Archive of Our Own

Sakusa has never been in love.

This is a fact that seems to blow Komori's mind. His cousin brings it up often enough that Sakusa has memorized the conversation by heart. Sure he's had crushes before, a small one on their former captain, Tsukasa Izuna, and briefly, on Wakatoshi Ushijima.

But it was just that. A small crush. It would last a few weeks to a few months and then he'd get over it. It would fade as quietly as it arrived, leaving behind nothing but relief.

“Maybe you need to lower your standards,” Komori had said the last time, half-teasing, half-serious.

And Sakusa had actually stopped to think about it.

Had turned the thought over carefully, the way he did everything else, searching for something unreasonable or excessive.

His standards weren’t outrageous. They were practical. Basic, even. He didn’t think it was asking too much to expect someone to wash their hands properly or not leave a mess everywhere they went.

So no, the problem wasn’t his standards. They weren’t impossible. He just hasn't found someone who matches them.

Truthfully he doubts he ever will.

—

Sakusa’s first proper conversation with Hinata Shouyou only happens once they both sign onto the MSBY Black Jackals. He’d heard about him back in high school, of course. It wasn’t easy to forget about Karasuno’s tangerine haired middle blocker who’d collapsed on the court during their final set against Kamomedai.

After the coach introduces Hinata properly, Sakusa watches the way he goes bouncing around greeting everyone. He watches the way Bokuto gives him a huge hug, yelling something about how proud he is of his number one disciple. Watches the way Atsumu follows behind him, clearly trying to get Hinata's attention on him. Watches as Hinata seems to easily make friends with Inunaki and Thomas.

And of course, because he's watching him he notices the moment Hinata seems to lock on to him. He bounces over, full of so much energy that it takes everything in Sakusa to not bolt.

But then, Hinata makes eye contact and he seems to purposely slow down. He's still as excitable and his smile hasn't changed but something in his demeanor has shifted.

“Sakusa-san! Hello! I'm Hinata Shouyou! It's great to meet you!”

Sakusa looks up from his stretch and feels like he's staring into the sun. Hinata Shouyou is just so bright.

“Mr ‘I got a fever and got benched'” Sakusa says and can't help but feel some satisfaction at seeing the way Hinata makes a face.

“Please don't say that like it's some kind of nickname now! That was six years ago!”

While Hinata is keeping his distance and not bothering him too much, Sakusa can't let him get comfortable. “I don't hang around people who don't know how to manage their health.”

He expects Hinata to defend himself or even get offended. Instead when he looks up at Hinata, he watches the way he looks around the practice room, a calm and determined smile on his face. “I learned from what happened. I'm way better about it.”

Sakusa doesn't know what to say and before he can even think of something, Hinata is walking off to the next person.

The thing is Sakusa can tell Hinata isn't lying. He looks so different from that high school kid Sakusa remembers seeing. He watches his retreating form, observes his tanned skin, his bulkier form and even how he's slightly taller. He walks with a new found confidence and overall Sakusa has to admit, it looks good on him.

He doesn't know how to feel about it.

—

Sometimes Sakusa wonders just how Hinata can pull people into his orbit.

He makes friends everywhere he goes. That much is obvious. What’s harder to understand is what happens afterward. People don’t simply meet Hinata and move on. They stay, keeping in touch across weeks and months, checking in even when there is no particular reason.

They’re always ready to help him. Always willing to show up, to listen, to make space in their lives for him. They treat his happiness like a shared responsibility.

He wonders how it's possible for one person to have that kind of influence.

And then promptly assures himself that it will never affect him.

But really, what a power.

Hinata has only been on the team a few weeks and he seems to be close to everyone.

Of course Bokuto and Atsumu don't really count.

Hinata and Bokuto, it turns out, have been close since the moment they met. They kept in touch even while Hinata was in Brazil, and now they’re practically inseparable. Where one goes, the other follows. Sakusa almost always finds them talking, laughing, or doing something that barely qualifies as training.

As for Atsumu, there seems to be some weird thing going on. Apparently they played against each other back in high school and had made a sort of promise to one day play together. It would be heartwarming if Sakusa cared at all.

So yes, Bokuto and Atsumu are expected.

What isn’t expected is everyone else.

