turned.
Hinata immediately apologized with a high-pitched, “Sorry!” before sinking back into his seat, feeling his face burn from embarrassment. What the hell just happened?! Was this some kind of prank? Some scam? An eat-and-run situation? Had Yuuto just ditched him?!
Hinata glanced around the restaurant, half-expecting to see his date sprinting down the street with an unpaid bill trailing behind him. But there was no sign of Yuuto, no frantic footsteps, no angry waiters screaming, “ Stop that man!”
Okay. Okay. No need to panic. He just needed to—
His eyes drifted to the untouched plates of food. His stomach turned.
Oh god. Was this it? Was this the humiliating end to his first ever attempt at moving on? A mysterious disappearance followed by a suspiciously expensive bill that he would have to pay all by himself?!
Hinata shot up, frantically waving over a passing waiter. “Uh—excuse me! Can I, um, get the bill?”
The waiter nodded and returned a moment later, setting the receipt in front of him. Hinata glanced at the number and nearly ascended to the afterlife.
No way. No way. There was absolutely no way he was paying that much for a date that ended in RUN . If he’d at least gotten a goodnight kiss out of it, maybe— maybe —he could’ve justified it.
Before his soul could fully leave his body, the waiter spoke. “Oh, don’t worry, sir. Your bill has already been taken care of.”
Shoyo blinked. “...What?”
“Someone paid for it.”
Shoyo’s brain failed to process for a full five seconds before the question escaped his lips. “Who? Who paid for it? Was it the guy I was with?”
The waiter’s smile didn’t waver. “Sorry, I’m not allowed to say. But it wasn’t him.”
That was suspicious. Really suspicious. But Hinata was too exhausted to investigate further. He slumped in his seat, muttering a weak, “Uh… thanks?” before stumbling out of the restaurant, the crumpled note still clutched in his hand.
He spent the next few hours wandering the streets in a state of deep emotional turmoil.
He tried an arcade, but the claw machines mocked him. He shoved in all his coins and still walked away empty-handed. He got ice cream, but it melted too fast, dripping onto his hands like his dignity had earlier that evening.
He sat on a park bench, watching happy couples stroll by, laughing and holding hands, while his own love life felt like a sitcom gone wrong.
It wasn’t even that he liked Yuuto or anything. They had literally just met. But the guy had been cool and sweet and handsome, and for once, Hinata had actually tried to move on, and this was what he got?
Cursed. He was absolutely cursed.
By the time he got back to the MSBY4 shared apartment, it was late, and his mood was even worse than before.
The moment he stepped inside, Bokuto practically launched himself at him. “HINATA! YOU’RE BACK! HOW’D IT GO?!”
Hinata let out a long, suffering groan before dramatically flopping onto the couch. “It was horrible. I don't even want to talk about it.”
Atsumu, who had been lounging in his usual spot with a smug expression on his face (because of course he was), shot him a quick glance. “I told ya.”
Hinata peeled open one eye to glare at him. “Seriously? That’s what you’re gonna say to me right now?”
Bokuto gasped. “Wait, wait, wait, what happened? Was he mean?! Did he call you short?! Did you fight?!”
“No! He was great!” Hinata cried, flailing his arms. “He was nice! He was hot! He flirted with me! He was perfect! ”
“…So what’s the problem?”
“He ran away!”
Silence.
Bokuto blinked. “Wait. Like. Physically?”
“Yes!!” Hinata wailed, flopping back onto the couch in misery. “I went to the bathroom for like two minutes, and when I came back, he was gone. All that was left was a crumpled-up note that just said RUN .”
Sakusa, who had been sipping his tea, made a noise of faint amusement. “That’s rough.”
“I know!” Hinata groaned. “And on top of that, I think I’m cursed! First there was some weird vending machine pervert, then a guy hacking up a lung at the table, then a waiter threw coffee on my date, and then he just vanished!” He clutched his hair in frustration. “Who does that?!”
Atsumu hummed, a little too casually. “Maybe he realized ya weren’t his type.”
Hinata’s head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?!”
Atsumu barely looked at him, but there was a flicker of something— a glance away, a tightening of his jaw —before his smirk returned.
Before Hinata could fire back, Sakusa muttered, “Just because you went on a date today doesn’t mean you get to say shitty stuff to Hinata.”
Hinata frowned. “Wait, what?”
Atsumu stiffened. “Hah?”
Bokuto, completely oblivious, chimed in, “Yeah! You’ve been out for hours! Did you get more chicks?”
