Archive of Our Own

Osamu and Sunarin are sitting behind some bushes in the courtyard alley leading to the baseball equipment shed, hanging out during lunch. They're not talking, just chilling, when they hear footsteps in the dirt on the other side of their bushes. They're there because the outside space is already pretty private during lunchtime, not a lot of people passing by this way, and the space they’re hanging out in—against the outside wall of an empty science lab, obscured by leaves and trees—offers even more privacy.

In their first year, when they’d thought each other cute, they spent some time here making out. In their second year, with the way Suna’s actually got it bad for his dumbass twin (Rin’s a poor sucker for it; Osamu’s clearly the better choice, but he won’t begrudge his friend his bad judgement), and with how Osamu can’t quite stop thinking about the way their new captain’s eyes welled up when he received his number one jersey and how pretty a pink his cheeks had been for the rest of that practice, they now just hang out here more out of habit and the mutual need for silence.

Every so often, however, they luck into a confession scene, and they get to pick up some gossip firsthand.

Suna’s gnawing on another one of his endless supply of jelly sticks, and Osamu’s just thinking about how he should have tried to put last night’s teriyaki into today’s onigiri, when they hear those aforementioned footsteps and catch each others’ eyes.

Sure enough, a girl’s voice stutters out, “Th-thanks for comin’, Senpai,” and Suna smirks, straightening up a little to get a view of what’s going on, peeking between leaves and branches.

Osamu watches Rin’s expression first instead of following suit, waiting on his friend to see if it’d be worth the effort of spying, so he sees the way Suna goes slack-jawed and his eyes go wide, right as a familiar and serious tenor replies, “It’s no problem.”

Osamu’s eyes widen too, his heart stopping right in his chest as he whips his head up none too subtly and sees Kita-san standing in front of a petite girl. He recognizes her, actually, because she’s in his and Suna’s class, and suddenly he wonders what she’s been looking at, all those times Kita-san dropped by for whatever administrative reasons he needed Osamu and Suna for.

“Kita-senpai,” she says, sounding like she’s readying herself, and Osamu—doesn’t really know what he wants to happen, in this moment.

Sure, Kita-san is attractive, but the fact remains that Osamu also holds a deep respect-slash-fear for his captain. The older boy is straight-forward, and never holds back on what he sees, and sometimes his critiques hurt. Following all that, Osamu has no idea how nice Kita’s going to be about this girl’s confession, and that’s not even considering the fact that Osamu won’t know what to do with himself if Kita says yes to her. Would he say yes to her?

Beside Osamu, Suna’s got that avid look on his face that says he thinks he’s about to discover Kita-san’s very first imperfection. Osamu can barely stand Suna’s weird obsession with finding a gap with their captain, and he doesn’t know how Tsumu stands having Suna’s attention somewhere else like that. Osamu himself can barely stand knowing Suna’s sometimes focusing on Kita just as hard as Osamu does, if not more. He doesn’t want to think about who else is looking at Kita-san.

Right now, Osamu can’t even stand knowing this random girl in his class has been looking up at Kita-san when he visits with the same kind of eyes Osamu’s been looking at him with.

Does Kita-san think she’s cute?

The girl—Hagakure, her name is Hagakure—clears her throat, her entire face already a red Osamu would maybe call fetching if she wasn’t about to confess to Kita-san. “I like you, Senpai!” she says. “I think you’re really handsome, and smart. Would ya please consider goin' out with me?”

Suna leans in, almost sways forward, drawn in by the idea that Kita might fumble, choke, or get flustered.

Despite himself, Osamu leans in too.

Kita blinks at Hagakure, and then, extremely terrifyingly, he looks right at where Suna and Osamu are spying on them.

In the end, Suna’s the one that chokes, Osamu’s the one that flusters, and the two of them together fumble to duck back down even though it’s clearly already way too late.

Fuck.

They’re in trouble.

“How does he see everything?” Suna whispers, his face paler than usual. “Goddamn Kita-san. He has to be a robot for sure.”

“Shut up,” Osamu whispers back, whacking his friend in the knee.

“Kita-senpai?” Hagakure asks hesitantly. At least she didn’t notice them.

“Ah,” Kita replies belatedly. “Sorry, Hagakure-san, but I already like someone else.” There's the shuffling sound of clothing, and even though Osamu’s not looking anymore, he can only imagine that it’s Kita-san bowing in apology.

Osamu spares a second to be relieved Kita said no after all, and then he processes the rest of it, and his ears start to ring.

“He likes someone?” Rin asks, with a face that says his birthday came early. In this moment, Osamu can’t relate.

“O-oh,” Hagakure says, sounding crestfallen. "That's okay…” She pauses, and then, “May I ask who it is?”

Suna leans forward again, but Osamu almost doesn’t want to hear it. Who could Kita-san be interested in? What kind of person can catch the eye of Mister Perfect No-Gaps Kita himself?

“No, you may not,” Kita replies firmly, not any louder but several degrees colder.

Hagakure makes a sound very close to a squeak and says, “I'm sorry!” in a high-pitched and very distressed voice. “Sorry for botherin' you, Senpai! Thanks again!” More rustling, like Hagakure is bowing profusely—definitely at least twice, if not three or four times—and then light footsteps on the dirt path fade out, scurrying away very fast.

Silence, again. The wind blows and rustles the leaves of the bushes separating Osamu and Suna from the main courtyard path they just witnessed a rejection on.

Osamu and Suna sit very still, highly aware that only one pair of footsteps had been heard leaving the area.

“Y’all still pretendin’ to hide?” asks a monotone voice that betrays nothing. Both second years stiffen up, and Osamu feels very distinctly like a prey animal experiencing the freeze reaction as that second pair of footsteps in the dirt path get louder as they approach the bushes Osamu and Suna sit behind.

The leaves rustle when Kita-san leans over the bush to look at them. His face is blank, his brown eyes piercing. His bangs flutter a little in the breeze, and even though Osamu’s probably about to get lectured within an inch of his life, he spends a second admiring the way his senpai is backlit by the blue sky behind him.

“Suna,” Kita says. “Osamu.”

“…Yes, Captain?” the both of them reply. Kita stares into what seems like Suna’s soul before treating Osamu to the same frank gaze.

“Would you say spying on confessions is a very respectful or even respectable thing to do?” he asks.

“…No, Captain,” they both reply. Osamu wouldn’t say they’re meek about it, but… Well, Osamu and Suna have certainly replied more strongly to things before.

Kita-san hums. Osamu wishes it sounded more disappointed, if only because he would know for certain the depth of that disappointment. Instead, he flounders, wondering what his captain is thinking, and how difficult it will be to earn his pride and respect back after this incident.

“Why didn’t you tell us to go, if you thought it rude that we were listening?” Suna asks. Osamu is surprised with his audacity—usually, anyone on the receiving end of That Look from Kita would suffer it and abscond the second they could. Even Atsumu waits until Kita’s out of earshot before he starts complaining again.

“It would’ve only embarrassed her more to know y’all were there,” he says, “and I know you won’t spread gossip about her.” The weight of his stare is so heavy, Osamu’s surprised he nor Suna collapse underneath it. Kita only waits a moment to let his point sink in before saying, “Anyways, she’s in yer class, ain’t she? So she’d recognize ya and have to sit through the rest of the day knowin’ y’all saw her get rejected.”

“You actually know her?” Osamu can’t help but ask. He barely remembered her name until this moment, but now he’ll be thinking about her courage and subsequent rejection in the face of Kita-san for the rest of the week. It's as much respect as it is jealousy swirling uncomfortably low in Osamu’s stomach—he doesn’t think he could ever confess like that. Not to his captain. But Kita-san knew her. Do they even have anything in common?

Kita examines Osamu’s face for a moment, and then nods. Osamu can’t even guess what he’d been looking for, much less what he found. “She’s on the student council so I've had to talk to her a few times for club stuff.” The warning bell rings before anyone says anything else, and Kita straightens up. “C’mon, don’t be late.”

Osamu and Suna scramble to gather their stuff and walk silently behind Kita-san as their captain leads the way back into the school. He nods at them when they reach the fork between the second and third year classes, and the second he’s gone, Suna turns to Osamu.

“Who do you think he likes?” he asks, the gears in his head obviously turning as he no doubt plans another scenario to try to catch Kita-san with his guard down.

Osamu flexes his fingers and then sticks them in his pockets, affecting an aloof face as he replies, “Why should I care?”

But in the back of his mind, to the rhythm of his heart, all he can hear is, Me. Me. I want it to be me.

*

It's been a few months since Kita-san got elected as their new captain and he cried quietly in front of everyone. The summer Inter-High Tourney is around the corner (the qualifiers neatly won by Inarizaki, of course), and at some point in all those months, Osamu developed a crush on his volleyball captain.

He’s not exactly sure when it happened.

In Osamu’s first year, Kita-san was a consistent presence, but always in the background. He was Aran-kun’s friend, and had a good eye for the court, especially because he usually wasn’t on it himself—no offense to him, but he never left the bench last year, even though he kept up well in practice. A few of his yearmates and even the third years at the time would ask him for advice though, so the first years started doing it too. Even though the twins had initially been bitter about it, it was because of Kita-san that they’d shaped up their receives: he’d told them point-blank that experimenting on the court would be pointless if they couldn’t even follow up on the balls they dropped trying stupid things. It hurt their egos, but it also sparked their need to win, and it turned into a good excuse to practice jump serves against each other too.

Throughout all that, Osamu had been fighting with his twin like he always does, hanging off of Aran during practice breaks to annoy him, and kissing Sunarin at lunch behind bushes.

And then Suna had started on his stupid quest to find Kita-san’s gaps, all so that one day he might have something to rib the guy with—any small thing he could hold over Kita’s head for a teasing laugh. He'd go to practice early to see if he could beat Kita-san there, and ask Kita-san if he was having trouble in any school subject; follow Kita-san diligently during their training runs to see if he might take a shortcut, and observe where Kita-san was looking during practices to see if maybe, as someone who eternally rode the bench, he’d slack off at some point.

It was funny to watch Rin try and come up with nothing, and then Osamu realized one day that, huh: he was watching Rin try.

It’s not like Sunarin’s perpetually lazy—he got scouted by their school to play volleyball, after all—but he’s definitely a bare minimum kind of guy. Granted his bare minimum is pretty high into the maximum, since his minimum standard still involves being as good as he is at the sport that he plays, but he’s a straggler. He's the type to lag behind out of apathy, and if he doesn’t think he needs to do it—like running the whole route when he’s already doing cardio at practice with every jump—then he simply won’t.

But Suna got so involved in trying to find Kita-san’s gaps, he started being the second to practice; accidentally nabbed Kita-san as a tutor for all the second years when they need it (thank you, Rin); consistently began running the full route during training; and stopped slacking as much on court because he found that Kita-san never slacked off and so, like the panopticon, Kita could theoretically be looking over his performance during practice at any point in time.

And Kita didn’t do any of that on purpose. He'd just been his diligent self: sticking to his routine of cleaning the bathroom and locker room (maybe that’s why Hagakure likes him, Osamu thinks bitterly; it’s the student council that looks into club room care, isn’t it?), observing practice with sharp eyes, offering cold but honest words of improvement.

Atsumu always bluntly tells people to be better or they’re not worth his time, and a lot of people have hated him for it in the past, even when he’d been right about them (not that Osamu would say that to his twin’s face). With his demeanour, Kita-san just seems to naturally exude the same message: shape up, and match the dedication that I have for the things that shape me with dedication of your own toward the things that shape you.

During all that, kissing Suna died down, awareness of Kita ramped up, and Osamu asked himself: What shapes me?

Is it my twin? Is it volleyball? Is it how hungry I can get, and the food I make to satisfy that hunger?

Kita’s quiet tears and shaky inhale over his captain jersey (his third jersey number ever in his whole life, according to the digging Rin did on behalf of his annoying quest for blackmail material on Kita-san; he'd concluded that it doesn’t count as a gap when he hadn’t even made the bench in middle school and now he’s their team captain—"That’s just an impressive growth pipeline and an inspiring story," Rin had grumbled with a put-out look on his face) were just the last nails on the coffin of Osamu’s burgeoning crush.

So he’s still afraid of Kita-san, yes, but he also likes him. Sometimes, it’s the liking him that makes Kita Shinsuke all the more scary, to Osamu.

And now, Osamu sits with the knowledge that Kita-san likes someone, too.

“What kind of person would Kita-san even like?” Suna asks a week later, in front of Tsumu and Gin whom they’re visiting in Class 2-1 for lunch. The two of them whip their gazes at Sunarin, and Osamu puts his head in his hands. Kita-san said no gossip, but to Rin’s credit, that was technically about Hagakure and not Kita himself. Osamu should have known Suna would mention it to their other friends eventually.

“He likes someone?” Gin asks eagerly, leaning in, eyebrows up.

Atsumu shoots a smirk at Osamu. “Too bad, so sad, huh Samu-chan. It’s probably Oomimi-san. Y’know, he and Oomimi-san drink tea together in their class at lunch all the time and they look so married.” He actually does know this, because Tsumu mentioned it after scoping out the third years’ classes to see where their senpai ended up. Osamu spent the rest of the day alternating between being jealous of Oomimi, and imagining himself and Kita-san drinking tea together on the theoretical engawa of Kita-san’s family farm—theoretical, because he’s never actually been there himself.

“It could also be Ojiro-san,” Ginjima says, with a sheepish look at Osamu. “They walk home together all the time, just them two.” He might be right, but the comment stings of betrayal. Tsumu is one thing, because he gives Osamu shit every day of his life and then some, but Ginjima? Oof.

“Might as well throw Akagi-san in,” Rin says, rolling his eyes. “It could also be a girl in his class—or even one of us.” He smirks at Osamu when he says this, and Osamu tries to push down the blush that comes up. Gods, but he wishes.

“As if it’d ever be the twins,” Ginjima laughs, and Ouch, Gin. He freezes just a second later to clear his throat, another awkward look thrown at Osamu, but the damage is done. Osamu glares at him, and his shoulders curl in when he explains, “Y’all’re probably way too rowdy for ‘im!”

“Hey, I’m a catch!” Tsumu argues. “Kita-san would be so lucky! Ain’t that right, Rintarou?” he asks, leaning into his boyfriend’s space and puckering his lips in Rin’s face. Ugh.