The way Meian warms to Hinata almost immediately, the usual reserve gone in favor of something close to approval. The way Hinata trades jabs with Inunaki, laughter easy and unforced. The way he keeps pace in English with Thomas and Barnes, never embarrassed by mistakes, never hesitant to try.

They all seem to regard Hinata very highly. Always quick to laugh at his antics and praise him for his skills.

It really is something else. And really who can blame them when Hinata is so–

“Sakusa-san? You can go ahead and shower first!”

The interruption pulls Sakusa out of his thoughts so abruptly that for a moment he wonders if he had been voicing his thoughts out loud. Wonders how he knew exactly where Sakusa’s mind had been headed. Because here he is proving his point.

Because Hinata is surprisingly observant. Somewhere along the way, he’s noticed Sakusa’s habit of rushing to be among the first to use the showers, before they grow crowded and dirty. Instead of commenting on it, Hinata has simply made it his mission to help, to clear the way without fuss or attention. It's a weird feeling to have someone notice and care.

“Thank you, Hinata-san,” Sakusa says, giving a quick nod as he moves to beat the others there.

Hinata gives him a soft smile in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

And despite his earlier refusal, Sakusa feels himself getting pulled in.

—

“Omi-kun? Why is Hinata your favorite?”

Sakusa freezes mid-motion, fingers tightening slightly around his water bottle.

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps, before the rest of the sentence fully registers. He pauses, processing the words. Favorite?

He exhales slowly. “I don’t have favorites. I hate you all equally.”

There’s a beat of silence before Inunaki grins, unbothered. “Actually, I think you probably hate Atsumu a tad bit more.”

He feels the corner of his lip twitch up. Sakusa can't deny that.

Bokuto, of course, barrels straight past the comment. “Yes you do! I don't blame you, Hinata is everyone's favorite. I just didn't think he'd be your favorite, y'know?”

Sakusa blinks. Favorite. The word sticks.

He looks at Hinata, who’s busy chatting with Thomas and Meian across the room, oblivious to the conversation. Sakusa notices the way Hinata laughs at something small and stupid, the way he angles his body toward people when he talks so no one feels left out.

He looks back at Bokuto. “Hinata is not my favorite.” His tone makes it clear it's the end of the conversation and Bokuto being Bokuto simply smiles and wanders off to talk with Inunaki instead.

As Sakusa finally takes a drink of his water, he thinks about Bokuto's question. If he had to choose one teammate to spend more than ten minutes talking to, it probably would be Hinata.

But then again that's not really saying much. The teammates he's closest to are Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata due to their shared dorm. Obviously he'd pick Hinata over the other two.

Bokuto is exhausting. All boundless energy and zero self-awareness. He drinks straight from the juice carton when he thinks no one’s looking, forgets his assigned dorm chores, and somehow takes the shortest showers imaginable. Frankly, it’s concerning.

And Atsumu… Atsumu is a problem. They clash constantly. Two blunt, abrasive personalities with very little overlap and even less patience for each other. Like Bokuto he doesn't do his designated dorm room chores on time but not because he forgets. No, he simply does it to annoy Sakusa. He just knows it.

So really is it surprising at all that he would choose Hinata?

Hinata who listens when Sakusa explains the chore schedule and actually follows it. Does the work properly the way Sakusa taught him. Hinata who wakes up earlier than everyone else to do yoga and meditate, and somehow still has time to make breakfast without making a mess in the kitchen.

Hinata who has an immaculate personal hygiene routine, something Sakusa noticed almost immediately and that had caught him genuinely off guard. Who maintains a strict sleep schedule and takes care of what he eats and actually applies sunscreen.

Hinata who understands body language. Who surprisingly, understands him. He knows when to dial back the energy without dulling it completely, staying warm and kind without overwhelming him. Knows how to keep him included in conversations while subtly positioning himself in a way that gives Sakusa space.

Hinata who actually listens and asks good questions. Who remembers small things like Sakusa’s preferred brand of hand sanitizer and starts carrying one himself without ever mentioning it. Just in case.

Hinata who–

Sakusa’s grip tightens suddenly, the water bottle slipping just enough to jolt him back to himself. Because there it is. The thought, fully formed and impossible to deny.

Hinata is his favorite.

—

After that conversation, Sakusa can’t seem to stop noticing Hinata.