Atsumu made a strangled noise. “Shut up, Bokuto.”
Hinata barely processed any of it. His head was pounding. His soul was aching. This conversation was making his brain hurt. He stood up abruptly, muttering, “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
Atsumu’s smirk returned, eyes glinting. “Swear, man. I told you so. ”
Hinata didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He was too busy deciding who he was more pissed at—the ghost of Yuuto or Atsumu’s insufferable face.
As he stormed off to his room, one thought burned in his mind. He was gonna go on another date.
And this time, he was gonna make sure it actually worked out. And when it did, he was gonna shove his new, amazing, perfect boyfriend RIGHT in Atsumu’s smug, stupid face.
The amazing, perfect boyfriend didn’t come. Not once. Not ever.
And maybe that was the whole point.
Because all of Hinata’s dates ended in such spectacular failure that he briefly considered changing his citizenship and flying far, far away from Japan. Maybe to a small island where dating wasn’t a thing. Maybe somewhere remote where people communicated via interpretive dance, and there were no expectations. No stupid, giggling one-night stands, no Atsumu winking at every girl he passed.
That sounded perfect.
But no, he couldn’t escape that easily. Japan was his home. And, apparently, this absurd, disastrous dating life was his new reality.
The first date was already weird. A cryptic note, a panicked waiter, and the vague but terrifying instruction to run had left him reeling. But did he let that stop him? No.
Because if Atsumu was going to keep dragging his gorgeous girls into their apartment, if he was going to keep strutting around with that infuriating, obnoxious smirk like he owned the place, Hinata had to move on.
That was the only way to keep himself sane. So he tried again.
“I’m going on a date.”
Hinata announced it one week after his failed first attempt, standing in the middle of the MSBY locker room with all the confidence of a man hadn’t yet been humiliated by the universe itself.
His teammates gaped at him.
“What? We’ve been here before!” Atsumu demanded, looking unreasonably scandalized. His face was almost as red as a tomato, whether from anger, frustration, or something else, Hinata couldn’t tell. “Didn’t ya learn?”
Hinata met his gaze with a defiance that only came after a week of very intense self-talk . “I don’t care! That was just bad luck! It’s not like someone is actively sabotaging me!”
Atsumu made a choked sound that was definitely not laughter, more like a blend of disbelief and something vaguely sinister. “Pfft. Yeah. Bad luck.”
Sakusa, barely glancing up from his phone, sighed. “You’re going to get your heart broken at this rate.”
“Shut up, I just want to have a normal date!”
Was it too much to ask? Just one —one—peaceful evening where his date didn’t mysteriously disappear or act like they were in the middle of a supernatural horror movie?
Apparently, yes.
Because this time, his second date looked like he was about five seconds away from performing an exorcism.
It was supposed to be fun! Bowling, burgers, maybe ice cream if things went well. And for the first twenty minutes, they were going well! The air smelled like fried food and waxed lanes, Hinata was laughing, and his date was smiling.
Then, somewhere around the third frame of bowling, his date completely froze.
Hinata, gripping his bowling ball like a lifeline, blinked at him. “Uh…? You okay?”
His date’s entire body was as stiff as a possessed doll. “Who—” He swallowed hard, eyes darting over Hinata’s shoulder. “Who is that?”
Hinata frowned. “Who’s who?”
“The guy in the hoodie.”
Hinata turned around. The air-conditioning hummed above them, a soft white noise. A group of teenagers in neon hoodies were taking selfies in the corner, their laughter bouncing off the alley walls. A middle-aged man was adjusting his stance like he was about to take the single most important shot of his entire existence. But there was no one weird or ominous.
“There’s no one,” he said, turning back.
His date looked haunted. “The guy in the hoodie.”
Okay. Now this was getting weird.
Hinata turned around again, slower this time, scanning every inch of the bowling alley. His date sounded genuinely freaked out. Maybe there was some suspicious weirdo lurking around. Maybe Hinata’s date was actually being stalked and he was about to become collateral damage in someone else’s thriller plot.
But… nothing. Just normal bowling alley chaos.
“…What are you talking about?”
His date let out a short, high-pitched laugh—the kind of laugh someone makes when they’re trying to convince themselves they’re not seeing a literal demon. “I swear I just saw someone staring.”
Hinata raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he was just looking for a lane?”
But after that, things only got progressively weirder.
At the food counter, his date visibly paled and muttered, “He’s here again.”
Hinata turned. Nothing.