“I don't know if I’d call myself lucky,” Rin replies, pushing at Tsumu’s face, but he’s smiling—even though he never does that—and it’s full of affection. Ugh.

“Rin,” Tsumu complains, and then shuts up when Suna leans in to kiss his cheek.

“Get a fuckin’ room, why don’t’cha,” Osamu says, scowling at them.

“I dunno why ya stopped kissin’ him, Samu,” Tsumu says, pulling away from Suna to pucker his lips at Osamu instead. “I’d never do it.”

“It's ‘cuz he said he liked ya and I realized there was somethin’ deeply wrong with him,” Osamu says, scrunching his nose up at his twin.

“That's fair,” Rin pipes up.

“Rin,” Tsumu whines.

Gin chuckles. “Y’all’re so weird,” he says, shaking his head. “I’d’a thought you’d be at least a little jealous, Osamu.”

“Rin’s cute but there were never feelings,” he explains, waving his hand. “And then he said he thought Tsumu was magnetic or whatever, and it was a huge turn-off. Thinkin’ about kissin’ him now gives me hives.”

“Awh,” Tsumu exclaims, his face equal parts sappy and gleeful as he dimples at his boyfriend. “You think I'm magnetic?”

Rin turns very red as he glares at Osamu. “You said you wouldn’t tell him I said that!”

“Then stop gossipin’ and flirtin’ while I'm tryin’ to eat,” Osamu sneers back.

“I’ll save ya from my evil twin, Sunarin!” Tsumu boasts, hanging off his boyfriend’s shoulders. “And then we can talk about how magnetic ya find me after school.” 

Ughhh.

"This is your fault, Gin,” Suna grouses, still blushing.

“Mine?” Gin asks, genuinely taken aback.

“Samu’s just mad ‘cuz Kita-san likes someone and it ain’t him,” Atsumu cuts in, detaching himself from Rin’s shoulders to put his elbows down on the desk between them all.

“This ain’t news,” Osamu says, crossing his arms.

“The news is that ya don’t actually know that, dumbass,” Tsumu says, flicking Osamu in the forehead. Osamu yelps, glaring at his twin and rubbing at where his skin is undoubtedly turning red. He kicks back in retaliation, but misses when Tsumu deftly moves his leg out of range without even looking at Osamu. “If I could bag him, so could you! Ya just gotta try!”

“Don't talk about him like that,” Osamu says. “And ya couldn’t bag him. That’s what Gin was saying, idiot.”

“I regret sayin’ that now,” Gin says. Too little, too late, asshole. Osamu glares at him again, and Gin sends him another sheepish look, not actually apologetic.

“We just have to figure out who it is,” Suna says, that scheming look in his eyes again.

Atsumu grins back at Rin, a scheming face to match. Osamu realizes that that’s why Tsumu’s okay with Rin paying so much attention to Kita-san—his twin is just as curious, and just as bad.

This isn’t gonna bode well for Osamu’s heart.

*

(The problem with scheming about their captain is that he is still, at the end of the day, their captain.

Tsumu and Rin and even Gin can scheme all they like, but their intrigue is never going to surpass how frightened they are that Kita-san is going to call them out and lecture them.

As a result, they’ve all collectively decided to save their investigation attempts into Kita-san’s crush for when they’re absolutely certain Kita won’t be able to hear them.

It’s a sound enough plan, Osamu supposes. Except for how it really isn’t.

It actually feels more like they’re heading toward a trainwreck, but Osamu doesn’t get off the train, so he’s probably the chump here.)

*

"Aran-kun,” Tsumu says during practice. Kita-san is far and away on the other side of the gym, watching the first years finish up a pepper drill. The practice game the second and third years are running pauses for a break, and Atsumu promptly sidles up to Aran to bother him. Rin and Gin follow, and Osamu sighs as he opens his water bottle and brings up the rear.

“What?” Aran asks, squinting at Tsumu and then darting a glance at Osamu. Clearly, his twin bullshit detector is pinging, which isn’t fair considering Osamu technically has nothing to do with this—aside from desperately wanting to know the answer to the question Tsumu’s about to start probing for, but that’s neither here nor there.

“You an’ Kita-san go home together all the time, right?” his twin asks, elbowing their childhood friend/senpai in the side and stopping the guy from taking a drink of water.

Aran pushes his bony elbow away, frowning at him suspiciously. “Yeah? His bus stop’s the same direction as my house.”

“He takes the bus and still gets here first for morning practice?” Suna asks, looking vaguely ill. “Why does he even go here?”

“Academic scholarship,” Aran answers.

“Of course he has a scholarship,” Rin mutters, and Osamu barely resists smacking him. Like Rin isn’t on scholarship too. A sports scholarship is still a scholarship.

“He lives out in the countryside, doesn't he?” Gin asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Yeah, that too,” Aran says.

“So are ya datin’, then?” Atsumu asks, cutting into the conversation again. “Do ya hold hands on the way to the bus stop? Does he drop you off and kiss ya on yer doorstep?” Tsumu’s bony-ass elbow comes out again, and Aran smacks at it, looking aggrieved.

“No, we’re not,” he says plainly, and Osamu feels just a little relieved. Just a smidge. Just ‘cuz he thought, if it was anyone, it’d be Aran-kun—tall, handsome, personable Aran-kun who’s the most dependable ace anyone could ask for, and their court captain to boot. Who wouldn’t like Aran-kun?

…Wait, just ‘cuz they’re not dating doesn’t mean Kita-san doesn’t like him anyways! But if Aran has an answer to who Kita-san likes, then that probably means it’s not Aran himself, so. Does Aran know who Kita likes?

“Do ya know who he likes, then?” Atsumu asks, unintentionally providing evidence to support twin telepathy. “Is it Oomimi-san? My bet is on Oomimi-san!”

“Bet?” Aran asks. “You’re bettin’ on Shinsuke’s love life?” he bursts out, fluttering his hands about like he does when he doesn’t know what else to do with them. When none of the second years can quite meet his eyes, Aran barks out a sharp laugh. “Yikes! Good luck.”

"Aran-kun!” Tsumu cries. “That’s so ominous!”

“I think it was supposed to be,” Gin says nervously.

“Serves y’all right,” Aran says, shaking his head and probably trying to shake his disbelief with it. “Suna never steps in, but you didn’t put a stop to this, Gin?”

“What?” Gin asks. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Hey, it’s not like I started this,” Osamu puts in for himself.

“Yer still here, though, ain’t’cha?” Aran asks, brow raised. Osamu doesn’t refute his point, instead choosing silence. Aran nods, disappointed but not surprised, and takes a deep drink of his water like a man drowning himself in alcohol to forget all his troubles. Osamu’s never been affected by his disappointment, so he just watches his friend’s melodramatic disapproval, unconcerned.

Gin, however, looks stressed about Aran’s worsening opinion of him. Poor guy.

(Just kidding; Osamu has no sympathy for him.)

“Anyways,” Aran says, detaching himself from his water bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Drink some water before Coach blows his whistle. Break’s almost over.”

Sure enough, the whistle goes, and the second years down messy mouthfuls of water as they rush back onto court.

Osamu stands in the back row, wiping off the water that had spilled down his own chin with the collar of his shirt, and wonders if Aran-kun had an answer for them that he just didn’t want to give.

*

“Oomimi-san,” Sunarin says a few days later, as Ginjima and Atsumu ask Kita-san for help with their homework in the locker room. While the Class 2-1 dopes distract their captain with their middling grades, Osamu and Rin take the opportunity to do cooldown stretches alongside their tallest senpai. Suna waited until they were doing the last of their leg stretches before asking, in an attempt to make the question more casual. “You’re friends with Kita-san, right?”

“Of course,” Oomimi replies with a nod, reaching for his foot to work his hamstring. “We’re quite good friends."

Osamu—who is having a harder time denying to himself that he is invested in his friends’ and brother’s casual probing for his crush’s crush—tries to touch his toes and thinks about what good friends might entail, and if it includes things like kissing and hand-holding.

“You wouldn’t happen to know who he likes then?” Suna asks, casual and unaffected as he places his palms facedown on the floor with his foot in between them. Flexible bastard.

“Where’d ya hear he liked anyone?” Oomimi asks.

“He told us,” Osamu replies, mentally counting to ten and then switching his feet.

“He told you?” Osamu doesn’t need to look to know their senpai is surprised, but he looks up to check anyways and finds raised eyebrows directed at him. Oomimi-san searches Osamu’s expression as he withdraws his leg for a quick counterstretch before switching it up as well, and Osamu wonders what he’s trying to find.

“He just said that he likes someone,” Osamu says.

“Well, he told someone else and we happened to hear it,” Suna corrects, his face to his knee. “He knew we were there though, so it counts as telling us anyways.”

Oomimi stares at them both over his other leg. “Y’all meddlin’?” he asks skeptically. And then he smirks. “Good luck.”

Sunarin sits up, finished with stretching both his legs in front of him, and sighs as he puts his heels together to do a butterfly stretch. “Ojiro-san said that too.”

“It’s ‘cuz you’ll need it,” Oomimi says with a poorly hidden chuckle, following suit with his own butterfly stretch. “Shinsuke’s a tough nut to crack.”

“We're not meddlin’,” Osamu says, now in a butterfly stretch too, pressing down on his knees and resisting the pressure to work his thigh muscles a little.

“Only curious,” Suna adds with a nod.

“What’ll ya do if ya get yer answer, then?” Oomimi asks. “Hang onto it?”

“Exactly,” Suna confirms, finished with the butterfly and leaning back on his hands. “Just like I hang onto all the photos and videos I take of the twins being idiots.”

“Hey,” Osamu protests, getting out of his own stretch and kicking at Suna’s knee. Suna raises an unimpressed brow and dodges with an ease that speaks of muscle memory.

“Ya realize that makes it sound like you’ll use Shin’s crush as blackmail?” Oomimi asks as he leans back too, all three of them finished with the last of their stretches.

“That’s not what I meant.” Sunarin waves his hand in front of him like he’s waving away the accusation. “I just like to know things.”

“Like how ya wanted to know if Shinsuke’s a robot?”

Rin clears his throat, casting his eyes to the side. “Maybe.”

“Told ya that would bite you in the ass,” Osamu says.

“Like you weren’t also wondering.”

Osamu scoffs, but doesn’t admit out loud that Rin is right.

Oomimi doesn’t hide his chuckle this time. "Shin's just like that,” he says. “Y’all know by now—he's real kind underneath that face, and a real hard worker.”

“We know,” Osamu grumbles.

Oomimi huffs. “Good.”

“So you don’t know who it is?” Rin asks, pushing. “Or are you just not telling us?”

Their senpai pauses, looking up at the ceiling of their gym. The doors leading outside are propped open, the summer breeze drifting in, and the sun shining bright enough through the ceiling windows that the lights are off. Their other teammates—the ones that haven’t already gone home for the day—are lounging around as well. Practice is well and truly over, and Tsumu, Gin and any other second year that needed some tutoring will probably leave the locker room with Kita-san soon.

“Would it matter, if he isn’t even plannin’ on tellin’ them?” Oomimi finally asks.

That takes both Osamu and Rin by surprise.

“Is it one-sided?” Rin asks. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Oomimi shrugs. “Dunno,” he replies. “We’re graduatin’ at the end of this year. There's the future to think of.”

Osamu ponders this, staring up at the ceiling of the gym now too. He’s surprised that Kita might be the type to hold onto his feelings without saying anything, because he’s always been straightforward. Then again, they’ve only ever interacted in a volleyball context, so maybe he just holds his non-volleyball cards close to his chest.

Besides, maybe he should be grateful Kita-san doesn’t want to say anything. Maybe this means Osamu won’t have to feel jealous after all, and he too can live out his remaining high school years holding onto his feelings.

But then he thinks about Tsumu unabashedly dating Sunarin, and feels like maybe that's a losing thought to have.

Should he confess? Even if Kita-san likes someone else?

He's so deep in thought, he doesn’t hear a door swinging open and the crowd of footsteps coming their way until there’s a handsome face blocking the ceiling rafters from his view, acorn gaze boring into him upside down.

“Ya sure ya don’t need a review?" Kita-san asks, looking down at him. “Yer brother mentioned yer no help with homework.”

Osamu blinks up at him, thinking idly about the way the skylights lighting up his hair make him look a bit like an angel. A very serious one; maybe not super merciful, but ultimately kind.

Unlike Osamu. “My grades’re fine; he's just too annoying to help,” he replies.

“I'm not annoying; Samu’s a shitty tutor!” a voice close to him protests, but Osamu doesn’t look away from Kita-san even as his captain looks to the side where Tsumu is undoubtedly invading Sunarin’s personal space.

“The team’ll suffer if y’all fail yer courses,” Kita says.

“Yes, Kita-san,” comes a chorus of voices. Osamu finally rolls his head to the side and finds not just Tsumu in Suna’s lap (ugh, sometimes Osamu hates when he’s right), but also Gin, Kosaku, and a few of the first years standing around them. Aran-kun is also there, having helped Kita with the impromptu tutoring session, and he’s looking at Osamu curiously. When Osamu tilts his head at him, Aran raises his eyebrows back, so Osamu scrunches his nose at him, and looks away when his friend laughs quietly in response.

There’s a nudge at his shoulder, and Osamu turns around to see Kita’s sweatpants-clad knee pushing into him. “You, Suna, and Ren should all get changed so I can lock up the gym. C'mon," he says, and then he calls out the names of their other teammates that haven’t changed yet to tell them to do the same. Osamu, however, soaks up Kita-san's solid presence behind him and doesn’t get up until Kita steps back and the leg pressed into Osamu’s back disappears.

When he gets up, he finds his twin making a face at him. Osamu makes a face back at Tsumu, and Tsumu sticks his tongue out at him because he’s a very mature person.

“Fuck off,” Osamu says, and trudges into the locker room to change.

His back is warm all the way home.

*

Their little investigation into Kita-san’s love life gets paused so they can play at the Inter-High.

It's thrilling. Under Kita’s leadership, they make it all the way to the finals, even though they lose to Itachiyama at the very end of it. It's a frustrating game, their team only managing to take the second set before ultimately losing to them 3-1, but that only serves to light a fire under their asses.