It’s irritating more than anything else. Sakusa has always been observant by nature, usually so he knows what to expect and what to avoid. But now his attention keeps drifting toward Hinata without his consent, catching on details that feel completely unnecessary.

Because it’s not just about how Hinata stretches with careful precision, as if mindful of every joint. Or the way he wipes down shared equipment without being asked, caps his water bottle properly, and keeps his things neatly organized in his locker.

No, it's not just that anymore.

Now Sakusa notices the faint scent of soap when Hinata passes by. He notices which snacks Hinata reaches for after practice and, without thinking too much about it, buys extras the next time they stop by a convenience store. He notices how Hinata always tugs at the hem of his shirt when he’s thinking and how he leans in just slightly when he’s listening.

The way his hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck when it’s damp with sweat. The way his shoulders have broadened over the years. It's impossible to ignore even when Sakusa tells himself he has no reason to be looking.

None of this is important. And yet Sakusa catches himself watching and realizes that somewhere along the way it has become normal.

Hinata fits into the space around him now. His presence brings a quiet sense of ease, like that space was always meant to accommodate him.

It unsettles Sakusa. He tries to analyze it and search for a reasonable explanation. Thinks about all the time they spend together and how it must be blurring into something else. That has to be it.

Except Sakusa has never cataloged someone’s expressions before. Never remembered the exact curve of a smile or the way a voice softens when someone is being sincere. Never found himself adjusting his own behavior.

He notices that he doesn’t rush conversations with Hinata. That he doesn’t feel the need to retreat. That the idea of Hinata misreading him leaves behind a faint, uncomfortable tension in his chest.

That’s the part he can’t explain.

Sakusa doesn’t know what this feeling is. He only knows it’s deeply inconvenient.

Sakusa forces his thoughts to a stop.

He decides it doesn’t need further examination. There’s no reason to pick at it when nothing is actually wrong. And he's always been good at setting things aside when they’re inconvenient.

—

Because Sakusa is now noticing Hinata, he also notices Atsumu.

It’s hard not to. Atsumu has clung to Hinata from the moment he arrived for tryouts. Wherever Hinata goes, Atsumu is usually trailing close by, trying to catch his attention.

“Shouyou-kun! Come hit my tosses.”

The name grates on Sakusa. It bothers him how easy it is for Atsumu to call Hinata by his first name. 

Hinata rushes over, happy and excited. “Of course Atsumu-san!”

Looking at Atsumu feels like staring into a mirror. Because despite his cocky attitude and brash confidence, there’s a loneliness there that Sakusa recognizes instantly. Before Hinata, Sakusa was fairly certain Atsumu was only close to his twin. He spoke to teammates, yes, but it wasn’t really friendship.

And like Sakusa, Hinata has seemingly taken notice of Atsumu. He notices him in a way no one else does, validates him, makes him feel visible. Atsumu thrives on it. He now has someone who thinks he’s cool, who shares his obsession with volleyball, who wants to stay late to practice, and who finds him funny in a way few ever have. While others roll their eyes at Atsumu’s antics, Sakusa included, Hinata laughs and joins in.

And Atsumu reciprocates. He listens more and tries harder to be a good person. He pays attention when Hinata talks and remembers little details.

In the same way Hinata has quietly slipped into Sakusa’s space, he fits just as easily beside Atsumu. He adjusts without effort, moves with him naturally, and matches his rhythm. It’s unsettling how seamless it is.

A reflection, really.

Sakusa doesn't know what to do about this realization. Doesn’t like seeing his own tendencies mirrored so clearly. Doesn’t like having something in common with Atsumu at all. It makes everything feel too exposed, too obvious.

But there is a difference. There has to be, Sakusa thinks.

What he doesn’t have in common with Atsumu is the way he looks at Hinata.

Because Atsumu looks at Hinata like he wants more. Like playing on the same team, sharing a dorm, seeing each other every day still isn’t enough. Like standing beside him is somehow too far away.

Sakusa watches the way they talk, the way Atsumu always leans in way too close. His eyes always fixed on Hinata's, refusing to look away. He trails after Hinata the same way Bokuto does, but there’s intention in it. Atsumu always walks just close enough, his hand hovering at Hinata’s side, fingers flexing like they expect to find Hinata’s sleeve, his wrist, his hand.

