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Spring National Tournament, 2013, Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium
A blur of golden hair, and a pair of honey brown eyes glaring at him from across the net.
The harsh lights of the gymnasium were making Shouyou rather dizzy, and his ears were faintly ringing. The voices of the commentators were blaring deafeningly loud on the speakers as they kept yelling about – well. Something. He wasn't particularly listening. Kageyama was talking to him in a low voice, but Shouyou wasn't listening to him either.
Two identical faces were staring at him through the criss-crossing volleyball net. One of them turned away, but the other one (looking rather pissed-off) stood there as he raised his arm to point a finger at him. One of the Miya twins, though he couldn't figure out which one.
Atsumu? Osamu? He squinted, trying to focus his hazy vision so he could get a better look.
Sometimes, there's this moment on the court, when Shouyou is so laser-focused on the path of the ball that everything else in the background becomes fuzzy static. Empty, meaningless noise that he tunes out in favor of making his next step, next jump, next spike. His world becomes sluggish, like everything is moving through water; Him, the ball, and the net become the only things that remain in crystal clear focus. What happened next was something - no, exactly like that.
For the first time since this match had started, his mind went blissfully quiet.
"One day, I'm gonna set for you."
He would marvel at those words later, that declaration. He would think about how Atsumu was the first person to willingly choose Shouyou, when no one else - not even Kageyama - had. He'd think about a lot of things. But in that moment, the only thing running through his mind was-
Ah , he thought. How beautiful .
The most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life.
Bleached hair plastered to his forehead, shining like molten gold. A pair of upturned almond eyes with the most ferocious expression carved into his handsome face. Beads of sweat were rolling down the smooth column of his neck. Every movement seemed like it was being made in slow motion, and everything around Atsumu suddenly seemed to fall away, like it was all happening at a distance, far removed from them both. The jeering, boisterous voices of the crowd, the loud victory cheers of Nishinoya and the others, even the net that separated them both on either sides of the court. Only Atsumu's eyes - God, his eyes - seemed to remain in Shouyou's sight. He could've almost sworn he saw them flash a brilliant golden - like the sun - for a second.
Distantly, he heard a whistle blow several times in succession.
Ah, shit.
The boy - he was almost certain it was Atsumu now - was still talking. Still angry. Frustrated. It was lovely. He had a passing thought about how that was a weird thing to think about someone you just met.
He wanted to say something to Atsumu. Anything to get him to keep looking at Shouyou like that. But no sound would come out of his mouth. He was left to stare dumbly at Atsumu as he looked away and walked to the rest of his teammates. He didn't even hear the rest of Atsumu's speech.
"Hinata-kun!" Was that Yamaguchi? He slowly turned his head to the side, but his eyes were still following Atsumu's every move.
"Coming.." Shouyou breathed, finally dragging his eyes off Atsumu's lithe body, and jogged over to the rest of Karasuno.
When he looked back, Atsumu was already gone.
***
MSBY Black Jackals Tryouts, 2018, Osaka
There was something poetic to be said about the stark difference between the soft sandy beaches of São Paulo, and the inflexible, hardwood floors of a volleyball court. Shouyou was sure he wasn’t smart enough - or patient enough - to come up with anything nearly as romantic as it seemed in his head.
The weather in Osaka was harsh this time of year. The snow was coming down in a never ending cascade of white; the streets were already covered in a blanket of it. Everything was quieter in the snow, somehow. It always felt like Shouyou’s mind would go silent along with it. Atleast, that's how it felt on normal days. Not today, though. Today was different. Today was significant and all-encompassing and life-altering.
He was already bouncing on his heels, impatiently waiting on the gymnasium floor. Shouyou looked around at the space. Clearly, MSBY spared no expense when it came to training. It was a pretty spacious area, spanning multiple courts. Beautiful, clean maplewood floors that squeaked when you walked on them; volleyballs and exercise equipment littered at every corner. Large windows spanned from the ceiling halfway to the floor - not that anything beyond a solid-white sky laden with snow could be seen out of them. There were many others like him here as well - trained athletes hoping to go pro, other pros from different leagues and teams hoping to move up the ladder.
MSBY was one of the few teams in the V League who held tryouts, and this was a chance he couldn’t afford to pass up. They were one of the best in the country, of course, but that wasn’t the only reason Shouyou was so fixated on them. It wasn’t as if he was expecting this to be a walk in the park, but.. But. There was an undercurrent of nervousness running through his veins, and he knew it had nothing to do with the tryouts.
Shouyou was here, in Osaka, after years of training himself. He’d practically dropped off the map. He..didn’t know if Atsumu even remembered him anymore, but Shouyou remembered Atsumu, clear as day - like he was still standing in front of him, across that net, looking at him with those amber eyes. Shouyou wanted to see him again, even just a tiny glimpse. God, he was going nuts just standing here. There were people other than his competitors milling about all over the gym floor - the coaches and medics and spectators, but the members of the MSBY themselves had yet to make an appearence. Where was Atsumu?
He had just started to make his way to where Coach Foster was standing by the front, when everyone started cheering noisily behind him. Shouyou turned around, and that's when he finally, finally, saw him walking out the double doors of the gymnasium.