He watches Kita-san shake hands with Itachiyama’s captain under the net. There’s a gleam in his expression as Itachiyama’s captain says something with a nod at Inarizaki’s side of the court, and Kita nods back, his eyes curving as he replies with something that makes the yellow-clad captain grin. The third year Tokyo setter is handsome and tall (though not as tall as Osamu), his hair pushed back from his face, and Osamu can’t help but wonder if maybe Kita-san’s crush is in another prefecture entirely. Maybe he doesn’t want to confess because it’s long distance?

Osamu is jolted out of his thoughts when the line moves down. Beside him, Atsumu looks across the net at Sakusa Kiyoomi and starts in on the guy’s freaky wrists and stupid ball spin before he unceremoniously points at his face and announces that he’ll set for the dour spiker one day. He tops the interaction off with a held out fist that doesn’t actually touch him, more of an acknowledging gesture than a bid for physical contact. Sakusa doesn’t seem to know what to do with the boisterous attitude when it’s paired with his brother's surprising respect for boundaries (though it’s not surprising to Osamu, who knows that the only physical boundaries Tsumu doesn’t respect are Osamu’s, and it’s a fair deal because it’s not like Osamu respects Tsumu’s either). Osamu tells Atsumu to shut up, offers the same acknowledging-but-not-touching fist bump to Sakusa, and then suddenly the handsome captain is in front of Osamu.

He beams, and it’s like the sun. “Good game!” he exclaims, shaking Osamu’s hand. “Man, Inarizaki’s second years are pretty scary, huh.”

“Y’all have yer own scary second years,” Osamu points out, not just talking about Sakusa, but their damn frustrating libero too.

“Sure do,” the captain—Iizuna?—beams. “I'm as proud of them as your captain is proud of you.” He claps Osamu on the shoulder before moving on to shake Rin’s hand, leaving Osamu to process that.

Was that what that look was on Kita-san’s face earlier?

Oh.

That… That’s nice. That Kita’s proud of them; that he might’ve been bragging about them, maybe, to the opposing team’s captain.

Kita-san (and Iizuna-san) are soon swept away with their coaches to do interviews, and Atsumu waves at all the flashing cameras. His twin elbows Aran and cajoles him into doing the same, pushing him about being one of the nation’s top five aces and acting more like it. Aran indulges him and waves his hand; another round of blinding flashes goes off that Osamu shields his eyes from.

Sunarin walks up beside him and bumps his shoulder companionably. “We'll have to win Spring Nationals now, huh,” he says. “Make Kita-san’s last tournament memorable.”

“He might quit the club to study,” Osamu points out.

“I doubt it,” Rin replies. “Look at him. He definitely wants to play with us some more.” He nods over at where Kita’s speaking to a reporter, and even though he’s not quite smiling, he’s nothing but confident as he talks to them. There's that gleam in his eyes again, which only becomes more apparent when he gives his we lost but this will only make us better speech to the team, and later still when silver medals get placed on their necks right after his own. The way he glances at them with what must be pride before they all bow in thanks at the sound of their school’s name, announced one last time as the silver medalists of the Inter-High Tournament.

It’s hot in Tokyo when they finally leave the crowded sports centre, after all the ceremonies are over. At dinner, Kita-san comes over and sets extra plates of meat in front of his kouhai, and then places a single bowl of rice down beside Osamu’s plate. “Eat up,” he says, with a light touch to Osamu’s shoulder, and Osamu fights with himself on whether he feels more stupid that his mouth is full to the point of his cheeks bulging at this very moment, or excited about the extra rice that his captain-slash-crush practically hand-delivered to him. Sure, it was beside more plates of meat for everyone, and Osamu’s bowl of rice is the only one that’s running on empty, but still.

He lands on excited about it because it’s meal time (always a cause for excitement), and he beams at Kita-san to convey his thanks—not even trying to use his words when his mouth is so full. Kita-san’s face does something Osamu isn’t quite quick enough to catch, but his captain seems to huff as he turns away and rejoins the third years at their own table, farther into the restaurant. Kita-san’s back faces Osamu as he walks off, but whatever expression he’s making has Akagi barking out a laugh, Aran raising a hand to pat Kita’s arm consolingly, and an amused Oomimi pushing a cup of water toward their captain.

Osamu would think about it more, or maybe nudge Rin about it, but then Atsumu comes out of nowhere to put Osamu in a headlock for some reason. Osamu almost chokes on the food he’d still been chewing, so he has to turn his attention away from his senpai and toward killing his twin before his twin kills him. It's only natural. Survival of the fittest twin, or something. Cain Instinct? It doesn't matter what reason he’s got for murder, so long as Osamu’s the one that lives.

They end up tumbling into another table and nearly get thrown out. Instead, they get lectured by both Kita-san and their coach at the front of the room while everyone else finishes up their meals, like they’re cheap dinner entertainment. Suna’s phone is definitely leaning against a bottle of soy sauce and recording.

It's a nice summer night in Tokyo regardless.

Osamu’s already looking forward to the next tournament.

*

“Akagi-san,” Ginjima says one day at the konbini. It's his turn to lead the second years’ super casual and not at all suspicious inquisition into Kita-san’s love life, and they lucked out: the four of them had been buying snacks after school on their break day, and their plucky libero walked in all by his lonesome to do the same thing.

After a brief conversation at lunch earlier in the week, they’d mutually decided to continue their investigation despite Oomimi-san’s very good point that maybe it might not even matter—Tsumu and Rin are dogs with a bone, Gin likes the energy, and Osamu is now morbidly curious despite his own feelings. Maybe he wants to measure himself up against whoever Kita likes. That's totally fine and normal, and won’t hurt at all, so… Yeah. He wants to know.

Besides, making Gin ask Akagi-san in particular comes with its own perks. Ginjima has a crush of his own on a senpai, and unlike Osamu, he is incapable of being subtle about it, so it’s fun to tease him about it. He looks like a tomato as he approaches Akagi, and Sunarin’s phone is already out.

“Yo, Gin!” Akagi replies cheerfully, nabbing two packages of cheese string from the open fridge section. “What can I do for ya?” He also turns and waves cheerfully across the aisle at the three other second years hovering incredibly conspicuously close by, and doesn’t even spare a glance at Suna’s phone. Tsumu grumbles something about the third years all being too used to them, and Osamu holds back a snort, not wanting to be seen agreeing with his brother in any sort of way.

“Ah! Uh,” Ginjima stutters, already flustered. Suna snickers. “We, uh… K-Kita-san lives out in farm country, right?” he asks awkwardly.

Akagi tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Does he like any of his neighbours?” Gin asks.

“Sure he does,” Akagi replies, and Osamu’s heart drops into his stomach before the libero continues, “They’re all nice folks that used to babysit him an’ his siblings when his family was busy. And Matsura-san two farms down makes amazing mochi! Shin always shares some with us after our New Year temple visits.”

“That sounds great, Akagi-san, but I meant like… Like-like,” Ginjima says, flushing harder.

“Articulate,” Sunarin murmurs, because he’s an asshole. Tsumu looks dumbfuck in love as he actually giggles at Rin’s comment, hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder to watch Gin fumble on Rin’s smartphone’s screen instead of in real life. Less out of solidarity with Ginjima and more out of wanting to bleach his eyes out from seeing Tsumu be lovey-dovey, Osamu smacks the phone out of Suna’s hands and aims it so that it flies at Tsumu’s face. Tsumu yelps as it hits his target, smacking his twin directly in the nose.

“Y’all good?” Akagi asks, while Gin looks curiously over at them.

“All good, senpai,” Osamu smiles in a way that’s meant to be at least disarming if not completely innocent, giving him a thumbs up and picking out a bag of chips before walking on over. Rin barely stops Atsumu from murdering Osamu by pulling him over to the next aisle to flirt, and Osamu mentally clings to the old adage, Out of sight, out of mind.

Akagi smiles jovially at Osamu and turns back to Gin. “So ya like Kita-san, do ya?”

Ginjima splutters again, and Osamu hides a laugh behind his fist because he tries to be a good friend. Most of the time.

“No, no, I don’t!” Ginjima flusters, waving his hands in front of his face so forcefully, both Akagi and Osamu have to dodge. “I'm, uh! I'm asking for someone else!”

“Are ya, now?” Akagi asks mildly, looking back at Osamu.

Osamu keeps his face as straight as possible and makes a note to beat Ginjima up when they leave from here. Nevermind about being a good friend. Osamu walks this path alone. “We just heard he liked someone and wanted to know who,” he explains, calm and cool and in control. His palms aren’t even sweating! “Thought maybe it could’a been a neighbour, since it doesn’t seem to be a student or teammate.”

"How'd ya come to that conclusion?” Akagi asks curiously.

“You sayin’ we’re wrong?” Osamu challenges.

“I’m not sayin’ anything,” Akagi replies, grinning again. He's the most easygoing one on their team, quick to smile in a way that comes off as actually genuine, instead of the veiled threats and vague condescensions that Tsumu’s own quick smiles always seem to promise. And yet, Osamu is realizing that easygoing doesn’t at all mean easy to read. “If y'all wanna see if Shin’s got a love story goin’ on with any boys or girls next door, just come check it out yourselves.”

“How would we do that?” Gin asks.

Akagi beams. “Me and Aran and even Ren have been anglin’ for a farm day with the team for ages. Maybe if it’s you guys that’re askin’, Shinsuke might actually say yes.”

Unbidden, the daydream of Osamu drinking tea with Kita-san on his engawa comes back to him, this time accompanied by the sunrise and the warmth of their arms pressed together. The low sound of Kita-san’s chuckle in his ear, whatever that sounds like. The weight of his head leaning on Osamu’s shoulder.

“If you ask soon, ya might even be able to see the ducks in the paddies before they round ‘em back up for the season,” Akagi adds, and Osamu’s little daydream gains the ambient sounds of ducks quacking and splashing as they swim in the distance.

“Sure, we can ask,” Osamu says. It comes off nonchalant for sure. He mentally pats himself on the back for it.

“Awesome,” Akagi says. “Anyways, I gotta go! My sister's back from uni this week and she wanted to cook dinner together. Later!” He salutes at Osamu, punches Ginjima affectionately in the shoulder, and heads to the cashier to pay for his cheese string.

Ginjima sighs lovingly, rubbing at where Akagi punched him. “He cooks with his sister? That's so cute.”

“I cook with my brother,” Osamu points out. And then, more annoyed, “Actually, I cook for my brother, and he’s an ungrateful ass about it every time.”

“It’s ‘cuz you’re a sucker,” Suna says, walking up to them with a canned coffee in hand. His lips are kiss-bitten subtly redder than usual, which Osamu only really notices because he knows what Rin’s lips look like kiss-bitten, and it makes him once again deeply regret making out with the guy in first year. Not because it was bad, but because it gives him insight into his brother's current romantic relationship that he really, truly, does not want to know, and yet can’t help automatically intuiting. Osamu’s a spiker good enough to read his brother’s crazy ideas with the barest amount of signalling, and he’s sharp enough to throw that back at him with an intensity to match. Of course he’s observant enough to clock tiny details and make connections with them. In moments like these, however, the skill is nothing but regrettable and unfortunate.

Osamu sighs. “Don’t talk about sucking in front of me ever again,” is his only response. It's tired. He’s tired. “Where's Tsumu?”

Sunarin smirks at him, unrepentant, and points to the wall of fridges at the back. Tsumu’s deliberating ice cream flavours, and Osamu suddenly materializes the energy to go fight with him about it because he has stakes in this decision—their mom only lets them get one pint at a time.

Osamu wins and takes home milk tea flavour because when they start throwing hands and Tsumu calls him basic, Sunarin doesn’t intervene in favour of pointing his phone at them (like always), and Ginjima decides to hold back Atsumu instead of Osamu.

Maybe Osamu should give more consideration to solidarity with Ginjima after all. Maybe being a good friend (most of the time) has its merits.

*

“Kita-san,” Osamu says, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too bad. He should have realized that his fellow three second years addressing the other three third years meant that Osamu would be pushed into talking to their captain, but that doesn’t occur to him until Tsumu literally shoves him into Kita-san’s way before morning practice. He vows to make himself an only child before the day is out, and he valiantly ignores the snickering behind him to pose as casually as possible against the locker next to him. “We have a question for ya we were hopin’ to get answered.”

Kita tilts his head. The action itself is cute in a puppydog sort of way, but the focused attention makes Osamu a little hot under the collar and it’s way too early in the morning for Osamu to be feeling like this. 

“What is it?” his captain asks, blissfully unaware of the effect his discerning eyes tend to have on Osamu.

In his peripheral vision, Osamu notes the other third years in the locker room look up at what’s going on. He can almost hear their thoughts like he’s suddenly developed superpowers: Is Osamu just gonna ask Shinsuke who he likes directly?

The answer to that is, of course, Absolutely the fuck not.

“Akagi-san mentioned you had ducks on yer rice farm,” Osamu says instead. “Me and Gin were wonderin’ if we could go see ‘em?”

Akagi perks up from where he’d been changing into his gym training shirt. “See, Shin! We should have a team sleepover at yer farm!”

Aran grins, not wasting the opportunity. “Sleepover! Sleepover!” he starts chanting, and of course Atsumu immediately joins in too. Soon, the whole room is chanting, and Osamu’s brain is already running away with the idea of sneaking about Kita-san’s hallway at night while everyone else is sleeping and encountering him in the kitchen for a midnight snack or something.

“You’re bein’ rowdy,” Kita says, somehow audible amongst the clamour even though he doesn’t raise his voice. The locker room goes immediately quiet, and Kita looks around at all of them as he places his hands on his hips, contemplative. “Y’all wanna help gather the ducks when we’re done with them for the season?” he proposes. “It’s hard work, but more hands would be nice.”

“Of course you’d make us work for a sleepover,” Aran says, too fond to be exasperated.

“We don't have enough space for the whole team so we’ll only house the farm help,” Kita says, and well. That does sound reasonable. “If the rest’a y’all wanna make a day trip to say hi and not work, that’s also fine—ya just can’t stay the night.”

“We’d be running after ducks all day if we help?” Suna asks, more skeptical than intrigued.

“In the rice paddies, yeah,” Kita says. “It's walkin’ around and gathering ‘em in baskets and stuff. There's maybe a few hundred?”

“Few hundred?” Tsumu asks, awed or maybe intimidated. Osamu is leaning toward intimidated himself, but he can already hear Tsumu giving him shit if he shows it.