Atsumu calls him nicknames, ruffles his hair, drapes an arm over his shoulders like it belongs there. He pulls Hinata in close, casual and unashamed, and they’re always laughing, bantering, moving like they exist in the same orbit.

Atsumu looks at Hinata like he wants him.

The realization registers, followed by an unpleasant, lingering discomfort.

No. Sakusa doesn't look at Hinata the same way.

He doesn't.

He doesn’t crowd his space or reach without thinking. He doesn’t want more than what’s already been allowed. What Atsumu feels is obvious and unrestrained, worn openly in the way he stands too close and never looks away.

Sakusa is nothing like that.

He tells himself the difference matters. He repeats it until it becomes the only thing he can hold onto. Denial keeps him from asking why it bothers him at all.

—

It's one of those rare evenings where neither of them has plans. Atsumu has headed off to see his brother, Bokuto has something with Akaashi, and for once, the dorm feels quiet.

Sakusa is grateful for it until there's a knock at his door.

He opens it to find Hinata standing there, hands tucked behind his back, a small but hopeful smile already forming.

“Hey, Omi-san,” he says easily. “Do you want to grab dinner together?”

Sakusa hesitates, his mind immediately reaching for a polite refusal out of habit. He isn’t good at spontaneous plans, and eating out is usually the first thing he avoids. But the idea of eating with just Hinata… it doesn’t feel unpleasant.

“I… I don’t really–” he begins, not exactly sure what to say.

“Or,” Hinata says softly, noticing the falter, “we could just eat here. We would only need to make a quick stop at the store and we can cook together!”

Sakusa blinks. He hasn’t said anything and yet somehow Hinata knows exactly what he's thinking. A strange warmth creeps into his chest.

After a moment, he finds himself nodding. “That would be fine.”

Hinata’s smile brightens immediately, open and genuine. “Great! I can even make sweet potato yokan for dessert.”

Sakusa freezes.

Hinata shifts, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish little laugh. “You like that dessert, right? I’m pretty sure you mentioned it once.”

He did mention it once. Months ago in passing. Sakusa feels heat creep up his neck and immediately adjusts his mask, grateful for the barrier. “…That would be nice,” he says quietly.

They set off toward the grocery store, walking side by side, the quiet of the evening broken only by Hinata’s easy chatter. Sakusa tries not to notice the way his shoulders relax slightly in Hinata’s presence.

Inside the store, Hinata is quick to walk the aisles and grab what they need. Every so often, he’ll pause and glance back.

“Oh, you like this, right?”
“We should grab this too. It’s good to keep in the dorm.”

Each time, Sakusa nods, and each time, something flutters low in his stomach.

When they reach the register, Sakusa steps forward first, card already out. Hinata laughs and simply says he'll pay next time.

Next time

The walk back is filled with quiet conversation. Sakusa does his best to answer, to ask questions of his own, even when it doesn’t come naturally.

Cooking together is surprisingly easy. They move around each other with an ease Sakusa wasn't expecting. Hinata washes the produce while Sakusa preps the ingredients. Hinata even puts on music, humming along as he works, occasionally singing a line without thinking.

And when they finally sit down to eat, the comfort settles even deeper.

Hinata is quick to ask how Sakusa has been feeling lately. He asks about his family, about how he feels about the upcoming match, and even about his cousin. Every so often, he brings up small details Sakusa barely remembers mentioning.

It feels nice to have a friend. Sakusa isn't very used to it.

As they finish dessert, Hinata leans back in his chair and lets out a satisfied sigh, stretching slightly.

“Man, that was all so good! We should really do this more often.”

Sakusa nods in agreement, carefully ignoring the way his chest tightens at the idea. Instead of lingering on the feeling, he stands and begins gathering the plates, focusing on the simple task of cleaning up.

Hinata watches him for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips, before pushing himself up to follow. He's always quick to help.

“You know, Omi-san,” Hinata says suddenly, his voice light but sincere, “you’re a really amazing guy.”

Sakusa nearly drops the plate in his hands.

“What?” he blurts, turning around a little too quickly.

Hinata laughs at his expression. “Sorry, sorry! That was random. But it’s true. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

He says it easily, without hesitation. “You’re super dedicated and focused and obviously really talented! I appreciate how much you do to keep the dorm in order. And honestly?” Hinata tilts his head slightly, “Despite what people think, you’re really nice and funny.”

