Chapter Text
The last point. the ball spun as it was spiked down, too fast to even blink.
On instinct, Sakusa flung out his arm and just barely caught the ball.
It flew in an arc through the court, too far to the right. He watched as Atsumu run up to set, and Sakusa braced himself for the run up.
Atsumu's hand rose up, and Sakusa geared into motion. He could see every movement of Atsumu hands, and he knew it was coming this way.
Then, with a bang, Atsumu's arm whipped back and snapped the ball to the ground.
The crowd roared as Atsumu gave the finishing shot to seal their victory.
Sakusa stopped mid lunge.
They won.
Bokuto and Hinata immediatly jumped onto Atsumu, hollering and shouting.
The crowd roared. Sakusa could barely distinguish one voice voice from another.
But the reaction wasn't for nothing. With this, them had came out on top as the winners of the April club season.
Sakusa joined in for the group cheer, though making sure that no physical contact happened where he was involved.
Eventually, they had to get off the court and pack up. "Omi-Omi, nice decoy on the last ralley. Hinata rubbin' off on ya?" Atsumu walked up beside him, smirking.
"Shut up," he grumbled. The high of victory was just enough to tamp down on his irritation that Atsumu got the last shot. "And don't touch me."
Atsumu patted him on the back anyways.
"A little compliment won't hurt ya once, and you know that was a good play."
"Really. your ego is blocking the view." Sakusa picked up his sanitizer spray.
"Couldn't possibly be." Atsumu turned as Bokuto bounced up beside them, Hinata quick to follow.
"That was a fantastic play! We gotta celebrate this!"
"With a team feast!" Hinata chimed in.
Sakuka tensed at the word feast.
Eating was always something that he could control - until it wasn't. Sakusa was never ashamed of his germaphobia. It was just something that he had - perhaps an inconvenience, but he had learned to work around it. With time, the team had also grown accustomed to his habits. But he never told anyone about his difficultly with eating.
Unlike his germaphobia, if their coach and nutritionist found out, they would no doubt intervene and subject him through multiple exposure and therapy sessions to pry him open and shove food down his throat. And Sakusa refused - last time only made it worse.
So he avoided eating with the team - using his germaphobia as an excuse.
"I called already and booked the restaurant." Meian walked up. "And I asked them to thoroughly sanitize the place, so you can rest assured that it's clean, Sakusa."
"I-"
"Don't worry, you can sanitize the place again if you want." Meian smiled.
"Yeah yeah you gotta come with us! You have so many sick plays!"
"Its a team dinner!"
Atsumu grinned too. "Don't pussy out on this."
Sakusa stared at him. He just might, to spite him.
It wasn't like large team feats hadn't happened before; in fact, he was often invited after a match well played. But winning first place in a season wasn't just any match - especially not when it was the season right before the Olympics, so this wasn't just any team celebration either. Even through his lack of social tact, Sakusa could tell that a rejection now was unfeasible without dimming team morale.
Atsumu's gaze never wavered from his face.
"...Wasn't going to."
Sakusa sat on the chair between Atsumu and Barnes. After arriving, he proceeded to wipe down his chair and his section in the round table.
Meanwhile, the team began to pick dishes. Judging by the strings and strings of word being rattled to the server, they were hungry, which meant that the table will soon be stock full of food.
Sakusa quickly picked the first thing he read on the menu and closed his menu. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm the queasiness in his stomach. He just needed to hold it until he got home.
When he opened his eyes, he realized that Atsumu was watching him.
Sakusa knew that Atsumu was perceptive, but he also knew that he was never one sit back and watch.
Sakusa raised an eyebrow at him. "You need help, Miya?"
Instead of taunting back or reacting like usual, Atsumu only frowned in return. "No."
With that, Atsumu turned back and began chatting with the team again, although Sakusa could sense him glancing over once in a while. In return, Sakusa sent him sour eyed glances back.
On his left, Barnes leaned over and said, "Sakusa, don't be mad that Atsumu got the last ball. You know that you share just as much of that victory as he does."