“S’why help would be nice,” Kita says. “Anyways, get changed. I'll message the group chat about this again later, if y’all’re serious about it.”

He turns to his locker to start changing, clearly ending the conversation, and the team follows his example. Osamu averts his eyes before he catches his captain taking off his shirt and revealing skin that Osamu won’t know how to cope with looking at. He’s only taken out of his willful ignorance of Kita’s presence when Akagi claps him on the shoulder. “Glad you asked, Osamu,” he says, fully changed and on his way out of the locker room. “Thanks!” Following him is Aran, who pats his shoulder and says, “Good job, Samu,” and last is Oomimi, who just gives Osamu a particularly mystifying smile.

He looks around the locker room as the door swings shut behind his senpai, confused, and he takes in that Kita-san’s probably been long gone. Tsumu’s gone too, likely already outside and doing a pepper drill with someone he bullied into warming up with him. There are only a handful of people left in the locker room, but that includes Sunarin, who’d been lounging on the bench using his phone. He’d apparently looked up just in time to catch… whatever that was, with the third years.

“Huh,” his best friend says, watching the locker room door close behind Oomimi-san.

“That was weird, right?” Osamu asks.

“Yeah…” Rin replies, narrowing his light eyes at the door. “Do you… No, that can’t be right.”

“What?”

Sunarin meets Osamu’s gaze. “You don’t think our senpai played us, do you?”

Osamu frowns. “No…” he says, unsure. “At least… Not Kita-san. What reason would he have to do that?”

“Not Kita-san,” Sunarin agrees. “But…”

Osamu shifts on his feet and crosses his arms. He didn’t get the impression that they’d been involved in some sort of long con, so—

“No. They wouldn’t do that,” Osamu says, with finality.

It's almost a hundred percent confident.

“Right,” Rin says. “No. They wouldn’t.”

“Right,” Osamu nods.

They pause, and then, clearly not wanting to think on it further, they both spring into action at the same time. Sunarin gets up from the bench and picks up his water bottle and hand towel, Osamu grabs his own stuff and shuts his locker behind him, and they exit the locker room together.

The third years don’t scheme. Scheming is what the twins and Suna do, not Oomimi and Akagi and Aran. In fact, Aran in particular actively stops schemes—Osamu and Atsumu can personally attest to multiple counts of this.

There’s no way.

…Right?

*

They decide on a weekend in August for the Volunteer at Kita’s and You Get to Sleep Over thing that Osamu may or may not have been maneuvered into asking for by the third years. The ducks apparently work during the late summer months to eat weeds and pests and stuff, but now that the rice has grown and harvesting season is coming up, it’s time for the ducks to retire.

The rice paddies seem to stretch out endlessly in the early morning light, the fields surrounded by a beautiful view of the mountains—a picture-perfect postcard view of the Hyōgo countryside. The summer sky feels bluer here, and there are indeed ducks quacking and splashing, not just in the distance but close by. They're cute little things, and there are a lot of them; Osamu can’t imagine how he’s going to be picking them up and placing them in baskets, but he supposes he’s going to find out soon.

He and Tsumu look around at everything, mouths open and eyes wide, shuffling after Aran-kun as he leads the way toward Kita-san’s house from the fence entrance where Aran’s parents dropped them off. When they get there and Aran knocks, Kita-san opens the door, wearing blue full-body coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, and a white shirt that shows off his shoulders in a way Osamu doesn’t let himself linger on. Instead, he focuses on the lightness in the way Kita-san carries himself, so evidently comfortable in his home, surrounded by clouds and nature, cozy wooden textures and verdant greens. He looks different in clothes that aren’t their volleyball uniform, gym clothes, or school uniform, and it suits him.

Kita-san fits, and it makes Osamu wonder if he could ever find a place to fit somewhere, too. He feels this same way sometimes when he watches Tsumu train his serves late into the night, only to switch to more setting. His twin always seems hungry for volleyball, but at that point in the night, Osamu stands to the side and finds himself plain old hungry. Atsumu fits on the court because he’s full just from being there; Osamu is simply not the same. 

He hasn’t been thinking about it, too afraid of what it might mean for his and Tsumu’s shared childhood dream of playing volleyball together at the Olympics, but… Seeing Kita-san so light, so fitting—so full, standing here on his family farm—

Maybe Osamu should start looking away from volleyball to search for what really makes him hungry. Then maybe he’ll find where he fits.

“Y’all’re the first here,” Kita says, waving them in. “Baa-chan and I are just finishin’ up with breakfast. We’ll eat when the rest of ya come in, and then head to the fields with the rest’a my family and some other farmhands.”

“What’cha makin’, Kita-san?” Atsumu asks excitedly. He and Tsumu skipped breakfast to sleep in longer, so they’re both pretty stoked at the prospect of food.

“Need any help?” Aran adds.

“Nothin’ fancy,” Kita replies to Atsumu, and then to Aran, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Aran. Sit an’ relax ‘cuz y’all have a long day ahead’a ya.” He doesn’t really smile or anything, but Aran gulps like he’s just been threatened with a hundred flying receives around the gym.

Kita disappears into where the kitchen must be, and Osamu sits on Aran’s free side at the table, the other side already occupied by his twin.

“This ain’t yer first time here, right Aran-kun?” Osamu asks.

“Nope,” Aran replies, shaking his head. “Me, Michinari and Ren usually come here for new years after we pray at the shrine, and we sleep over sometimes before exams so we can study all weekend.”

“Huh,” Osamu says. “If y’all’ve slept over here before, why was Akagi-san pushing so hard for a sleepover with the whole team?"

Aran gives him an amused look, but his explanation doesn’t seem to match his expression because he says, “Michinari just likes team bonding.”

Atsumu, however, seems to read something in Aran’s face that has him bolting up. "Aran-kun!” he exclaims. “Are ya serious?”

Aran gives Atsumu an alarmed look that quickly turns sheepish. Osamu is just confused.

“What?” Osamu asks, furrowing his brows.

His twin and his childhood friend turn to him at once, and it’s eerie. Tsumu doesn’t let the pause last long though. “Nothin’,” he says.

“It didn’t look like nothin’,” Osamu says, now even more suspicious. When he squints at Aran, Aran just looks back at Atsumu, apparently also just waiting to see what his twin will say.

“I just—” Tsumu leans back in his chair, pursing his lips in thought. And then, “Akagi-san obviously wants a team sleepover because he likes Gin back. Duh.”

“Oh,” Osamu says. “Actually, yeah. That tracks.”

“Yer too high an’ mighty to gossip about yer friends, so just go bother Kita-san in the kitchen,” Atsumu says, shooing him off. “I wanna ask Aran-kun more things about Akagi-san’s feelings.”

“It’s invasive when we’re friends, Tsumu,” Osamu scolds, a touch hypocritically. It’s just that Tsumu’s definitely gonna say something weird to Gin after this. At least with Kita-san, they were only probing for info. “Besides, Kita-san said to just sit.”

“You’re actually decent in the kitchen so I don’t think you’d be imposin’ if ya try to help, Samu,” Aran offers. “And if it makes ya feel better, I wasn't actually plannin’ on telling Tsumu anythin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” Atsumu says with a rudely pointed finger at Aran, promising a long and convoluted conversation that Osamu probably doesn’t want to listen to after all. “And you!” Tsumu swings his index from Aran’s face to Osamu’s. “Go ask about the rice. I know ya want to know about the harvestin’ process and taste it as fresh as possible.” He scoffs, unnecessarily aggressive. “Nerd.”

“The environment and the farming methods used to grow the rice largely affect taste!” Osamu defends, picking up a rant he goes on sometimes when Atsumu complains about price differences between food stalls during the summer festivals. He points back at his brother, just as rude. “One day I'll train ya into bein’ able to taste the nuance. You’ll take a bite and say, Hey, is this the first rice of the new year? and I’ll be the one laughin’.”

“Yeah, right,” Tsumu replies, rolling his eyes. “Go nerd out to Kita-san already.”

“Fine, I will,” Osamu says, getting up with as much offended melodrama as he can. It's only as he marches through the kitchen door that he realizes he’s willingly placed himself in the company of his crush and his crush’s very important grandma whom his crush loves very much and of whom he speaks very highly.

Oh no.

The door swings shut behind him, obscuring Aran’s and Tsumu’s voices, and both Kita-san and his gran turn to look at him curiously. Kita’s at the stove, cooking eggs in a pan with a pair of chopsticks and watching over a pot of what seems like miso soup, and his gran is chopping vegetables.

It smells good.

It's a small space.

Osamu is sweating.

“Osamu?” Kita-san asks. “Are you okay?”

Kita’s gran straightens up, smiling wide at him. “Osamu?” she asks, like she’s heard of him before. It makes him blush, thinking Kita-san might be talking about him—which he apparently does, because she follows up with, “The famous twins on Shin-chan’s team!” But then she says, "I watched y’all on TV in your last tournament!” and, ah. Maybe she just knows him because she watches Kita-san play. Still, that’s… adorable, actually.

Osamu takes another second to think about how cute Kita-san and his gran are, and then jolts himself into bowing, finally remembering his manners. “Yes, ma’am. That's me,” he says. “Thanks for watchin’ and supportin’ us, especially our captain! And, um, for havin’ us here today too.”

“It's my pleasure, Osamu-chan,” she replies warmly, and Osamu feels his blush get worse at the affectionate suffix, even though she’ll probably refer to the whole team with -chan today. “My name is Yumie, but feel free to call me Baa-chan. All of Shin-chan’s friends do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Osamu says, bowing again. “Uh! Obaa-san.” At Kita-san’s raised eyebrow, he amends, “Baa-chan. Sorry.”

Yumie-san titters, and—did Kita-san just chuckle? His captain’s shoulders shake slightly; his face is turned toward the stove so Osamu can’t see, but he wishes he could.

“Yer alright, Osamu-chan,” Yumie says kindly. “So did ya come to the kitchen for somethin’?”

“Ah, yes.” Osamu straightens up and shuffles in place. "I wanted to ask if I could help with breakfast, and maybe taste yer rice fresh? I'm, uh.” Kita-san is looking at him again, but he can’t quite meet his eyes without flustering. In the back of his head, Tsumu jeers and calls him Nerd again, and Osamu huffs to himself. “Tsumu says that all rice tastes the same but it doesn’t, and I wanted to have some of what y’all make here before I go walkin’ around in it.”

Yumie-san looks downright charmed at this, if Osamu does say so himself, and maybe he’s just seeing what he wants but he thinks Kita-san seems pleased too.

“Of course!” Yumie exclaims happily. Her enthusiasm curls nicely in Osamu’s chest.

“You can help Baa-chan with the veggies,” Kita-san says, nodding at the other chair next to his gran. “The rice cooker’s still goin’ but you can have the first bite when it’s done.”

Osamu beams, and something in Kita-san’s expression softens. His captain turns to grab a knife and another chopping board and sets it down at the free space at the table. Osamu takes the time to wash his hands at the sink, and smiles down at his soapy hands when Kita-san steps back to his place at the stove, as it happens to be right beside the sink. Their elbows brush. Osamu thinks, We are cooking breakfast together, and barely stops his smile from turning into a wild grin.

Yumie-san is lovely company, and easy to chat with as they finish chopping vegetables and do some quick pickling with them. When Kita-san finishes with the eggs and soup, he goes outside to set it on the table and greet their other teammates that have rolled in, but he surprisingly comes back into the kitchen just to stand behind Osamu’s chair for a while. He's a good grandson like that, Osamu supposes. Osamu lets himself be selfish and leans into Kita-san’s warmth behind him, as much as he can without it being too obvious.

Breakfast is boisterous, when Osamu and the Kitas come out to serve the rest of it. The boys all greet Yumie-san enthusiastically, and Kita-san actually chuckles as his team falls over themselves to bow politely at the grandmother they’ve all heard about. It feels a little like breakfast at training camp, and it’s a comfortable affair to start what’s looking to be a long day. The entire starting team made it, as well as some first years and a couple of the second years that Kita-san tutored in the locker room a few weeks ago. There's twelve of them in total, which Kita confirms is about as much as his bedroom, his little brother’s room, and the living room can collectively hold for sleeping arrangements. Osamu knows the third years are probably gonna squeeze into Kita-san’s room, but for a moment, Osamu thinks about sleeping on Kita’s floor, and then promptly swats the thought away—that is not a helpful line of thinking right now.

They meet the rest of Kita-san’s immediate family and the farmhands they employ, all of them trickling in and grabbing food as well. The atmosphere is lively in a way Osamu never would have guessed Kita-san’s home is like. Then again, their captain serves as a steady point in all the chaos here the same way he does in the gym and on the court, so maybe Osamu shouldn’t be too surprised.

Kita-san’s mother, Yuuka, is much the same, holding her head up in a dignified way, her gaze heavy and her atmosphere calm and still—Kita must have gotten it from her, the way his every word counts. By contrast, his two siblings and his father are animated people: his little brother Yuusuke effortlessly keeping up with Tsumu’s high energy, his older sister Himari teasing Aran-kun and smacking his back with the ease of familiarity, his father Shinji laughing brightly at something Sunarin is showing the man on his phone—probably one of the twins’ many fights he has documented. And Kita’s grandma watches, content, in between people coming up to talk to her about this or that.

The day is a long one, but the work is satisfying. It turns out that, while the biggest task of the day is the ducks, it isn’t the only task, so the boys get split up to help in different parts of the farm. Osamu and Ginjima still get put on duck duty, because Osamu had been the one to ask and he’d mentioned Gin when he did. Akagi-san gets grouped with them as well, Kita-san volun-telling his friend to go with them in a way that has Osamu wondering if Kita’s playing wingman, somehow. Or maybe it’s just because Akagi likes the ducks too; he’d been the one to bring them up to Osamu and Gin in the first place, at the konbini.

After watching Shinji-san and a farmhand gather up a few ducks for an example, the three of them get pointed to a section of the rice paddies, and the rest of their day is spent wrangling the ducks in that area. Every group goes with someone who actually knows what they’re doing, and Osamu’s lucky enough that they have Kita-san with them, his top half now clad in the rest of his blue coveralls, matching the sky behind him. His shoulders stretch out the fabric and look broad, able carry the mountains and move them inch by inch with all the work he does properly every day. Osamu likes watching his back too, muscles shifting as he bends over to pick up a duck, tensed along a straight spine when he holds onto the basket they’re gathering the birds in with both hands.

