Chapter Text
People who craved the spotlight were an entirely different species of human.
Or at least that’s what Osamu thought anyway. He couldn’t imagine being constantly watched and judged by eyes he couldn’t see, nor did he see the appeal in actively trying to rally in that kinda attention. Soft gray and dull eyes have always been his signature, and sure, maybe when he was a child he would’ve been able to say that he enjoyed the attention, craved it even. Although that was then, and this is now.
Now, standing six feet tall, seventeen years old, and about five years more tired than he ought to be, Osamu was confident in who he was. Or at least, in who he wasn’t. And he definitely wasn’t the kind of person who needed an audience.
Atsumu, though?
Now, that idiot acted like the spotlight owed him rent money. Not like he could complain too much, though, it at least did him the advantage of flying under the radar without much of an effort on his part. So really, he should be thanking Tsumu for being so superficial.
Not that he’s ever going to, but the thought was there.
Inarizaki High was a relatively quiet school. Of course, there was the occasional drama and gossip that came with squeezing a few hundred teens into a three-story tall building, but nothing extreme ever happened. The most buzz you’d get is when a club or sports team managed to make it big at nationals, interhighs, or some other fancy competition that Osamu couldn’t be bothered to look up. It’s probably why Atsumu had such a large fan club, and yeah, apparently Osamu had a few supporters of his own- but it’s not like he ever went out of his way to encourage that type of behavior. The only people he ever really interacted with were a few teachers, his parents, his twin, and members of his team.
Notably, one Suna Rintarou.
If Osamu was the twin who couldn’t care less for attention, and Atsumu was the one who craved it, Suna sat somewhere in between.
Although Suna never went out of his way to draw attention to himself, you could still find him taunting rival teams with a smirk here and a dry jab there. Just enough to be a thorn in their side, but not enough that the auditorium would shine upon him a special limelight. Honestly, Osamu couldn’t even fault the eyes that were drawn to Suna, two of them belonged to him after all.
But Osamu would rather jump off a bridge- or worse, give his brother the last caramel pudding than admit it aloud. So, needless to say, Osamu was not about to go confessing his feelings anytime soon like some blushing teenage maiden.
Not now, not ever.
—
The morning had been easy. Quiet. Tsumu was still being annoying the entire walk to class, a twenty-five-minute ordeal of pure torture. Their parents had made them a quick breakfast and gave them each a quick kiss on the head on their way out the door to work. Naturally, they both protested. They always did at any sign of affection, insisting they were too old to be coddled like that. But Atsumu and Osamu didn’t get their stubborn, teasing streaks from just anyone. So, even though they were fast approaching adulthood, they’d learned it was easier to just accept the doting with minimal grumbling. And, if Osamu were being honest, he didn’t really mind it all that much.
The school day also passed without much fanfare. Suna had shown him a funny post on social media during lunch, and he was pretty sure he’d done well on his Japanese Literature exam that afternoon.
If anything, it was a good day.
Walking back from practice, however, quickly soured his mood. While the walk to class in the morning was a comfortable temperature, the afternoon heat and humidity set in quickly. It was late enough in the day that the sun wasn’t directly overhead, but it was low enough in the sky where looking directly ahead would probably blind you. It didn’t help that the humidity of the rainy season brought the temperature up by like ten degrees and made Osamu’s clothes and hair stick to his body like glue. Even the breeze felt like it had given up. Overall, it was a miserable experience- a sharp contrast to the morning atmosphere.
The group of tired foxes ducked into a small convenience store to escape the heat for a few minutes, browsing the aisles for snacks and drinks to carry them through the rest of the walk home. Usually, it was just the four of them- Osamu, Atsumu, Suna, and Aran- but recently, Kita and Oomimi had been joining more often. Even though Kita lived on the opposite side of town and Oomimi a little further out, the pressure of upcoming third-year exams meant they were spending more time at Aran’s place for study sessions (Well, it was more of Kita tutoring the other two than a proper study group), which naturally meant more time with the team outside of practice. It made their little group swell to six, but Osamu didn’t mind it. It felt kind of nice.