At the table, his date kept glancing over his shoulder, gripping his burger like it was a holy weapon.
And then, as they were starting their second round of bowling, his date straight up flinched, leaned in, and whispered, “He’s watching.”
At that point, Hinata almost believed they were actually in a horror movie. But then he caught something out of the corner of his eye. A streak of blond disappearing around the vending machine.
Something in his brain immediately went, Atsumu?
But no. No. Absolutely not. He was not about to start hallucinating his own teammate in bowling alleys. He was here to move on. To date other people. Not to keep seeing Atsumu’s stupid, ridiculously bright hair everywhere he went.
He shook his head and focused back on the game. Or, well, he tried.
Because when he returned from the bathroom, his date was just… gone.
Vanished. Disappeared. Like he had been erased from existence.
An empty chair. An abandoned pair of bowling shoes. A half-eaten burger growing cold under the fluorescent lights.
Hinata stared at it all, utterly mystified. What. The. Hell.
His first thought was that his date had gotten kidnapped by the world’s most patient serial killer. His second thought was that his date had simply escaped whatever he thought he saw and decided that ghost-hunting was not in his life plans.
He texted. No response. He called. Blocked.
Hinata slumped into his seat, dragging a hand down his face.
Was he cursed? Was Japan cursed? Was there some ancient god of dating sitting on a golden throne, swirling a glass of divine wine, watching all this unfold, and pointing at him while cackling?
More importantly, What kind of idiot leaves a perfectly good burger behind?!
After a long, suffering sigh, he took a bite.
The third date went no better.
Okay. Maybe bowling had been a mistake. Maybe he just needed to go classy. Romantic. A place where weird, paranoid things could not possibly happen.
So this time, he picked a high-end rooftop restaurant. String lights. A gorgeous city view. Fancy menus where the prices weren’t even listed, so you just had to accept your fate.
He even made a reservation. His date even confirmed it.
But none of that mattered.
Because his date never showed up.
At first, Hinata thought—okay, maybe he’s just late?
Then came the first waiter.
“Sir, we received a call from your date. He had an emergency.”
Okay. That was fair. Hinata nodded. “Oh, got it! I’ll just wait, then—”
Five minutes later. The waiter returned, looking vaguely unsettled.n “Correction! He, uh… got locked in a bathroom stall.”
“…Oh.”
Another five minutes later.
“Actually, no—he fell into a bathroom stall.”
“…What?”
Another five minutes. Another waiter. This time, he looked genuinely concerned for both their sanity. “Sir, we just got an update. Apparently, he has a twin brother who stole his phone and told him the date was next week.”
Hinata stared. The waiter looked equally baffled.
“I—” Hinata struggled to process the sheer amount of chaos that had just been delivered to him. “How… how did that even—”
“We don’t know, sir. Would you like a complimentary dessert?”
Hinata stared harder. Then, finally, he said, “Yes. Extra chocolate.”
Hinata trudged into the apartment that night, completely dead inside.
Bokuto, sprawled dramatically across the couch, gasped when he saw him. “OH MY GOD, WHO HURT YOU.”
“I’M BEING SABOTAGED!” Hinata wailed, throwing himself into Bokuto’s arms.
Bokuto gasped again, clutching him like a telenovela heroine. “BY WHO?”
“I DON’T KNOW!!”
Sakusa, emerging from the kitchen mid-sip of his tea, arched a brow. “What happened?”
Hinata detached himself from Bokuto just long enough to throw his hands in the air like a man on the verge of insanity. “MY DATE NEVER SHOWED UP!”
Bokuto let out a scandalized gasp. “WHAT?!”
“The restaurant said he got locked in a bathroom stall, THEN he fell INTO the stall, THEN—” Hinata took a deep, shaky breath, as if reliving the horror. “—he had a twin brother who stole his phone and told him the date was NEXT WEEK.”
Sakusa blinked. “That’s… a lot of things.”
“I KNOW.” Hinata’s voice cracked. “I’M GONNA DIE ALONE.”
“No, you’re not!” Bokuto said, rubbing comforting circles into his back. “I mean, sure, all your dates so far have been terrible, but maybe—maybe the world is trying to tell you something.”
Hinata, still dramatically collapsed in Bokuto’s arms, sniffled. “Like what?”
“Like… maybe it’s not your time yet.”
Silence.
That was not what Hinata wanted to hear.
It was even worse because, for a second—just one measly second—his brain had the absolute audacity to think, Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to be dating Atsumu instead.