Atsumu. He was so much taller now. Lean and muscular. The black color of the Jackals uniform made his already pale skin gleam stark white. His hair was still bleached blond, but it wasn’t such a jarring shade of yellow anymore. It had mellowed out, like soft morning sunlight filtered through sheer curtains. The same almond eyes - slightly red at the corners. Same cocky smile, one side of his mouth more upturned than the other. For a long drawn-out second, Shouyou was standing inside the painted white lines of an entirely different court, from an entirely different time - but Atsumu was always, always the one he was watching.
There was a tremor in Shouyou’s hands that he couldn't quite stop. It felt like his heart was crawling up his throat. He wanted Atsumu to look at him; he wanted Atsumu not to look at him ever. His head was a mess. He had obsessively followed Atsumu’s career since he first met him back in Karasuno. He knew just how good he was. Shouyou was praying to every God that Atsumu’s opinion about him hadn’t changed since that day. He didn’t know what Atsumu would think about his somewhat - well, extremely - unconventional decision to train in beach volleyball halfway across the globe. Would Atsumu understand that? Or would he say it was a mistake to think Shouyou would amount to anything at all? He almost didn’t want to find out. He was going into a downward spiral of anxious thoughts when he heard it.
“Hinata-kun!”
He knew who it was without even looking. A delicate, silky voice. Like warm honey languidly dripping down his back. His whole body whipped towards the sound, like someone had attached a string to his head and yanked. It was kind of embarrassing. He watched as Atsumu broke away from the other members of MSBY, who were all grouped together near the far end of the court, and came jogging up to Shouyou.
There he was. After years of chasing after his shadow, Shouyou was standing right in front of Miya Atsumu.
“Hinata-kun,” Atsumu said again, a little breathless this time. “Bo-kun told me ya were in Osaka for the tryouts. I was hopin’ to run into ya.”
Shouyou’s brain was about to short-circuit. He forced down the giddy feeling in this chest and smiled back at Atsumu best he could. He can not fuck this up.
“Miya-san! It's been a while!” he said, a little too loud, too sharp. Then he raised his hand and gave Atsumu a thumbs-up. “Looking good!”
Nope. Oh my God. What the fuck? Atsumu was going to think he's an idiot. They stared at each other for a second. Atsumu looked.. surprised, almost. Surely, he got that from a lot of people?
He was just about to say something, when a small laugh puffed out from Atsumu’s lips. He was smiling again - eyes crinkled at the corners and face flushed a delicate shade of red, all the way down to his neck. God, he was so pretty. Shouyou knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop.
“Um,” he said dumbly instead.
Atsumu took a step towards him. The overhead lights were blotted out by his figure, making his hair light up in a soft golden halo. Even after three years, Atsumu was still the most beautiful person Shouyou had ever seen. He suspected that would not change no matter how many years passed by.
“Shouyou-kun.” He said, voice softer and honeyed. “Sorry, can I call ya Shouyou-kun?”
“Uh, yeah.” Yes. More. Call my name. I'll do anything you ask of me. “Sure.That’s cool.”
Atsumu smiled wider. His eyes had an almost predatory look to them.
“Then, Shouyou-kun, ” he drawled (in a way that did things to him), “I don't know exactly what ya have been up to this whole time but..you're here now. Ya better make the team. I'll be waitin’.”
A whistle blew twice in sharp succession. Looks like this was finally starting. Shouyou almost didn't want to go.
“Yeah..Yes, of course, Miya-san.” He managed to choke out. “I-”
Before he could say something to embarrass himself further, Coach Foster’s voice rang out loudly from where he was standing on a makeshift podium near the center of the gymnasium.
“Alright! All candidates, would you please line up right here?”
Well.
Shouyou turned back around to look at Atsumu. Maybe he was terrible at smooth-talking, but volleyball…This, this was totally in his wheelhouse.
“Miya-san,” he said. “Wait for me. You..you said you’d set for me one day, remember? Does..that offer still stand?”
Atsumu looked at him then. In a way that hid so many emotions he couldn’t yet understand.
“‘Course it does.” He said lightly, as he turned around to start making his way back to his team. (It would soon be his team too. Their team.) “If you can keep up, that is.”
He stopped, and turned his head around slightly, enough to look at Shouyou again.
“And enough with the whole ‘Miya-san’ thing.” Shouyou could see him rolling his eyes at that. “‘Miya-san’ is my idiot brother. Call me Atsumu.”
A lightning bolt of electricity went down Shouyou's spine at that. God, this man was going to drive him crazy.
“Ah,” Shouyou said. He was trying very hard not to vibrate out of his own skin, or jump Atsumu's bones right there.
“Then, Atsumu-san.” Atsumu. Atsumu.
He smiled at that, and turned back around fully. Shouyou kept looking, until he disappeared among the throng of people frantically milling around trying to get in position.
Right. Time to get serious. This is exactly what he'd been training for. He could do this. He slowly walked over to the rest of the crowd, all waiting for Coach Foster to continue. He could do this. He could do this.
There was a nervous energy in the room, like an unsteady heartbeat you could feel in your fingertips. Right now, Shouyou didn't even have the right to stand next to that man as an equal. Before he managed that, there was no way he could ever hope to get Atsumu to feel the same way for him. And yet. He couldn't suppress the urge to turn his head and look for Atsumu again. His eyes found him just as easily.
This time, Atsumu didn't walk away. This time, he stood still and kept his eyes on Shouyou. It was..almost addicting, having Atsumu’s undivided attention. Like falling off the edge of a precipice, like being swept away to sea at high tide. He never wanted it to stop.
Things were about to get very interesting, huh?
***