The paddies are protected from predators by netting and fences, so the ducks apparently get free range the entire time they’re out there. There's a shelter in the protected areas as well, for them to rest when they want. Kita talks to them as he gathers them up—mostly successful at rounding the ducks up with just his voice—but he doesn’t use baby talk with them so Sunarin would probably be disappointed. Osamu isn’t; it’s fun to see him scold them when they don’t listen, so similar to when he and his twin get in trouble that it has Osamu laughing. Kita gives him an amused look, like he knows exactly what Osamu’s thinking and agrees.

By unspoken agreement, he and Gin decide to spend time with their respective crushes as much as possible. Their senpai don’t seem to notice as they trek through rows of rice seedlings to make sure they haven’t missed any ducks—or maybe Kita-san is wingmanning, and that’s why he doesn’t say anything when the other two wander farther away. Osamu doesn’t really want to ask and get scolded like another stray duck if he’s wrong. 

Instead, he focuses on wrangling the birds himself, and finds that most of the process is straightforward, but that the wily ones are extra wily. One even flaps its wings at him in a way that gets him splattered with mud. Kita waits to step in before helping, clearly having fun watching Osamu flail if his quiet chuckle is anything to go by. Underneath Osamu’s responding pout, he thinks again that Kita-san is lighter in these rice fields than he is anywhere else—that he really is at home, not just because of his location or the presence of his family just metres away, but because he loves what they do here.

And then his thoughts and his pout are washed away by the apologetic pat of Kita-san’s glove-clad hand to the middle of his back. It’s a quiet sorry for laughing before the hand gently pushes him forward to continue working. After that, Osamu can only think about the press of Kita’s fingers in a place so close to being possessive, yet so, so far.

They eventually meet back up with everyone else at the main farmground, and their volleyball team watches the people who actually know what they’re doing gather all the ducks in a pen. There are literally so many of them; Osamu knew intellectually that there were hundreds, but to see them all in one place still amazes him. Afterward, Shinji-san insists on taking a group photo of his middle child on their farm with his friends. The boys all shuffle in with the ducks, careful not to step on any tails or feathers, and Osamu makes a mental note to get his hands on this photo no matter what.

They go in for a late lunch that’s already prepared by Yumie-san and Yuuka-san, and then help a little more with other farm stuff and duck-sorting and whatever else they get pointed to. This time, Osamu and Gin get paired up by themselves: Akagi ends up with Oomimi as they help Yuusuke somewhere else, while Kita floats around making sure his team is alright, and directing them according to what his dad asks for. At one point he swears he sees Atsumu pestering Kita-san about something by the duck pen. It’s a little worrying, but after spending the morning watching Kita’s unruffled attitude in the face of his troublemaking team dealing with actual animals, Osamu figures whatever Tsumu’s bothering him with, Kita can more than handle it.

The day is pronounced over in the late afternoon. Even though Osamu is a starting member of a high-level high school volleyball team—an unequivocal athlete who is arguably as on top of his game as one can be in high school—he still feels aches in muscles he didn’t realize he had. It's obvious that the rest of his team feels the same, and there’s something in their captain’s face that says he is entertained by their exhaustion as he directs them to a few hoses by the fields for an initial rinse. Aran had clearly spotted the amusement on his friend’s face because he complains dramatically about Kita’s sense of humour as he leads the way to the rinse area. Osamu catches Kita’s lips twitch up at Aran’s loud grumbling in the moment before his captain turns to his dad and Oomimi to start divvying up bathroom times for actual washing. Sunarin distracts him from looking more by pushing him toward the hoses too.

“Kita-san’s been smiling a lot today,” he says absently as they walk, watching as Tsumu, already by the faucets, turns on a hose and points it directly at Aran’s face. Aran splutters and yells, his voice cracking with his surprise.

“Simp,” Rin replies, his phone coming out of his pocket to film whatever water fight is about to ensue—proven immediately wise when his camera catches Aran turning on his own hose to spray back at Tsumu, and managing to catch both Kosaku and Akagi with it along the way. Akagi then uses his libero reflexes to dive for the third and last spare hose, and all hell breaks loose.

At least after this, they can consider themselves thoroughly rinsed. Akagi even sprays Kita-san when he comes over with Oomimi to tell them to stop playing. The first and second years would have been scared shitless by this had it happened at camp or at school, but with the third years bursting out in laughter, everyone else can’t help but laugh along. Kita sighs and says, "I'll let this go once, Michinari,” and Akagi cheers. Oomimi actually ruffles Kita-san’s hair at this, teasingly condescending, and that’s when the most dumbfounding thing of all happens: Aran wordlessly hands Kita a hose like he knows what’s coming, and Kita sprays Oomimi with it.

The boys all lose their minds. Osamu maybe a little more than most, because Kita has his coveralls tied at the waist again and a white shirt, when wet, is practically transparent. Rin notices Osamu having a gay crisis in the back and says, again, “Simp.”

Osamu, who had spotted Sunarin ogling his twin when Atsumu had decided this little water fight was better handled shirtless instead of weighed down with wet fabric, replies, “Says you.” Suna just shrugs back, unapologetic. There are probably some zoomed in photos on his phone that Osamu doesn’t want to think about. Instead, he takes the moment to flick the water still dripping from his fingers at Rin, and watches in satisfaction as his friend flinches back with an aborted yelp.

Kita-san’s revenge attack against Oomimi-san is the last of it, because of course their captain would get the final word. Oomimi sighs but is clearly more interested in a real shower than in retaliation. Kita-san claps his friend on the back, tells them all how washing up is going to work, and that dinner will be ready when they’re done.

It really is like training camp: going to share a quick bath with Tsumu, Rin and Gin, changing into lounging clothes, and coming out to find their teammates around a feast. The farmhands have left for the day, leaving the Kita family with their eldest son’s animated volleyball team, but the Kitas are more than happy to have them. 

The food is filling, and he gets into another discussion with Yumie-san about their family rice, and her favourite dishes to make with it. Yuuka-san includes herself in their discussion after a while, and he ends up getting promised some recipes that he’s excited to bring home and try to make for his own family. Osamu hopes he’s smooth when he asks what Kita-san (and his siblings) like to eat best, and then makes sure to ask for those recipes too. Just ‘cuz he wants to try them with Tsumu, of course; not ‘cuz he wants to know how to make Kita-san’s favourite food or anything. Atsumu’s definitely going to enjoy the Yuuka-san-approved tofu hamburgers he’s already planning to make next weekend, so he’s not even lying.

For sleeping arrangements, the third years do indeed squeeze into Kita-san’s room with him. The three first years end up in Yuusuke’s room (Yuusuke himself bunks with Yumie-san for the night), and the six second years left squeeze onto the living room floor with the futons Kita-san told them all to bring. Atsumu tries his damndest to cuddle up to Sunarin and Rin doesn’t try to stop it, so it’s up to Osamu (and Ginjima, after Osamu drags him into it) to cockblock them because they’re in their team captain’s goddamn family home. It doesn’t matter if Tsumu says it’s “obviously just gonna be cuddling, Samu, I ain't got a death wish,” Osamu doesn’t want to sleep next to his twin and best friend being gross and in love.

There is no sneaking around as the night gets late, just faint laughter coming from the hallway where Kita-san’s and Yuusuke’s bedrooms are, and chatter among the second years that peters off as they slowly drift to sleep. Rin lets Osamu scroll through the photos he took on his phone that day, some of which do feature a shirtless Atsumu, but which are thankfully not zoomed in enough that Osamu feels the need to beat up Rin to protect his twin’s virtue or something. Osamu picks out the group photo on his phone (turns out Rin had handed it to a farmhand to take while Shinji-san was taking the main ones) to text to himself, as well as some of their water fight, some cute snapshots of the ducks in the paddies, and—well, okay, there is a candid of Kita in his wet shirt standing next to Oomimi and Aran that Osamu sends to himself too. He's a weak and horny teenager, what of it. Sunarin smirks at him when Osamu hands his phone back because he knows, the bastard.

He falls asleep with his muscles pleasantly aching and his stomach full, thinking about ducks and Kita-san and tofu hamburgers and rice, and he stays asleep the whole night.

*

He wakes up to the clatter of a door swinging on its hinges.

It’s silent in the way of early mornings, his fellow second years still sound asleep and breathing deeply. Osamu blinks a few times and sits up, rubbing his eyes, and then tries his damndest to slip out of his futon and head to the bathroom without waking Sunarin and Ginjima on either side of him.

He brushes his teeth and washes his face while he’s there, thinking he might as well do that before there’s a fight for bathroom time. When he comes back to the living room, he sees the sliding door by the table they ate around yesterday cracked open. He knows it leads to the engawa so, curiously, he peeks out and finds Kita-san sitting there, observing his family’s rice paddies in the dark of a morning so early, the sun has yet to break the day.

Kita-san is peaceful in the morning dark, the set of his shoulders relaxed. He holds a cup of tea and drinks it as he stares out into green fields and distant mountains. There's a tray beside him that holds a teapot and another cup, like he’s waiting for someone to join him.

Osamu’s heart starts to race when Kita-san turns to look at him. “Mornin’, Osamu,” he says. “Join me for tea?”

Oh. Is that cup for him?

“Mornin’.” Osamu tells himself not to be shy as he quietly opens the door just enough to slip out and closes it behind him. “Did ya know I was up?” he asks, taking a seat beside Kita-san while his captain pours tea into the spare cup and hands it to him. Osamu bows his head and thanks him, taking the ceramic in his hands and letting it warm his palms, a contrast to the cool wood of the engawa under him. It’s definitely August; the mornings have been cooling down, and in the dark before the sun comes up, it’s almost cold. Instead, Osamu is pleasantly cool in the shirt and shorts he’s wearing, and the heat of the green tea hits just right instead of being too hot.

Kita-san hums, waiting for Osamu to finish his first sip before he explains, “Saw yer futon empty when I left the kitchen, so I went back to grab another cup. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Osamu repeats quietly, and tells himself again that feeling shy won’t be helpful in conversing with Kita. It's a little difficult, when Osamu’s literally been daydreaming about a moment like this, drinking tea with Kita-san on his theoretical engawa. Except there’s no theoretical about any of this now: Osamu knows how Kita-san’s farm looks like, he’s sitting his ass on Kita’s actual engawa right now, he’s met Kita’s family and grandma and has even gotten his hands on some of their recipes (he’d given his LINE to Yuuka-san last night after they talked about food and saw photos in his inbox from her that he’d thanked her for profusely over text before he fell asleep), and now he’s holding a cup full of the blend of green tea Kita-san’s family prefers to stock in their kitchen.

And still, he wants to know more. He wants to seep in through every little crevice of Kita-san’s life, and wants Kita-san to do the same with him.

Osamu looks out into the rice paddies he’d been traipsing through yesterday morning, and finally acknowledges that his thing for Kita-san stopped being just a crush a… long time ago, probably.

But Kita-san likes someone else.

They drink in silence for an extended moment, the teapot on its tray between them, and the sky lightens ever so slowly.

“Y’know,” Kita-san says, breaking the silence. He turns the cup in his hands, looking down at it instead of his family’s paddies. “Yer brother talked to me yesterday.” Osamu thinks back to when he saw Tsumu pestering Kita about something, by the duck pen. He'd known it was pestering from the stubborn look on Atsumu’s face, but he left it alone because Kita doesn’t need any help with handling Tsumu. Now, he wonders if he should have intervened anyway.

“Did he?” Osamu asks, trying not to dread the answer.

Kita hums. “He asked me who I liked, then said he knew I liked someone, so I wasn't allowed to lie and say I didn't like anyone at all.”

Osamu switches his green tea to one hand so he can facepalm with his other one, blushing and annoyed with Tsumu. Not for the first time, he pictures becoming an axe murderer just to put his twin into the family grave early. “I’m sorry, Kita-san,” he says. "He really wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“It's fine,” Kita replies, as calm as ever. “It's not as if he was wrong. I assume you an’ Suna told him after I found y’all eavesdroppin’?”

This time, Osamu looks out at the paddies specifically to avoid Kita’s eyes. “Yeah,” he admits. “…Sorry.”

“Are ya really?” Kita asks mildly, and Osamu feels his cheeks warm even more, guilty because Kita’s right—he doesn’t mean it. In fact, he still wants to know.

He chews his lip, deliberating for only a moment before he looks straight into Kita’s eyes and says, “Alright, I'm not sorry. Did ya tell Tsumu who ya like?” Might as well take the bullheaded route, if Tsumu did it already. Osamu’s better at pulling it off without coming off an asshole, anyways.

Kita blinks at him, and then huffs. Through Osamu’s hopeful eyes, Kita looks fond about it. “No, I didn't,” he replies.

“Would ya tell me?” Osamu asks bluntly.

He’s expecting another no that matches Osamu’s bluntness, but instead, there’s a pause. Kita-san turns the cup in his hands around again, thinking hard about something as he stares down into his tea with that keen gaze of his.

Osamu watches his captain acting uncharacteristically hesitant, and starts to realize that maybe they’ve made Kita-san uncomfortable with all this. It's only now that Osamu really starts to feel sorry, but he also still wants to know—and maybe that’s not a good thing.

He'd just wanted to know because he wanted to compare himself to his crush’s crush. He’d wanted to measure himself against them and calculate if he had a chance, instead of getting his heart directly broken like Hagakure did. Easier to take the loss by finding out that Kita-san likes someone Osamu could never hope to match, let alone outdo.

But Kita-san is sitting here in the dawning light, framed by nature and the warmth of his family home, and he’s potentially uncomfortable because of an investigation carried out more or less in Osamu’s name. And Osamu thinks: Kita-san doesn’t deserve that.

If Osamu wants to know so badly whether or not he has a chance, there’s only one thing he actually needs to do.

And if it goes poorly, well—who needs memories, right?

“Kita-san,” Osamu says, before Kita reaches a decision on whatever he was thinking about. The other boy startles a little, taken out of his thoughts, but he turns to meet Osamu’s eyes. Osamu takes a deep breath, and continues, "I'm sorry if Tsumu bothered you yesterday, and I do mean that. Especially ‘cuz it’s… kinda my fault.”