Ah. Barnes had noticed his glares. "I'm not mad about that."
Barnes chuckled. "Sure you're not. I'm sure you'll get the final shot next time, yeah?"
There was no persuading a person who thought they understood already. Sakusa sighed. "It really isn't that important."
The thing causing him the most stress was probably the hot smell of food that filled the room as several servers entered the room to place out the dishes.
His teammates, especially Bokuto and Hinata, metaphorically glowed the moment they laid eyes on the steaming food.
"Idakimasu!"
Sakusa reluctantly began picking out food for his own plate. He took a small bite - and wanted to spit it out immediately.
He watched as everyone ate, hungrily scarfing down the food.
Sakusa tasted vomit in his throat.
Just swallow it.
Sakusa took one breath, then shoved everything on his plate into his mouth. The meat was heavy on his tongue, and the vegetables slick and slimy. Rice fell apart in his mouth and threatened to choke his windpipe. He couldn't breath. The food scratched painfully at his throat as his forced it down, the scalding burn of heat helping to distract him from the texture of the food.
The minute the food was gone, Sakusa quickly set the plate down and reached for the water. He disliked using public utensils, but at this moment, all be dammed.
"Wow, Sakusa, I know you're hungry, but i never imagined you'd be a fast eater.," Inunaki remarked. "If anything, you and Atsumu should be flipped."
Sakusa looked at Atsumu. Sure enough, Atsumu was eating at a normal pace - which, for Atsumu, meant that he was eating uncharacteristically slow.
"Huh," Sakusa said. He tried to say more, but his throat had just been deep fried and scratched to disuse.
Atsumu glanced over again. This time, Sakusa was the one to avert his eyes.
Atsumu looked at Inunaki. "We're goin' ta the Olympics, so of course I gotta make sure I'm in the best shape. N' that involves proper digestion."
Inunaki laughed. "Somehow that is the most Atsumu-sounding reason I can think of."
Ariah chimed in, "if only you could keep that up for the entire year," and was met with a sound of protest and a couple laughs.
Sakusa, "only thing Miya can keep up for an entire year is his cocky attitude," and promptly shut his mouth when his throat closed up again.
Atsumu swivelled around, "listen here, Omi-Omi -"
"Alright, alright, thats enough at the dinner table, you guys," Meian interrupted. "We're here to celebrate, so have your little arguments later."
Atsumu turned around to plead innocence, and Sakusa leaned back on his seat with nothing more to add.
Unfortunately, that meant more eating. And with the entire team around Sakusa, he shoved food down frequently so as not to raise any suspicions.
After an hour, when the dishes on the table turned into the size of leftovers, the alcohol was brought out. The team showed no signs of ending the celebration yet, but Sakusa's body was about to pass out from holding in the food for too long.
His body was physically reacting, violently, from the food. With a quick mumbled excuse of needing to pee, he stumbled out of the private dinning room and went into the nearest bathroom stall he found.
Sakusa barely had time to lock the stall before he was retching up all the bile. He could only keep his mouth hanging open helplessly, as his stomach convulsed and heaved up the food in waves. Acid burned his throat and Sakusa could smell his stomach lining as he vomited up the food.
His core slowed from its convulsions, but he still didn't get everything out. Sakusa thought of all the bacteria currently crawling around his hand, before he shoved it deep into his throat to claw out the remains. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but still he forced himself to gag again, and again, and again, until he finally stopped out of exhaustion.
Sakusa slumped over the seat of the toilet, the occasional retch still racking his body, although no more solid came out with it.
Sakusa stared emptily at the toilet water.
At least the food was gone.
But he was dirty, on his hands and knees, and even the inside of his mouth crawled with outside bacteria and viruses. And with the need to push out his guts gone, Sakusa grew ever more aware of the mess and the germs.
He was in a public bathroom, and when he rushed into the stall, Sakusa had used his hands to steady himself by clutching the toilet seat, then, shoved them into his mouth in a moment of desperation.