Hinata immediately shut it down. NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE.
He was dating to forget Atsumu. Not to sit here entertaining stupid thoughts about blond hair and obnoxious grins and someone laughing at him every time he got too competitive over food.
He sat up slowly, looking utterly betrayed. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT MY TIME YET?! I’M TWENTY-FOUR. I’M IN MY PRIME. I’M HOT. I DESERVE LOVE.”
Bokuto winced. “No, no! That’s not what I meant—“
But Hinata was spiraling now, waving his hands wildly. “I JUST WANT A NORMAL, PERFECT BOYFRIEND! ONE DATE! ONE ROMANTIC, BEAUTIFUL DATE WHERE NO ONE RUNS AWAY, NO ONE GETS LOCKED IN A BATHROOM, AND NO ONE—” His voice cracked. “—DISAPPEARS INTO THE VOID.”
Atsumu, who had been suspiciously silent in the corner of the room, finally snorted.
Hinata’s head snapped toward him. “WHAT NOW?!”
Atsumu barely spared him a glance, looking far too amused for someone who was witnessing a man’s love life crumble into dust. “I’m just sayin’, yer actin’ like the world is endin’ ‘cause ya can’t get a guy.”
Hinata stood up so fast Bokuto nearly toppled over. His hands curled into fists of rage. “Oh, I’M sorry! I didn’t realize that YOU, the king of one-night stands, wouldn’t understand what it’s like to actually want a real relationship!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hinata flung an arm toward their shared apartment door. “It means I have to hear you bring home a different girl every week, and it pisses me off!”
The room went silent.
Atsumu’s head jerked up. “What?”
Hinata didn’t back down. “How come YOU get to bring girls home every other night? How come YOU get to flirt with anyone you want? Why YOU get to do whatever the hell you want, but every time I try, it ends in complete disaster?”
Atsumu’s brows furrowed. “The hell is my datin’ life related to your datin’ life?”
Hinata’s entire body locked up. His pulse spiked.
Bokuto and Sakusa simultaneously turned their heads toward him like they were watching the most dramatic soap opera plot twist in history.
Oh, fuck this.
This wasn’t new. This wasn’t sudden. He had been holding this in for way too long. Every stupid date, every hopeless attempt to move on, every ridiculous disaster—it was all because of him.
And now Atsumu was standing there, looking at him like he was the crazy one. Like he didn’t get it. Like he wasn’t the one who’d been making Hinata’s life a living hell just by existing.
Hinata’s vision swam with frustration so blinding it could’ve burned the apartment down.
“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
Silence.
Absolute. Deafening. Silence.
Then—
Bokuto choked on air. “OH. OHHHHHH. HOLY SHIT.”
Sakusa, who had just taken a sip of tea, violently coughed. “What the fuck?”
Atsumu just… blinked. “What?”
Hinata groaned, yanking at his own hair like he wanted to rip it out. “Yeah! Fuck this! I like you! No, maybe I love you even. I don’t fucking know!”
He let out a wild, borderline deranged laugh, like a man who had just accepted his own downfall. “But I don’t care now! I know you’re straight! You bring home girls and more girls, keep doing that! I don’t care!”
His breath was shaky. His chest was heaving. But Atsumu wasn’t saying anything. He was just staring.
Bokuto was still gasping in the background. Sakusa looked like he wanted to die.
Hinata’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt. He swallowed. Blinked. Felt the heat creep up his face as the reality of what he just did crashed down on him like a freight train.
Oh, fuck.
Hinata turned away, hands on his head. “Forget I said anything. I need to—I need to go.”
He stormed off toward his room, heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. But just before he could escape, a hand yanked him back so hard he nearly face-planted into the floor.
Hinata barely caught himself. His breath hitched.
Atsumu’s grip was tight, fingers warm and firm against his wrist.
“Wait.” Atsumu muttered. “I—” His fingers twitched against Hinata’s skin like he was debating whether to hold on tighter or let go. “Shit, Shoyo, just—just listen for a second.”
Hinata ripped his hand away. “Listen to what?! I get it, okay? I already knew this was hopeless! That’s why I tried dating other people! That’s why I—”
Atsumu groaned loudly. dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Shoyo, shut up for, like, one goddamn second.”
Hinata snapped his mouth shut, glaring.
Atsumu took a deep breath. Then, running his fingers through his hair, he muttered, “I sabotaged your dates.”
The air in the room cracked like thunder.
“...What?”