Kita tilts his head, curious. “What do ya mean?”

Even though his heart thuds and his face flushes, palms going sweaty from more than just the cup of tea he holds, he keeps looking Kita-san straight in the eyes. Holds his gaze, making sure nothing on his face is hidden.

“I like ya,” he says, as plain as can be. “He was sussin’ out who you have a crush on because I have a crush on you, and he thought it would be a good idea to be nosy on my behalf.” He clears his throat, and because he can’t help it, he adds, “Not that I asked him to. He's also just a nosy asshole in general, so…”

Kita blinks at him, and then blinks again, his mouth dropping open in what must be blatant shock from his normally impassive captain.

And then Kita-san laughs.

Not just an amused huff or a small chuckle, but an outright laugh—teeth showing, eyes squinting closed, cheeks turning a very cute pink.

Osamu blushes some more. Is it that funny to call Atsumu a nosy asshole when it’s just the truth? He's not laughing at Osamu’s confession, is he?

“Osamu,” Kita-san says, calming down. His cheeks are still pink, and his laugh lingers in the upturned corners of his mouth and the sweetness curving eyes. “It’s you.”

It’s Osamu that blinks this time, not computing. “What?”

“The person I like,” Kita says. “It’s you.”

Osamu stares at him dumbly. “I—” he starts, and then stops. “Y’mean…” Him? “Me?” What? “Like—huh?”

“Yes,” Kita-san replies, and his cheeks are still pink, and is that because he’s blushing? Like, actually blushing? ‘Cuz he’s shy? Holy shit. Kita’s actual expression has returned to his usual blank face but there’s no mistaking the blush, and he turns the teacup in his hands again. Is this what nervousness looks like on Kita-san?

“I wasn't… planning on tellin’ ya, originally,” he continues. “I thought maybe mentioning it in front of you and Suna would be the closest I'd get to a confession, and…” He scratches at his cheek with an index finger. Sheepish? “Honestly, I thought it’d be funny. Y'all're always so surprised by every little personal thing ya learn about me. I didn’t think it’d become a whole thing, with y’all askin’ the guys who I like an’ all. I didn't realize you second years were that curious about me.”

There’s so much rushing through Osamu’s head at the moment that it’s become a cacophony in there (Kita-san likes him! Kita-san’s shy! Kita-san’s blushing and it’s so pretty! KitasanKitasanKitasan—), but even through that noise, Osamu has a distant thought to spare that Kita’s obliviousness over Sunarin’s dedicated hunt for their captain’s gaps might, ironically, be its own kind of gap. Not that he’ll ever tell Rin about this.

“It's ‘cuz yer a mystery, Captain,” Osamu says, ignoring the commotion in his own head. “Like, why didn’t ya wanna confess to me? Did ya think it was one-sided?”

“I did,” Kita says. “I’d been aware of you and Suna even before I started likin’ ya, and figured after he started dating Atsumu that I probably wasn’t yer type,” he says, and—wait. That had been Osamu’s logic the entire time they’d been trying to figure out Kita’s crush. Hearing it from his crush’s mouth now, he has no choice but to face how flawed his thinking had really been. 

Oops.

“You'd need more than one other person to figure out my type,” Osamu says, a counterpoint to his logic that he’d been intentionally avoiding.

“Yer right,” Kita-san acknowledges, nodding. “That's the reason I thought it’d be one-sided, but the reason I didn't want to confess is because… Well, it wouldn’t be very proper, would it?”

Osamu frowns. “Why wouldn't it be?”

Kita replies pretty quick. “First off: I'm yer captain. If I confessed first, I'd always worry that you only went along with it because ya felt pressured by my leadership position on the team, and I also didn’t want ya to feel weird about it in practice if ya turned me down,” he says. It's a response so immediate and sure, it sounds like maybe he practiced it—like he’s reasoned this out with other people before. “Second, I'm in my third year. I'm graduatin’ soon, and you’ll still have a year of school left. It doesn’t seem stable to start datin’ ya like that, especially ‘cuz I dunno what you’ll be doin’ after school, and I didn’t want ya to feel tied down to someone who plans on stayin’ in Hyōgo his whole life.”

Osamu’s mouth falls open. “You—ya don’t think I'll go pro after high school?”

Kita seems slightly thrown by the question, completely unrelated to his feelings as it is, but he takes it in stride as he does everything else. “Ya could if ya want to. You’ve definitely got the skills,” he says, in the same voice he uses to point out strengths and weaknesses for volleyball. Forthright—not with honesty, but with certainty. He’s sure Osamu could make it. “But I'm just sayin’, in case ya don’t want to. You’ve got years to decide, still.” He’s just leaving it open because he’s not sure Osamu wants to make it.

“Oh,” Osamu breathes, struck by the existence of someone who isn’t expecting him to continue volleyball after high school, treating his future like it’s a foregone conclusion to go pro with Tsumu and be a matched set with his twin forever. It isn't one, and Kita-san is sitting here and giving him that allowance and validation without even trying to.

Kita waits for Osamu to say something else, patient and with his head tilted to the side. When Osamu remains silent, he eventually takes that as his cue to continue. “Well, then. For third…” he sighs. “People always say high school relationships don’t last, and people aren’t always right, but I thought maybe I'd hedge my bets anyways an’ wait to see if we’d be more viable after high school instead—‘cuz I'd want it to last, if ya said yes.” The pink still high on his cheeks spreads down his neck and out to his ears. Osamu kind of wants to bite them, and woah Samu, calm down.

“What if I didn't want ya after high school?” Osamu asks instead.

Kita shrugs. “If ya rejected me, or started datin’ someone else before I got to ya, then I'd hold onto ya like a good high school memory and move on. But I’d’ve checked first to make sure.”

“That would’a sucked though, if I missed out on you,” Osamu can’t help but point out. “Especially ‘cuz I like ya right now. I would’ve hated finding out later that we could’a had something now, and just… didn’t.”

Kita-san puts the cup he’d been turning over and over back down onto the tray between them, and leans an elbow on his knee, chin propped up on the heel of his hand. “Then maybe I'm glad this happened,” he replies, his eyes as candid as ever, even through his blush. “I’m still concerned about my bein’ yer captain, though, and I do think my other points still hold water. Otherwise, I would’a confessed a long time ago.”

“Yer so proper,” Osamu says, borderline whiny. “Does it really matter if yer my captain?” At Kita’s silent and prolonged stare, he folds immediately. It’s practically ingrained at this point to capitulate to The Look. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I get it.”

“See?” Kita replies, smiling ruefully. “There’s a level of authority I have as yer captain that I don't want influencin’ ya when it comes to bein’ my boyfriend,” he says, more gentle than the blunt way he usually doles out his rationales.

“Yer too mature, Kita-san,” Osamu pouts, even as my boyfriend echoes in his head over and over and over, drowning out that earlier cacophony. “I don't think I’ll wanna break up with you, but… We can wait, if that’ll make ya more comfortable.”

Kita-san looks surprised at this. “Ya wouldn’t mind?”

Osamu chews on his bottom lip and puts his now-cool cup of tea in the tray beside Kita’s, thinking. “I mean, I would mind a little,” he says, “but I see what’cha mean about the captain stuff. You can be scary sometimes when we do somethin' stupid, and I don't wanna feel like I did something wrong as yer—as yer boyfriend whenever ya scold me on court as a player. Sounds like a bad time.”

“I also don’t wanna worry about havin’ to put my foot down with ya, when I'm just doin’ my job and lookin’ out for the team,” Kita adds.

“Yeah…” Osamu says, and then pushes his lips out, pouting again. “But. I also wanna date ya right now, and like,” he clears his throat, “hold yer hand an’ stuff.” He quiets, bashfulness reducing him to near-mumbling. “…And kiss ya. That’d be nice.”

There’s a pause so long, Osamu starts to fidget, wishing he’d kept his cup in his hands. He drums his fingers on his thighs, looking up toward the sky and realizing that it’s light enough now that the sunrise must be imminent. Or maybe it’s already here? He's not sure if this engawa is facing more toward the east or the west; maybe the sun’s already up high on the other side of the house…

A sigh from Kita-san and the sounds of a body shifting next to him pull him back into the moment. Osamu turns back to him and thinks, This is it. They both like each other, but now he’s gonna find out what that actually means for them.

He finds Kita looking at him with a soft smile on his face, one of his knees drawn up so that he can lean his face against it. “That’s a good point,” he says.

“What is?” Osamu asks, not quite sure what to do with himself in the face of Kita-san’s sudden gentleness. “The—the kissin’ ya point?”

“Mhm,” Kita-san agrees, smile widening a little, that cute pink coming back to his face. "Aran said once that if it makes ya happy then it makes ya happy, and that’s fine. And y’know… Holdin’ yer hand right now would make me happy.” He slides the tray between them farther back, and then stretches that same hand out toward Osamu, palm up. Osamu can hardly believe it when he places his own hand in that palm and finds it a little sweaty. Sometimes Kita-san doesn’t seem real—and this moment definitely doesn’t seem real at all—but the sweat on not just Osamu’s palm but Kita’s challenges that in a way that grounds Osamu.

This is real.

Kita-san is real.

Kita raises his head from his knee and turns more toward Osamu, lifts their joined hands toward his mouth and very lightly presses a kiss to the back of Osamu’s hand. Osamu’s face feels like it’s on fire as Kita says, “Kissin’ ya would make me happy too.” And he does look happy. His mouth is still obscured by their hands, but Osamu swears he feels a smile pressed against the thin skin at the back of his hand, and Osamu’s brain is melting. There’s a rapid pounding in his chest like hammers on his mochigome heart, hand-turned by Kita-san himself after every hit of that wooden hammer until it becomes actual mochi. When it does, he thinks he’d still give it to Kita in the hopes he’d taste sweet.

“Then kiss me,” Osamu says, his voice coming out stronger than he feels.

“Okay,” Kita murmurs, keeping Osamu’s hand in his but placing his free one on Osamu’s shoulder before tilting his head and leaning in.

Kita-san is tentative, his lips still a bit wet from his tea, and warm as they press against Osamu’s. After another moment of Kita’s careful kiss, Osamu realizes maybe this is another private gap—that Kita-san might not go around kissing a lot of people, if any people at all. That this may well be his first.

Osamu takes the lead then, untangling his hand from Kita’s so he can press it against the curve of his jaw to better position his face, leans in at a more comfortable angle, and opens his mouth a little more. Kita-san makes a noise that Osamu wants to swallow whole, his lips going pliant under Osamu’s, but Osamu keeps it chaste and pulls away after another moment.

Kita is flushed red, and Osamu thinks again about biting. Kita’s eyes stay closed for a moment longer before they flutter open, and when they do, his gaze goes straight to Osamu’s mouth, a little dazed.

“That was nice,” Kita says quietly. On the inside, Osamu preens.

“We should do it again,” Osamu suggests, more comfortable this close to Kita-san than he’s ever been before. The kiss restored his confidence, balanced something that felt unbalanced, and still left Osamu wanting more. And now that he’s been allowed that one taste—well. Of course he only finds himself hungrier. That's how it always goes.

Kita-san tips his head forward like he’s going to do it again right away, but then he pauses, and his eyes dart to his right, where the engawa doors are. Osamu follows his gaze and finds it open a crack.

Didn’t he close it?

Osamu frowns, suspicious, and Kita moves out of his personal space. He takes his hands with him, unfortunately.

“I wanna finish talkin’ about this with ya before we do any more kissin’,” Kita says, and Osamu’s frown turns back into a pout. Kita only stares at him with that frank gaze of his, and Osamu wonders why the blush on his cheeks doesn’t undercut The Look in any way. In fact, Osamu thinks maybe Kita’s a little hotter like that, and that’s just not fair. “I wanna do this right, Osamu,” Kita continues. “It’s why I wasn't gonna mention anythin’ in the first place, but now that we’re here, I wanna make sure I treat ya properly and we handle this with care. You deserve that.”

Osamu, absurdly, feels like a blushing maiden being proposed a courtship. Though, on second thought, perhaps he isn’t that far off with his analogy. Kita-san is certainly determined to be a gentleman about all this, and Osamu doesn’t hate it.

Actually, Osamu kind of likes it. A lot. It makes him feel safe and important and valued—secure. It’s nice.

They hash out what probably needs the most communication—namely, any discomfort or hurt feelings surrounding volleyball and how their relationship (relationship!) is being affected by it—and they talk about what dating might look like when Kita’s graduated and Osamu’s still in high school. Kita says they’ll check in again when Osamu’s the one graduating, and Osamu is relieved he won’t have to admit to anyone yet that maybe volleyball isn’t what he’ll be doing. He’s still not completely sure, the dream of representing Japan right beside Atsumu still attractive to him, but the shine is waning in a way that he simply cannot confront at this time, so he’s glad he doesn’t have to. The freedom he feels when Kita reiterates once more that he’s leaving space for whatever it is Osamu decides, pro-athlete or not, leaves its mark all the same.

When all their immediate worries are laid to rest for the time being, Kita-san does actually lean back in to share a few more kisses with him. Osamu savours every single one, and when they pull back, arms still around each other and sides pressed together on Kita-san’s (no longer theoretical) engawa, the sun’s fully risen and the day is as beautiful as can be. Kita-san is resplendent in the morning light (shining down on the engawa that is apparently placed more east than west after all), his lips redder than they had been from the kisses Osamu left there, and he leans down to rest his head on Osamu’s shoulder with a sigh.

Osamu kisses his temple and grins at the new day. In the distance, he hears the clamour of hundreds of ducks quacking in their shared pen, and he thinks this is way better than any daydream could ever be.

Kita-san likes him.

Kita-san likes him.

Kita-san likes him!

What a day to be alive.

*

When they finally head back inside, Osamu slides the engawa door open and almost trips over a chair situated directly in front of it.

Confused, he steps around it and finds a paper taped to the front of it in his twin’s uniquely shitty writing, saying, Confession in progress! Don’t interrupt!!!!!!!!

The floaty feeling from having his feelings requited abruptly disappears in favour of the vein bursting in his forehead. “Tsumu!” he yells angrily, and then jumps two feet in the air when what follows isn’t his twin’s scream, but rather some amused chuckles from ahead of him. He finally notices Yumie-san and Oomimi-san drinking tea together at the table they’d eaten at last night. Osamu blushes, caught out, and then blushes worse when Kita-san steps up close behind him and places a hand on the small of his back, supporting him emotionally and stopping him from retreating backward all at once. It’s the possessive gesture he was wishing for yesterday, and something behind his embarrassment purrs, quietly pleased.