Osamu broke off from the group as he crouched down, inspecting a bag of chips on the lower shelf. It was a flavor he had seen floating around but hadn’t yet had a chance to try.
“That one tastes pretty good, I recommend it.”
The voice startled him more than it should have, as he glanced up at the man standing next to him; carrying one of the store's shopping baskets filled with what looked to be an array of vegetables and packaged noodles. He looked like an ordinary businessman. Neat combed combed-back hair and a nicely pressed suit. He looked almost out of place in the small, casual convenience store, but Osamu would never admit that aloud to the stranger. After all, it's not as if businessmen couldn’t buy groceries here and his parent taught him better than to blurt out whatever came to his mind. The gray-haired twin glanced down at the bag still in his hand before looking back up at the older man. “I see. I haven’t tried it yet. But, thank you for the suggestion, sir.”
Standing back up with the chips secured in his hand, he quickly bowed to the stranger, more out of habit than actual gratitude, before making his way out of the aisles.
The man simply smiled.
“There you are! Thought we were gonna have to send out a search party for ya!” Tsumu exclaimed as his younger half stepped out into the hellish temperatures outside. Samu simply rolled his eyes, bumping shoulders with him, “Don’t be dramatic.”
Atsumu simply huffed and held out a hand. “Give me.” Osamu glared back at him, clutching the chips close to his chest, smacking his hand away. “What, no way! If you wanted one, you could’ve gotten your own.”
The blonde whined, but Aran managed to rein him back in with an offer of sharing his snack with him. Osamu scoffed and pouted, “You spoil him too much, Aran,” as Atsumu stuck his tongue out at him. Real mature- it’s an actual scientific mystery on how Atsumu Miya was the older twin.
Before Samu could retort, a hand came into view and, and turning slightly to his right, brought the tall, fox-eyed middle blocker into view. “Can I have some?” Osamu simply shrugged, opened the bag, and dropped a few into his hand.
They could hear Atsumu sputter with indignation in the background. He turned and stuck his tongue out at his twin as Suna munched on his chips, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Kita huffed, his eyes soft and stern as he rallied the small group back into their walk. Aran was consoling Tsumu as Oomimi and Kita discussed future exam topics and career paths for after High School. After all, in just a few months, the third years would be leaving, and the second years will be the new ‘role models.’ Osamu was an equal part sad, excited, and nervous. He looked up at Sunarin, who had made himself comfortable walking beside Osamu, probably to steal a few more chips off him again, and sighed. The taller teen looked over with a raised brow, “What’s up with you?”
Osamu shook his head, ”Nah, it’s nothing. Just hot as hell.” Sun looked ahead at the sun and lazily stretched, “You can say that again.”
—
The next day brought similar waves of morning dew, clinging to the grass and weighing the air with a sticky kind of stillness. The weather report Osamu glanced at on his way out warned of another humid afternoon, just like yesterday. He could already feel the dampness seeping into his clothes, clinging to his back with a resigned sigh.
As he stepped off the porch, something made him pause. Maybe it was the way the usual quiet of the morning felt a little too quiet, or how the cicadas seemed to hold their breath for just a second too long. But Atsumu was still babbling mindlessly on his left, and the familiar routine of following the same route to school every day quickly settled his suspicions. Osamu shook his head and blamed the extra caffeine he had had last night for his frazzled nerves. And if he felt eyes on him to entire way, glancing over his shoulder once or twice with a confused furrow in his brow- it wasn’t noticeable enough to mention.
Arriving at school did much to calm his nerves. And the monotony of sitting in class and watching the hours tick by basically erased any memory of anxiety he had from his morning. School passed by in a blur, and by practice, he was feeling pretty good, getting a better set in than Atsumu, which had the teen pouting and complaining the entire rest of practice. Not like Osamu cared, but since Atsumu cared, he jabbed a comment about being better in his direction anyways, just to piss him off.