Suddenly he was watching himself vomit into the toilet once again in, his head going numb. This time, with all the food gone, what came out was whatever liquid and acid remained.
Sakusa watched himself kneeling further into the toilet, and wanted to peel his skin away and wash his insides out.
A voice broke through the ringing of his ears.
"....Oi, Omi-Omi, ya there? Ya've been pissin' for a long tim-"
Sakusa dimly recognized that voice as Atsumu's. He saw himself stop clawing at his throat.
"Fuck, the hell is that smell?" Atsumu's voice rang louder, his footsteps getting closer. "Theres only one person, excluding me, in this bathroom, so no use trying to stay quiet. I know it's you, Omi."
He should reply.
"We didn't even open the beer, so what the hell are ya vomitin' out?"
Sakusa needed to stop spectating.
A long pause. "Sakusa. Ya need to answer me, or I'm kickin this door down."
"In 3, 2,"
A twinge of irritation at Atsumu's impatience finally dragged Sakusa back to coherence.
"Don't" He managed to gurgle out hoarsely.
"Shit, Omi, I was this close to bustin' open the door." Atsumu breathed. He sounded relieved. "Can ya open the door for me?"
"No," Sakusa didn't want Atsumu to witness him like... this.
A faint creak of a body leaning beside the sink. "...Fine, then I'll just stay out here till ya come out."
"Ju-" Sakusa cleared his throat and tried again. "Just, leave me alone."
A huff. "I ain't leavin' this shit-show of a mess and walking back n' pretendin' like everythin' is fine. And I don't think ya wan't me to tell the rest of the team, either."
Sakusa closed his eyes. Atsumu was impossible to shake off. From the cocky remarks when they first met at the youth training camp, to the nicknames and mutual rivalry ever since they both joined MSBY, Atsumu had always stuck his nose into Sakusa's life.
"Then suite yourself." He was too spent to argue.
The toilet was green and full of partially digested bits of food. Some bits of yellow vomit stuck on the edges of the toilet seat. And his hands were slicked with it.
Sakusa tore off a roll of toilet paper and shakily wiped down the stall, then his clothes. There was no point in wiping his skin; no alcohol to kill the germs meant that he was covered in perpetuating bacteria. And his mouth. Even dunking himself in alcohol wouldn't make the inside of his mouth clean again.
His movements were slow and sluggish, and an obscure amount of time passed in silence, with Sakusa trying his best to remove all traces of his fiasco off of the bathroom walls and his clothes.
Then footsteps, and Atsumu's voice rang again. "I found some sanitizer and wipes for ya." Atsumu closed the door behind him. "Thought ya might be needin' some cause ya didn't bring any withcha' when ya left."
Sakusa felt Atsumu walk closer, then stop. "I'll just slide em under the stall," he said.
Sakusa stared at the bottle of sanitizer and packet of wipes.
He didn't need Atsumu's help.
And he couldn't understand why Atsumu would willingly endure staying in a bathroom full of the putrid smell of vomit. Atsumu was hardly the caring kind, and Sakusa himself wasn't exactly a likeable person. He can't think of any scenario in which Atsumu would go out of his way to comfort somebody, especially him.
So accepting Atsumu's help almost feels unnatural.
But eventually, the itch to clean himself won, and Sakusa picked up the bottle and began spritzing himself down.
The familiar scent of sanitizer dampened the other smells in the bathroom. It was grounding.
Sakusa wiped down every patch of bare skin he could. Although still uncomfortable, the wipes will suffice until he got home.
And, he hesitated, but - Sakusa raised the bottle and squirted the hand sanitizer into his mouth. Almost immediately the sharp kick make him sputter out whatever he could.
Sakusa fought back a gag. The sharp, bitter aroma stayed in the back of his throat. That should've killed some of the germs in his mouth. It was unpleasant, but it made Sakusa feel less dirty on the inside.
Sakusa made sure there were no traces of vomit left in the bathroom or on his clothes, then stood up. His legs wavered and he gripped the toilet paper stand to steady himself.