“I believe a congratulations are in order?” Yumie-san asks.

“Yep,” Kita replies from behind him. He sounds openly pleased, and Osamu turns his head to see Kita-san’s expression. He’s smiling wide, and definitely pleased. Hell yeah.

“Ya told him after all,” Oomimi says, and oh, Oomimi knew. He thinks Kita-san might have mentioned it earlier, but it only sinks in now: the entire time the second years bothered the third years about who Kita-san liked, they knew it had been Osamu all along.

Oh, man. How embarrassing.

“He told me first, actually,” Kita says, the hand on his lower back patting him in a way that has Osamu thinking—things.

His mind is frenetic, having a hard time staying focused when it’s overwhelmed with his new boyfriend and people knowing right away and people having known all along that Kita-san liked him, overshadowed by his annoyance with his brother. Confession in progress. Nosy bastard. Aware that that shouldn’t be the priority here, and struggling more for it. His head keeps ping-ponging between several thoughts and emotions, making him dizzy—but that also might just be his heart going way too hard and making him light-headed.

“Good for you,” Oomimi says, bringing Osamu back a little when he looks at Osamu next and adds, “For ya both.”

Everything in Osamu’s head suddenly, thankfully, quiets in favour of the need to look good in front of his boyfriend's close friend and his grandmother. He bows. “Thank you!” he says, and when he straightens back up, "I'm happy to have him. I’ll take care’a him, I promise!”

Yumie-san and Oomimi laugh again. “I’m not his father, Osamu,” Oomimi says.

“But if yer lookin’ to ask permission, Shinji-kun is out front,” Yumie-san adds.

He wasn’t, but… Should he? Is he supposed to—

Kita-san steps out from behind him and catches his eye so Osamu knows he’s serious when he says, “They’re teasin’ ya. My parents ain’t expectin’ anything like that, and I'd actually rather ya didn’t, so.”

Osamu exhales. “Right, thanks.”

“And don’t beat up yer brother too much,” Kita adds. “I didn't tell him who I liked yesterday, but he definitely knew it was you ‘cuz he tried to give me some sort’a shovel talk anyway.”

“Tsumu,” Osamu groans, burying his face in his hands.

“It was sweet,” Kita says. “I'm sure ya did the same thing with Suna.”

Well, he tried, but… “Sunarin’s impossible to threaten,” Osamu admits. “He’s got a lot of blackmail on his phone.”

“That sounds like him,” Oomimi says, amused, and Osamu remembers there are other people in the room.

“It is,” Osamu confirms with a sigh, and then he shakes his head. “Anyways. Good mornin’, Oomimi-san, Baa-chan. If ya don’t mind, I’m gonna go murder my brother now. Excuse me.” He turns and ducks down to kiss Kita’s cheek and squeeze his arm goodbye, and then he heads out. Behind him, he hears Oomimi and Yumie-san start laughing for a third time, but he doesn’t look back to check why.

He has fratricide to commit, after all, and there's no time like the present.

*

(On the way back home, Osamu receives a photo from Sunarin, depicting Osamu and Kita-san from the back, drinking tea together on the engawa. The sky is still that dark pre-dawn blue, and they’re framed by what are obviously the sliding doors.

Stalker, Osamu texts back, and saves the photo to his own phone.

Rin’s reply is another photo: a selfie this time, of Rin and Tsumu making peace signs in front of the Confession in progress! sign, Osamu’s dyed grey hair barely visible in the crack of the doorway behind them. Rin’s face is as expressionless as it always is, and Tsumu’s grin is megawatt and shit-eating.

Osamu replies with a middle finger emoji, and then saves that photo too.)

*

The two of them make it through the rest of the school year. Not without their rough patches, of course, but dating Kita-san is worth it.

They have a pretty serious fight the day Tsumu gets sent home from practice with a care package, since it leaves Osamu feeling like that was more care than he’d seen from Kita since they’d started dating and it was toward his twin. In return, Kita realizes he was maybe overcompensating on not showing too much bias toward his boyfriend during team practices. He eventually gets better at being more objective though, especially after he asks Aran to keep an extra eye out, and to offer his perspective when needed.

Kita also ends up having to talk with Osamu about how Osamu needs to stop putting him on a pedestal when they spend time alone. In those moments, Kita isn’t his captain or his senpai—just a guy that likes Osamu, doesn’t have all the answers, and who will definitely mess up, even though he tries his best every day not to. Osamu also remembers then—when that talk ends and Kita’s hands waver where they rest on Osamu’s chest, his mouth once again uncertain during the makeup kiss he leans up to take—that Osamu’s got more experience in at least this one thing, if not several others they just haven't discovered yet. He can’t always assume Kita-san will know better, or that he will know what to do at all. They're equals in this, and Kita-san wants that. Osamu matters to him that way.

Gone is Mister Perfect No-Gaps Kita. Instead there is Shinsuke, who kisses a little too hard when he’s nervous, whose palms sweat and who has bad breath before he brushes his teeth, who has an inscrutable sense of humour and who can’t keep up his iron face when Osamu pokes at his sides, because he’s surprisingly ticklish.

And these gaps are all for Osamu. Sunarin can keep his ongoing quest all to himself—Osamu will never tell.

Still, when it comes to volleyball, Kita-san’s as scary as ever. After the whole fight surrounding Tsumu’s care package, Osamu actually starts managing to separate his boyfriend from his captain successfully. He even starts finding that it spurs him on to have Kita on the court and wanting to look good for him, to be good for him.

He's excited about heading to Spring Nationals for Kita-san’s final tournament of his high school volleyball career, and gutted when they only get to play the one game.

It’s a good game—a great game, even. Gods, it’s actually some of the best volleyball he's ever played, even if his stupid brother gets so worked up over Karasuno’s freak duo that Osamu gets mad about it. Annoyed enough that he doesn’t realize Tsumu’s cast a lure with Osamu on the hook until he spikes and there’s no ball, the asshole having baited him into being bait. Fucker. Osamu’s not the only one played, since Rin starts to look pissed about where Atsumu’s attention is going too, but at least there, Tsumu’s annoyed in return with whatever glaring matches Suna keeps getting into at the net with that tall glasses kid.

In the stairwell, Kita-san says it’s not every day you get to play a match like that, and he’s right, but they only got to play the one game. He didn’t realize that match was going to be the last one ever with this team—with Aran as their ace, Akagi as their libero, and Kita-san at their helm. He wanted Kita as his captain for longer, and when Kita says he wanted to brag about his teammates a little more, the tears start flowing down everyone’s faces. He and Tsumu vow to be kouhai Kita-san can brag about in the future, and Osamu has every intention to make that come true, no matter where their lives take them.

They spend time with their own friends that night instead of each other, crying and debriefing in their hotel rooms after dinner, but in the morning he and Shinsuke have a little date around Tokyo before going in to watch more matches. Atsumu and Sunarin go off on their own too, as well as Ginjima and Akagi-san who aren’t dating, but Osamu’s placed his bet that they will be by the time they get back to the stadium. Aran-kun and Oomimi-san just go to the stadium right away. When Osamu remarks on this to Shinsuke, his boyfriend’s mouth tilts up at the corners and he mentions that Aran seemed interested in Karasuno’s ace yesterday, so he’s probably gonna watch their morning game against Nekoma.

Osamu is equal parts delighted that Shinsuke is actually gossiping with him, and baffled because the only things he remembers about Karasuno’s ace are that he’s tall, has samurai hair, and that when he goes up to serve, he looks like he’s about to engage in tsujigiri and kill them all at a crossroads with the ball instead of a katana. But maybe Aran finds that hot? Shinsuke reads his thoughts on his face and explains that they actually bumped into Karasuno’s third years when they were seeing Yumie-san off last night, and their ace—Azumane-san—is actually very timid off the court.

"Aran seems quite taken with him,” Shinsuke says. “Since he and the others campaigned so hard to get me to confess to you, I figured I should return the favour, so me an’ Ren strong-armed him to go watch Karasuno this morning. Ren’s currently workin’ on hypin’ Aran up to ask for Azumane-san’s number.”

Osamu chuckles. “I almost wish we went to the stadium now. I wanna see Aran-kun all embarrassed.”

“I doubt he’ll be any different this afternoon,” Shinsuke replies, swinging their joined hands. “Besides, I wanted time with ya in Tokyo. Did ya find that chicken place ya wanted to check out?”

Osamu double-checks the directions on his phone and grins. “Should be just around the corner.”

“Yer cute about food,” Shinsuke says, smiling back at him. Osamu kisses him for that, but it’s short because they’re in public and he’s hungry.

In the afternoon, after smugly taking money from his twin because Gin and Akagi come to their group meetup spot holding hands, Osamu brings up Azumane-san to Aran in front of Tsumu and Sunarin just to laugh at the way he flusters. Aran-kun is kind of his and Tsumu’s pseudo older brother at this point, and it’s his duty as a younger sibling to make fun of him about this. It turns out Karasuno won against Nekoma in what was apparently a very long game full of very long rallies. Oomimi says he’s not sure how they would have done against Nekoma, because the cats are persistent and patient, and their own team isn’t always the best with long-game traps. Sunarin in particular makes a face at that, no doubt remembering Glasses from yesterday fucking up his cross shots in the last set. 

Rin’s face gets worse when Oomimi then mentions that Karasuno’s Shrimpy somehow gained the ability to consistently use that higher jump he’d been experimenting with yesterday when he completely forgot to spike the ball, and Atsumu’s eyes start to sparkle. He'd feel worse for Sunarin, had his best friend not spent the past year being gross with his brother right in front of Osamu’s food. The only mercy he allows is giving Rin some space to cool off by dragging Tsumu to go watch Karasuno’s next game at a vantage point where they can see the whole court, the way he knows Tsumu likes it best.

Osamu’s thinking about making onigiri with his ma next weekend when Kita-san finds them by their second floor lookout, eventually settling on Atsumu’s other side in what is probably a silent reassurance toward his twin that he isn’t there to make Atsumu a third wheel. Osamu is of the opinion that Atsumu can stand to be the third wheel every once in a while, but he guesses Shinsuke’s just kind like that.

While they watch, Kita laughs a few times, openly delighted by Karasuno’s plays. It has Osamu wondering if this might have been how he’s felt about the twins’ plays all along, and he’d just kept it to himself until now. He even says Karasuno has guys like them, that they’d found opponents who could match the high level energy he and Tsumu work themselves into that usually leaves the rest of Inarizaki in the dust. Maybe behind his serious captain face and diligent rituals, he’s been having this much fun watching Osamu and his twin playing volleyball this whole time. And maybe, with his last ever game over with, his captain’s mantle has finally started to loosen up a bit and he doesn’t feel the need to keep his fun under wraps like he had been. It’s not like he needs to analyze gameplay or be strict with them anymore—Kita-san’s done with all that now.

The wound of only having been able to play that one last game with Shinsuke yesterday is still fresh, but Osamu’s always content to watch his boyfriend relax and enjoy himself.

Karasuno loses, in the end. Kita-san verbally corners Atsumu about whether or not losing means the third years did this all for nothing (a question that has Osamu sweating, even though it was his brother that had been asked), and then Kita says something about doing things properly every day to grow and strengthen their bodies—that it’s okay if he didn’t win because he did build a whole lotta muscle.

“The world can throw anything it wants at me now—I ain’t afraid,” Kita concludes, smiling with a lax sort of contentment Osamu hasn’t seen on him outside either of their homes before. He and Atsumu watch Kita-san leave, and he does it with a bit of a spring in his step, evidently pleased to be using all those muscles he’s built day-by-day to walk away.

He's a scary one, his Shinsuke. So self-assured because he makes the effort to do everything properly, so confident in the fact that doing things right is what matters regardless of the results they yield. So dedicated to the every day.

Kita can call them monsters all he likes; Osamu thinks that Shinsuke’s consistency toward the proper way of doing things—so consistent that it’s become not just a ritual but a habit—makes him the most monstrous of them all.

“…The world can throw anything it wants at me,” Osamu eventually says, when Kita’s starlight hair disappears into the crowd. “I'll still be afraid of Kita-san.” It comes out intimidated, yes, but also maybe a little horny, if the warmth in his cheeks tells him anything.

Tsumu nods absent-mindedly in agreement, looking just as intimidated by their captain as Osamu, but then the nuance in his twin’s tone seems to properly register and he turns to give Osamu a disgusted face.

“Ew, keep that shit away from me,” Tsumu says. “I don't need to know what yer into.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Ya didn’t have to.”

“Shut up! I didn’t say anything, but if I did, you’d only deserve it anyways. You an’ Sunarin are a hundred times worse!”

“At least Rin’s not your captain—”

They start kicking at each other and grabbing at each others’ jacket and hair, fists raised and aiming anywhere that will hurt, and they only stop when a whistle blows below them and a murmur runs through the crowd—

Itachiyama’s just lost their game too.

The twins and Kita had seen Iizuna go down earlier, but still. It’s surprising it cost them the match, when the powerhouse team is pretty strong overall.

If Osamu squints, he can just about see the dark head of curly hair on top of highlighter yellow that is the current number one high school volleyball spiker Sakusa Kiyoomi, trailing after his injured captain and the two guys supporting his weight as they walk. The set of his shoulders makes him look a little lost to Osamu, from all the way up here. Osamu gets it; he’s been feeling a little lost himself when he’s on the court these days. Not when he’s playing—it’s easy to focus when there’s a game going on—but when he’s stretching by himself after practice, or supervising Tsumu so he doesn’t overwork himself. At those times, Osamu feels… out of place. 

Sakusa, and Iizuna, Karasuno's Shrimpy and even his idiot twin—they did everything right, and they still lost. The world threw some shit at them that they couldn't take without their knees buckling, and they fell to the ground, defeated.

But… They did build a whole lotta muscle.

And with those newer, stronger muscles, they’re gonna get right back up and keep playing, eternally hungry for volleyball.

What is Osamu hungry for?

*

(The answer, when it finally hits him, is one he thinks he should have known all along:

Onigiri.)