“Shouldn’tve complained so much during practice. Maybe I’ll be taking yer place as starting setter.” Osamu smirked from behind his school logoed water bottle. They both knew he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop Atsumu from yelling how he had gotten lucky and that Osmau wasn’t worth his money anyway. They also knew that wasn’t true, too.
As practice came to an end, the team's freshmen stayed behind to close and clean up as the rest of them hurried to change out of their sweaty uniforms and head home before it got too late. There was a match against Itachiyama coming up in two weeks', and the coaches had had them stay just an extra hour to work on drills, which meant that although the sun wasn’t nearly as blazing as it was an hour ago, the trade-off was getting home later than Osamu would have liked to cook dinner for his family- a habit he ended up picking up back in middle school.
As he walked closer to his locker with a stretch, a small slip of white paper caught his eye. It was innocuous, tucked safely between the door and the locker itself, and small enough to be the size of a Post-it note. That most definitely wasn’t there at the start of practice.
Osamu looked at it quizically, and plucked it from his locker, pinching it open.
It’s been hot recently. Make sure to stay hydrated. :)
There was no name, no other message, or even a clue that this note was even meant for him.
Suna peered over his shoulder, his body casting a shadow over the note. “What’s that?”
Osamu blinked down and shrugged. “Don’t know. Just found it. Doesn’t have a name or anything else written on it.” He crumbled it up and tucked it away into his bag, quickly. “It’s probably just some fan girl or something.”
Suna whistled with a teasing smile and nudged his shoulder with his own, “Wow, Mr. Popular over here, huh?” Osamu rolled his eyes and nudged him back. “Shut up, dude. ‘S nothing anyway.”
Suna only laughed.
Osamu could only force out a laugh of his own. Because even as he chuckled along, some part of him- quiet and cold and deeply instinctual-feel like this was the start of something else.
How did the note get there?
When did it get there?
Who was it from?
Was it even for him?
If he had paused then and asked himself any of those questions, maybe then he wouldn’t have dismissed it so quickly. Maybe then he would have realized that the locker room was locked during practice. That no other clubs are going on that day. That they knew which locker was his. Maybe then it would’ve saved him the heartache.
—
By the next morning, Osamu had completely forgotten about the note. He had woken up feeling a bit on edge for no particular reason. He reasoned that it was just the heat getting to him, but you could see it in the way his shoulders sat tense or the way he didn’t scarf down his breakfast. His parents questioned him with furrowed brows and worried eyes, but Osamu simply shook them off with the excuse of just being high-strung for the upcoming matches and end-of-year exams- that the heat was starting to get to his head and that the morning walk to school would clear his mind. They backed off, albeit hesitantly. Atsumu simply gave his brother a look, a mix between “Worried” and “Suspicious” that made Osamu roll his eyes in exasperation and pick up his spoon to shove another mouthful of sweet rice porridge into his mouth. His brother only huffed and shoved him hard in the shoulder.
And Osamu liked to believe that if he had been feeling his best, he would’ve been more prepared for it and wouldn’t have gone sprawling off his stool onto the kitchen floor- his brother’s choking laughter echoing in the background.
He wasn’t laughing when Osamu pulled him to the ground- the two wrestling on the floor like they had been for the best 17 years, their parents laughing with a fond smile. And if Atsumu could see the tension leaving Osamu’s shoulders at the familiar scene, then it was purely coincidental.
By the time the two had arrived at school, they were already running behind. Slipping off his outdoor shoes and opening his small cubby, Osamu almost overlooked the little note stuffed between the gap in his locker door. It was barely peaking out and discreet looking that students simply passing by wouldn’t have noticed it unless they were looking straight at it.
This time, Osamu paused and took a look around. Last-minute students were rushing to class, and teachers were beginning to call out tardy notices, but no one stood out in particular to him. Hesitatingly, he plucked it from the locker, reminiscent of the scene from yesterday, and pinched it open. The same size post-it note-sized white paper. The same writing. The same unnamed letter.
You look tired. Make sure to rest properly. :)
The same familiar smiley face.