Bokuto gasped dramatically. “OH MY GOD.”
Sakusa exhaled sharply. “This is ridiculous. Keep going.”
Atsumu ignored them. “I sabotaged them, okay?! I was the one who—who got the waiters to mess up your orders, who gave the note, who stalked your bowling date, who—who—” He gestured vaguely, looking genuinely distressed. “—orchestrated everything.”
Hinata’s brain stopped working. “You—” He shook his head rapidly, stepping back. “No. No way.”
Atsumu sabotaged his dates.
Miya Atsumu.
Out of all people.
His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Why?!”
Atsumu let out a dry, humorless laugh, rubbing his face like he couldn’t believe this conversation was happening. “Why do ya think, dumbass?!”
Hinata’s brain refused to connect the dots. “I—I don’t know?! How would I know?”
Atsumu’s jaw ticked. “I thought ya didn’t like me, okay?! I thought I was just—just another teammate to ya! So I—” He swallowed, looking genuinely frustrated. “I tried movin’ on.”
Hinata just stared at him.
Bokuto was clutching his own heart like he was watching the final episode of the most tragic K-drama known to mankind. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “This is just like a tragic romance drama.”
Sakusa’s eye twitched. “This is NOT a tragic romance drama. This is two brain cells trying to find each other and failing.”
Atsumu, ignoring everything, kept going, his voice getting desperate. “I—I knew I couldn’t have ya. I thought—I thought I didn’t stand a chance.” His fists clenched. “But the thought of you with someone else? The thought of ya—ya falling for someone that wasn’t me?”
He let out a sharp, harsh exhale. “It drove me crazy.”
Hinata’s breath caught painfully in his throat.
Atsumu looked at him, golden eyes burning with something Hinata couldn’t—wouldn’t—dare escape from. “I don’t want ya to go on stupid dates to forget ‘bout me, Shoyo. I just wanna be the one ya wanna come home to.”
A beat passed, and then Atsumu’s voice dropped to something softer, more real. “I like ya too, ya idiot.”
Sakusa, who had clearly hit his bullshit limit, stood up immediately. “I am not drunk enough for this,” he announced, and then walked out.
Shoyo, still stuck in absolute, brain-shattering shock, just stared.
Atsumu liked him
Atsumu sabotaged his dates because he liked him.
That was—it was—
“Oi.”
Hinata blinked. Atsumu was right there, golden eyes boring into him, hands still clenched into fists.
“Say somethin’, Shoyo,” Atsumu grumbled. His ears were red.
Hinata’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then—“I—I can’t believe you ruined my dates,” he finally blurted out.
Atsumu’s entire face contorted. “Are ya serious?!”
“Yes! What the hell, Atsumu?! I was really trying to move on!”
But before he could keep yelling, suddenly, Atsumu kissed him.
It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t soft or planned or any of that romance movie crap. It was a frustrated, half-exasperated, “you are so dumb, I cannot believe I like you” kind of kiss.
Atsumu grabbed him by the collar, yanked him forward, and smashed their lips together like it was some kind of punishment for being a moron.
Hinata just froze.
Because holy shit, Atsumu was kissing him.
His brain short-circuited so violently he almost forgot to react. But then—then he realized Atsumu was about to pull away, and instinct took over. He grabbed the front of Atsumu’s hoodie and yanked him back, kissing him harder.
Bokuto SCREAMED. “OH MY GOD, THEY’RE KISSING, THEY’RE ACTUALLY KISSING—”
Atsumu let out a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like Shut up, Bokuto, but he didn’t pull away. He just curled his fingers tighter around Shoyo’s collar, tilting his head just enough to make the kiss soften, make it linger until, eventually, they had to breathe.
Hinata pulled back first, eyes wide, face so hot he could probably cook an egg on it. “I—I—”
Atsumu, looking way too smug for someone who had been on the verge of emotional collapse five minutes ago, raised an eyebrow. “Ya what?”
Hinata gaped at him. “I can’t believe you just did that!”
Atsumu smirked. “So… does this mean I don’t have to sabotage any more dates?“
Hinata smacked him. “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO IN THE FIRST PLACE. AND NO MORE GIRLS ON THE DORM EITHER!”
Atsumu laughed—loud and bright and maybe a little too proud of himself—but before he could start gloating, Hinata grabbed his hoodie again, yanked him down, and kissed him one more time, just to shut him up.
And that was the exact moment Hinata realized his life was probably going to be so much worse from now on.
But, somehow,
Somehow, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.