Sakusa wasn't sure how to face Atsumu right now.
But Atsumu was also out of character. He hadn't spoken once since handing him the wipes.
Sakusa steadied himself again, then unlocked the door and walked out.
Atsumu was leaning by the counter, crossed armed. He looked up the minute the door was opened, and Sakusa paused, meeting Atsumu's eyes.
"Jesus, Omi, ya look like shit." Atsumu said, but without his usual smirk.
Sakusa could either come up with an excuse that he had an allergic reaction to one of the dishes, or just say that he felt sick. Neither was a lie that he wanted to elaborate on.
So he opted for a huff in reply. Sakusa moved to the sink and began washing his hands. He racked his brain for explanations, even half lies, anything except the truth. Because they always -
"Ya never ate a meal with us before," Atsumu stated.
Sakusa stilled.
"Germs fly when people chew, and I don't enjoy being squished between people."
"Germs fly when people exercise too, and ya always coulda sat on a separate chair." Atsumu turned to watch him. "Omi-Omi. I don't think yer tellin' me the truth."
Sakusa turned off the tap. "I can assure you that I do not enjoy eating with a large group of people." He ripped off a piece of paper towel. "And I don't owe you any truths either."
"You ca -" Atsumu cut himself off, then sighed in frustration. "So, that," he gestured to the stall, "was a one time thing?"
Sakusa finally met Atsumu's eyes again. "Yes." He didn't want to have this discussion, especially not with Atsumu.
Sakusa began walking out.
Atsumu put his body between the exit and the door.
Sakusa glared, "Miya."
Atsumu stared back.
"Y'know, I always wondered why ya didn't ever eat with the team. It coulda been cause o yer 'viruses travel in the air' excuse, but then yer ain't afraid of mingling with the team in volleyball."
If Atsumu had even the slightest suspicion before, then seeing Sakusa in the bathroom would've almost confirmed it.
Sakusa felt a weight drop in his chest.
"Omi, do ya have a hard time eatin?"
There it was. Atsumu was sharply observant, both on and off the court. Annoyingly so, at a time like this. One of the skills that came with being a setter, he supposes.
Flat out denying the question would only fuel Atsumu's suspicions. He had made up lists of excuses in the past, but non of them seemed believable when he imagined saying it aloud. Plus, he didn't have enough mental energy right now to brainstorm new, optimal ways to deflect the question.
Atsumu had him cornered.
He bit back a sigh. "What are you going to do if I am?" Sakusa really disliked having this conversation.
Atsumu's eyebrows furrowed a bit, the corners of his lips tight. "Uh... I ain't an expert on this, but I know that this ain't healthy."
Wow, Sakusa didn't realize. But again, Atsumu rarely showed genuine uncertainty. The lack of substance in his response only proves that he didn't know what to do.
It was hard for anyone who ate regularly to understand, and most don't. But the ones that couldn't empathize were also the people most adamant on 'helping him' cure his issues because each believed to know what was best for him.
Atsumu straightened. "I'll ask our nutritionist if-"
Not this. Not Atsumu too.
"Don't," Sakusa closed him eyes. "Miya, please." His voice was raw.
Miya's voice rose. "Well I ain't doing nothin', Omi, cause I don't want'cha collapsin' in the middle of a game just cause ya haven't eaten anything."
"I won't." Sakusa gritted his teeth. "I still get the nutrients I need by drinking."
"Ya can't only drink, Omi. I ain't a science student but I know that it ain't be good for yer stomach."
If it was that easy to stop, Sakusa would've a long time ago. Atsumu knew nothing. The putrid smell of the bathroom was becoming suffocating, and Sakusa needed to leave. "Fine, you want to help?" He snapped, "then keep your mouth shut and let me get out of here."
Atsumu's mouth opened, then closed. An image of a goldfish popped in Sakusa's head. Suddenly, the whole encounter seemed comedic, and Sakusa had the urge to laugh about the situation they were in.