*

Osamu opens Onigiri Miya when he’s twenty-two, as soon as he’s finished college and saved up enough to rent a small shop (with some generous help from his parents and—surprising Osamu but not the rest of their friends—his brother. Tsumu loans him a not-insignificant amount of his pro-athlete paycheques and says he better be able to eat there free for life. Osamu pretends he isn’t grateful because that’s how they work, but half the menu was informed by his twin anyways, catered to what he knows Tsumu likes. Tsumu’s been getting the same free food from Osamu their whole lives, and he wasn’t gonna start making Atsumu pay now, restaurant loan or not. But Tsumu doesn’t need to know that either).

His rice supplier is none other than his high school sweetheart, who blushes prettily when Osamu refers to their farm-to-restaurant pipeline as a family venture, but who notably never actually refutes him. Actually, Shinsuke always looks pleased when he says it, that pretty pink staining his cheeks, and it often leaves Osamu wondering if Kita Osamu or Miya Shinsuke sounds better. If it was down to branding then Shin would have to take on Miya. The Kita family rice is called Proper Hyōgo Rice but Osamu’s restaurant is Onigiri Miya, emphasis on the Miya. There’s an implication there that there should be a Miya working the restaurant, but Shin’s rice will still be rice that is properly grown in Hyōgo regardless of whether or not the people growing it are Kitas, so.

(Plus, he’s a little—just a tad! Just a smidge!—sentimental about being one of two in the package deal that is the Miya Twins. They’re still referred to occasionally as a unit in news articles and social media, despite their divergent career paths. If Atsumu ever decides to take Sunarin’s last name and becomes Suna Atsumu—which sounds way stupider than Miya Rintarou, by the way—then Osamu will pre-empt that decision by making himself the singular Miya son via murder before Atsumu can do it via surname change. Though he’s not sure those two will ever marry anyway; they seem happy as-is.)

Anyways, Osamu likes to stock up arguments for getting Shinsuke to take Miya, preparing them for their future marriage conversation. He knows they’ll have one, because Shinsuke loves to do things properly and that means obtaining the marriage certificate, doing the traditional wedding customs, and making Yumie-san happy. She's been talking about Shinsuke getting married in general since before they started dating, and has only doubled down about getting married to specifically Osamu since she congratulated them on their new relationship, getting more and more keen with every year they’ve been together. 

They're going at a pace that feels right for them, but Osamu is looking forward to it, when the day comes.

For now, he makes onigiri and sells them at every MSBY Black Jackals game, a few EJP Raijin and Tachibana Red Falcons games, and at his home location in Higashioka, close to MSBY’s home gym.

(He's even sufficiently trained Atsumu into caring about the new rice of the year, but he doesn’t have the last laugh about it—he’s just happy his twin cares, and that Shinsuke’s rice and Osamu’s food work to actively help him figure out his crazy combo serve. They're mature like that now; Osamu saves his teasing about how his new serve is actually all thanks to Osamu for after Atsumu starts consistently nailing it.)

And every week, he waits for his very handsome and very fit rice supplier to come in and deliver rice from less than an hour’s drive away.

This summer, Hinata's little sister is visiting for her break and staying in her brother’s dorm room. She’s gotten into the habit of hanging out at Onigiri Miya to do her homework when she doesn’t want to be distracted by observing the Jackals’ training. She was there for the last two rice deliveries, and when she sees Shinsuke come in for the third week in a row, she calls him over to where she’s sitting.

Osamu keeps an ear out while he wipes down the tables. There's a lull in service every day around this time, mid-morning not an overly popular time for onigiri purchasing. It’s a sweet spot perfect for breaks, situated between the breakfast and lunch rushes. Shinsuke often aims for this time so he can help stock all the new rice in the pantry and then they can flirt all they want behind the counter without an audience peering at them, as the shop is usually empty.

These last two weeks with Natsu have been less of that, not because they care about her being there but because the farm’s been suddenly understaffed, three of their employees coming down with the same bug, and Himari a little too pregnant to swoop in and help. Shinsuke’s deliveries have mostly involved dropping off the rice, sneaking in a few kisses and a long hug in the pantry, and then quickly taking leave again to rush back to the farm. They say goodbye with longing looks each time, even though one of them will find himself in the other's bed once the weekend comes along.

Still, Osamu’s a sap who misses his boyfriend, so he waits, Natsu observes, and Shinsuke gets summoned over to her little homework den the next time he comes bearing rice.

“Rice Guy-san,” she says, with an air to it that suddenly throws Osamu back to when he was sixteen, the age that she is now. “Are you dating anyone?”

Shinsuke blinks at her, nonplussed. He pauses, and then says, “Sorry, Miss, but yer too young to be askin’ folks my age a question like that.”

Osamu holds back a snort of laughter as Natsu turns red enough to clash with her tangerine hair. “Not for me,” she says, flustered. “I just—I wanted to know if you liked anyone for my friend!”

“Yer friends are also too young to—”

“No, wait,” she interrupts. “He's old, I promise. And he likes you, I'm sure of it, so just—are you attached or not? Come on, Rice Guy-san.”

Shin gives her a bewildered look—not obvious to anyone who might not know him well, but obvious to Osamu, who is intimately familiar with the angle of his brows and the tilt of his head. He glances at Osamu, and Osamu gives him a bemused look and shrugs back. He’d wonder if Natsu might be referring to someone on the Jackals, but even if she were, nothing will ever change the fact that Shinsuke likes him, so he’s not worried.

“Well,” Shinsuke says eventually. “Sorry to yer… friend, but I do already have someone I like.” He bows his head in small apology.

Natsu pouts, and then glances at Osamu too, for some reason. “…Who is it?” Natsu asks, returning her gaze to Shinsuke.

“Maybe I don’t wanna say when there’s someone eavesdroppin’,” Shinsuke replies, tipping his head toward where Osamu stands at the counter. Osamu snorts; he’s clearly not even trying to hide, openly listening to everything they’re saying from a few metres away. Eavesdroppin’ his foot. “Besides, I don't even know yer name, and ya don’t know mine.” He stares down at her, oppressive. “Is this polite conversation for strangers?”

Osamu grins when Natsu flinches and straightens up under Shinsuke’s assessing gaze, shaking her head left and right. “N-no, Sir,” she stutters out. “Sorry, Sir.” It’s nostalgic to see his captain scolding someone—though maybe nostalgic is the wrong word when Shinsuke still brings out The Look every time the old Inarizaki team gets together at Onigiri Miya and they get a little too loud. And it’s not like his heavy presence has waned at all, years later. Maybe it’s more accurate to say Osamu’s never not gonna find his captain hot as fuck.

Shinsuke gives it a moment to let her guilt settle before he nods. “It's fine. My name is Kita Shinsuke, by the way; not Rice Guy-san.” He does his casual little head bow again.

By contrast, Natsu bends ninety whole degrees at the hips and yells, “My name is Hinata Natsu! My brother plays on the MSBY Black Jackals and I'm here for summer break! Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet’cha too,” Shinsuke replies easily, as she straightens up. “I’ve gotta go bring my rice in for Miya-san, but if ya wanna chat afterward, I can stay for a little longer today.” And then he smiles. “Yer brother’s a great player by the way. I played him once in high school, and my team lost.”

Natsu beams. “Yeah, Nii-chan’s pretty good!” She jabs a thumb at her chest. “I’m gonna be the better Hinata though.”

Osamu bursts out laughing, and the two of them turn to him. Natsu’s pouting, likely thinking he’s laughing at her expense, so Osamu waves her off. “No, no, I believe ya,” he explains. “Was just familiar, ‘cuz y’know: I’m the better Miya.”

“Ah,” Natsu replies, understanding breaking over her face. She nods wisely. “Yes, you are. TsumTsum-san’s personality sucks.”

Osamu snorts. “Doesn't it ever.”

Shinsuke sighs, and even Osamu straightens up this time. His boyfriend shakes his head fondly. “Y’all never change,” he says. “I’ll just stock this in yer pantry then, Osamu?” He nods to where he left his cart of rice before he came over to Natsu’s table, out of the way of the entrance.

“Ah, thanks Shinsuke,” Osamu replies, his cheeks warming at the affection in his boyfriend’s gaze. “Need any help?”

“Nah, you stay and keep Natsu-chan company,” he replies, and goes to wheel his product to the back of the store. He already knows where he’s going, obviously, not just having been here every week for a personal rice delivery, but also having been a huge part of picking out the building and deciding on decor, too.

When he disappears down the hall, Natsu hops up and joins Osamu by the counter, flopping onto a bar stool. “Myaa-Sam!” she cries in a none too subtle whisper-shout. "He didn’t tell us who he likes!”

Osamu furrows his brows at her. “No, he wouldn’t,” he replies in a regular voice. “Why were you even askin’?”

“We needed to know!” she continues not-whispering. Her volume is the same as his, really.

“Why d’you keep sayin’ we?”

“We gotta figure out his type, to see if he'd date you!” Her eyes are wide, darting to where Shinsuke disappeared and back, clearly trying to keep this whole thing under wraps.

Osamu doesn’t quite care about being overheard, so his response is loud when he replies, “What?” The surprise is genuine, at least.

“You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

Osamu’s mouth drops open at Natsu’s earnest gaze. “Are ya—” he starts, stops with disbelief, and then shakes his head and starts again. “Are ya wingmanning me right now?” he scoffs. “Wait, I'm the friend? The one ya called old?”

“Well, yeah! Duh!” Natsu replies. “You have to get your cute rice guy! I think he likes you back, but we have to make sure.”

Osamu huffs out a short laugh, still feeling incredulous, and a little insulted. “Natsu-chan,” he says. “I know who he likes.”

“What! Who is it!” Natsu replies, dropping her attempt at quiet in favour of indignant. “I bet you’re cuter, Myaa-Sam! Kita-san should choose you!”

Osamu laughs again, warmed by her support despite it being slightly misguided.

Before he can reply, a strong arm snakes around his waist, and a familiar weight leans against his shoulder, peeking around so his face is fully visible even though he’s standing behind Osamu. “Yer right, Natsu-chan,” Shinsuke says, with so much gravity that he’s obviously joking. “I should choose Myaa-Sam. He’s much cuter than the person I like.”

Osamu makes a face. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

Shinsuke doesn’t reply, just presses a kiss to Osamu’s shoulder that does admittedly soften him.

Natsu gasps big. “You're already dating?!” she practically screams. He’s lucky it’s just her in the shop, as she’s loud enough for both Osamu and Shinsuke to wince. “Myaa-Sam! Why didn’t you tell me!”

“We've been together forever?” Osamu replies, rubbing at one of his ears. “He's part of the decor, y’know. Ya coulda looked a little closer at the photos—you’ve been here for weeks.” Next to the signed jerseys and framed articles about his shop, there are photos scattered around of Osamu’s family: one of the Miyas; one of Osamu, Atsumu and Rin at the farm with Shinsuke’s; one with Osamu and Yumie-san pickling plums together on their engawa; and of course one of just him and Atsumu in their 1 and 2 jerseys the day they won Spring Nationals, big grins on their faces, tears in their eyes, and the trophy between them.

There’s also two photos of Kita’s Inarizaki team—the one they took in front of the banner, and the group shot they took on that fateful duck-wrangling weekend; a few of his pro-volleyball player friends’ action shots in their uniforms or with their teams; and a candid of Osamu and Shinsuke holding hands as they walk through a rice paddy. That latter photo is right next to an empty branded bag of rice stretched out on the wall and framed like a poster, in case people want to look up the rice they’re eating and also because he’s proud of the rice he uses. It’s local to Hyōgo, y’know. The love of his life gets paid to grow it.

In the corner, there's even a TV that’s always on and playing volleyball games when it’s the season for it, and he made sure the restaurant’s colours and seats are warm and cozy. He wanted it to feel home-y for his customers, but more so for his friends, a lot of whom travel for volleyball and always make sure to stop by. It's something he intends to replicate when he eventually opens his other branches. Even without Osamu at the counter or in the kitchen, his friends can swing by and grab some of his cooking when they’re hungry, and maybe he can soothe them with his familiar decor while they’re there. A place that speaks of Osamu’s presence, not just in every bite but in every corner.

He wants the people he loves to come hungry and leave full.

It’s a dream that Osamu fits in, and he feels light with it.

“It's nosy to poke around about other people’s love lives, y’know,” Osamu tells Natsu. “Go finish yer homework.”

Natsu pouts and stands up from her bar stool at the counter. “I was gonna say that you guys are cute, but maybe you aren’t.”

“It’s too late; ya called me cuter than Shinsuke’s crush!” Osamu calls back. “I won’t forget it, Natsu-chan!”

“You're just in a competition with yourself! How embarrassing!” she replies. Osamu sticks his tongue out at her, because he is a mature adult, and Natsu huffs loudly as she plops back down at her seat. When she turns back to her books and props her head in her hand, scowling, she looks like she’s doing her homework at home.

Osamu feels satisfied with his lot in life.

Especially when Shinsuke squeezes his waist again, his delectable forearms and biceps and pecs and face all pressed up against Osamu. “Yer a li’l hypocrite,” his boyfriend states plainly, amusement colouring his voice.

Osamu turns in his arms and wraps his own around Shinsuke’s neck, looking down at him and allowing himself some flirting because it’s still just Natsu in the shop. “I got a boyfriend out of it, so what do I care?”

“Menace.”

“Heard ya have a crush on one of those,” Osamu replies, raising a brow and smirking. “Good luck.”

Shinsuke gives him a loving look back, which boots any pretense right off Osamu’s face and leaves him honest. “Don’t need any,” Shinsuke replies. “I do this all the time.” And he leans in to kiss Osamu just the way Osamu likes.

Osamu melts into it.

Shinsuke kisses him properly and right, and it’s the best damn thing in the world, every time.

Then the bell above the door jingles, and Osamu abruptly straightens up, Shinsuke immediately letting him go so they can both do their jobs. Osamu runs his fingers through his hair to give his face a moment to cool down, and Shin probably heads back to the pantry to finish putting away the new stock of rice.

Alright, so maybe Onigiri Miya, while his dream come true in technicolour flavour, isn’t quite home-home but—

(Shinsuke pecks him on the cheek and catches his hand for a light squeeze goodbye, waves to Natsu on his way out, and heads to his truck to return to his farm. Before long, Osamu will be in his arms again, and they can finish what they started.)

—he’ll be there soon.

*