Sakusa aimed for the door again, and this time, Atsumu wordlessly moved aside.
Sakusa turned left, hesitated about going back to join the team, then decided that it wasn't worth the potential triggers. Besides, he wasn't too keen on explaining his whereabouts or speaking, for that matter.
He headed out of the restaurant. He would explain next time.
The crisp night air was a welcome contrast to the suffocating bathroom. Sakusa sucked in a lung full of air, and held it, letting it sweep away the stench still stuck in his windpipe.
He exhaled.
A cold breeze swept through his shirt, and he shivered. Sakusa's heart rate finally slowed. It was calming.
He looked out on the street. The sky had already turned dark, the street lights illuminating the curb in yellow.
Perhaps he was too harsh in brushing off Atsumu. He just wanted to help because he was concerned that it could affect Sakusa's performance on the court.
He thought back on Atsumu's weird expression. There was a possibility that Atsumu's reason for caring went beyond what he could offer on the court. Sakusa didn't want to think about the implications of it. That was an Atsumu-shaped box of thoughts that Sakusa wasn't too keen on opening.
It would be better if they both cared less.
"Omi-Omi, wait a sec," Atsumu's breathless voice burst through the blanket of quiet around Sakusa. Atsumu came running out of the restraunt. "I just remembered that we came here in carpools, andja' don't have a ride."
Sakusa pulled out his phone. "I was about to call a taxi."
"My car is here. I could drive ya home if ya want." Right. They did carpool here in Atsumu's car. At Sakusa's silence, Atsumu shoved his hands in his pockets. "Or not. If ya prefer the taxi I understand."
On one hand, Sakusa did prefer the impersonal quiet of the taxi. It would give him time to collect his thoughts. On the other hand... actually, there wasn't any good reason to take Atsumu up on his offer. The ride would be awkward, to say the least.
"You don't have to go out of your way. The drive from my place to here is pretty far."
"I wasn't planning on comin' back. Don't feel like it." Atsumu glanced at him.
Sakusa felt a twinge of guilt for likely being the cause of that. "What about the others?"
"They can squish up in Meian and Barnes' car."
Since Atsumu wasn't planning on coming back, it would be more efficient to ride his car. They didn't live too far from each other, so his place would be right on route. There was no point in purposefully avoiding him.
"...Okay."
"Kay' what?"
"Okay, I'll take you up on your offer, Miya." Sakusa enunciated.
"Oh." Atsumu looked like he didn't except Sakusa to say yes. "D'yeah, let's go."
Sakusa walked behind Atsumu to the parking lot.
Neither of them spoke.
Atsumu's car beeped as they got close, and Atsumu got in the drivers seat. Sakusa opened the right door, and slid in beside him.
Atsumu checked the mirror, paused, then pulled out of the parking lot.
The silence weaved into a physical presence between them, the tension a glass wall in which both could easily see the other, but neither could know what the other was thinking.
Sakusa decided to break it the same time that Atsumu did.
"Miya-"
"Omi-"
A pause. "You go first," Atsumu said.
Sakusa would rather go second. He watched as the buildings zoomed behind them, the lights insignificant compared to the glow of the moon.
This was really hard to say. Sakusa forcibly dragged the words out of his mouth. "...Sorry. For ruining your celebration."
Atsumu swiped his head to look at him. "Ya didn't ruin shit." Atsumu turned his head back to stare at the road. "And don't apologize. It's weird when ya do it."
Sakusa snorted. "Screw off, Miya."
"Screw yerself, Omi-Omi."
For a moment, it felt like some semblance of normalcy had been restored. The tension between them was no longer suffocating. Sakusa watched the city drift by and closed his eyes.
Between the volleyball finals, the travelling, and throwing his guts back up, Sakusa was utterly spent. When he gets back, he would have more cleaning to do, starting with a scalding shower to rid his skin of the germs still crawling on his skin.
Sakusa wished he didn't feel the urge to clean himself. It was tiring, especially at times like these. Without his germaphobia, his eating would never have been an issue. Or maybe, if he had just accepted his germaphobia as an unavoidable part of himself earlier in high school, then he never would have needed to resort to not eating as a means to gain back control over his body.
Well, the damage had already been done. Sakusa was beyond the point of regret anyway.
He could live with it. But no matter what, Sakusa refused to go back to rehab again.
Sakusa slowly blinked open his eyes to see the entrance of his apartment.
It was even darker now then when he passed out in the car. He turned to the drivers seat, to see Atsumu texting on his phone.
Sensing movement, Atsumu looked up. "Mornin', Omi-Omi."
"How long was I out for?" Sakusa's voice came out scratchy and croaky. He cleared his throat.
"Not too long." Atsumu shrugged. "It's 10:19 pm, if ya need the time."
They got in the car at 8:56. The drive should've taken about an hour, which meant that Atsumu has been waiting here for an hour and twenty three minutes, exactly.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
Atsumu looked at him, then glanced away. "Ya looked tired."
Sakusa didn't know what to respond to that. He reached for the door. "Thanks for the drive, Miya."
A hand lightly halted his movement. "Wait, Omi-Omi, you talked first, but I wanted to say something too."
If it was anyone else, Sakusa might have yanked his arm away. Unfortunately, he was used to Atsumu invading his space. If it was him who allowed it nevertheless, that was a minor detail he gladly ignored.
"Oh. Go ahead."
Atsumu chewed on his cheek. Then inhaled, loudly. Perhaps to collect his thoughts.
"I just wanted to say that -" Atsumu's gaze was fixed to the front window. "Well, I was thinkin', and I think that yer probably sick of people who believe they know better than ya trying to fix ya with their methods."
Sakusa's grip tightened on the car door. "...Right."
"And I just wantcha' to know that I won't do anything ya don't want me ta."
Was there any point in bringing up this topic again? Sakusa needed to go take a shower.
As if sensing his impatience, Atsumu quickly hurried on. "What I'm tryin' ta say, Omi, is that yer secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone without yer permission."
Although Atsumu was bold and risk taker, he wasn't rash. Sakusa knew that Atsumu wouldn't rat him out to the team. But he was still a little surprised at Atsumu's words.
"Th-"
"And don't get me wrong, I don't like sittin' back and leavin' ya be. But I'll only help where ya let me to. So if ya don't want me stickin' my nose in yer business, tell me ta fuck off again and I will." Atsumu let out an exhale.
"Thats all I wanted ta say." Then, as if just realizing his hand was still gripping Sakusa's arm, Atsumu pulled his hand back and place it on the wheel.
A beat passed in silence, where neither of them moved.
"Ya don't have to reply right now, it aint -"
"Thank you," Sakusa said quietly. Sakusa met Atsumu's wide eyes. There was more he wanted to say, but lacked the words to convey his thoughts.
Sakusa looked down and opened the door. A gust of cold air hit his face as he stepped out from the warn envelope of Atsumu's car, the chill from outside sinking into his bones.
He paused. Atsumu was still watching him. "Just so you know, I hate when people try to shove their prescriptions in my face, and I don't need you to start treating me differently just because I can't eat."
The next part was more like an admission to self.
"But I don't want you to fuck off, Miya."
After a long shower that left Sakusa's skin red and cleaning every crevice he could reach in his mouth, Sakusa finally collapsed into his bed.
From the corner of his eye, a notification lit up.
Miya Atsumu [11:11 pm]
btw when u were asleep I told everyone that u weren't feelin well cause u had an allergic reaction to one of the dishes
cause they were askin abt our whereabouts
so maybe start thinkin of realistic things u could be allergic to.
Sakusa Kiyomii [11:11]
ok
Seen by Atsumu
Sakusa put his phone down. His eyelids threatened to shut every moment.
He sighed. Giving in to the pull, he closed his eyes.
Sakusa dreamt of nothing.
Miya Atsumu [11:37]
what abt beans??