He pauses, then smiles wider. “I’m really happy we ended up on the same team.”

Sakusa stares at him, his thoughts scrambling. Shock gives way to confusion, then to something warm and overwhelming that makes his heart pound

He isn’t wearing his mask. He becomes painfully aware of this as heat rushes to his face, his ears burning. Whatever expression he's making must be amusing because Hinata laughs again.

“Thank you, Hinata-kun,” Sakusa manages at last. The words feel clumsy and insufficient. He hates how stiff they sound, hates himself a bit because he wants to say more.

He wants to tell him that he feels the same. That despite everything, he's happy being on this team with him. That he's a great friend and having him in his life has really been a blessing. He hates that he's not good at this.

But Hinata doesn't seem to mind at all. His gaze stays on Sakusa, gentle and knowing, as if he understands everything Sakusa can’t say.

Once everything is cleaned and put away, they stand in the hallway, the night settling around them. Hinata smiles, already turning to enter his room.

“I’ll have breakfast ready tomorrow, Omi-san,” he says cheerfully. “Sleep well!”

Hinata starts to turn away, and something in Sakusa’s chest lurches.

“Goodnight, Hinata,” he says. Then, after a brief pause, forces the words out, “I… I enjoyed today too.”

Hinata stops.

Sakusa swallows. He needs to say it. “I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

I'm glad I met you.

Hinata turns back, his smile bright enough to steal the breath from Sakusa’s lungs.

Later, lying in bed, Sakusa presses a hand to his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.

It doesn’t work.

—

Sakusa is stretching near the sideline when the conversation drifts over to him without warning.

Atsumu’s on the other end of the court, laughing too loudly as usual, Hinata right beside him.

Sakusa keeps his eyes on the floor, focused on his breathing, until Bokuto’s voice cuts through the gym.

“I still can’t believe it,” Bokuto says. “It always surprises me that Hinata thinks Tsum-Tsum is so funny.”

Inunaki snorts. “It's wild.”

Hinata laughs at something Atsumu says and Bokuto gestures toward them like he’s presenting undeniable proof.

“See? That's a real laugh, not one of those fake nice ones.”

Sakusa’s stretch stalls for just a fraction of a second before he forces himself to continue.

Meian, standing nearby with his arms crossed, hums thoughtfully. “Honestly, I’m glad for it.”

“Glad?” Bokuto asks.

“It motivates Atsumu,” Meian explains. “He’s been more focused lately. I think he needed someone like Hinata.”

“Yeah,” Inunaki agrees easily. “He’s trying harder and they work well together.”

Bokuto turns to watch the two on the court. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

Sakusa presses his palms onto the floor, grounding himself. He tilts his head up a bit.

“Man,” Inunaki says, scratching at the back of his neck, “I kinda wish he’d just confess already though.”

The word lands heavier than Sakusa expects.

Bokuto blinks. “Confess?”

Inunaki nods, casual. “Yeah. It’s painful to watch.”

Sakusa’s breath catches.

“What’s painful?” Bokuto asks.

Inunaki tilts his head toward the court. “C’mon don't tell me you haven't noticed all the hovering and the nicknames. I mean just look at the way Atsumu looks at Hinata.”

Bokuto watches for a moment longer, then lets out a soft, understanding sound. “Ooooh.”

“And honestly,” Inunaki adds, like it’s an afterthought, “Hinata doesn’t exactly push him away.”

Sakusa freezes.

His body locks mid-stretch, muscles going taut all at once. Inunaki keeps going. “If anything, he kinda leans into it. He finds him funny and follows him around too. He likes staying close to him, you know?”

Meian exhales quietly. “You think Hinata knows?”

Inunaki shrugs. “I mean. Probably? He’s not dumb. And it really doesn’t look one-sided.”

Hinata laughs again, louder this time.

Sakusa looks away.

“I mean,” Bokuto says, excited now, “if it makes Tsum-Tsum better, like happier, I’m not against him dating my disciple!”

“Same,” Inunaki says. “As long as he doesn’t screw it up.”

Meian agrees.

Sakusa forces himself to finish the stretch, though his movements feel stiff and disconnected. He rises slowly, carefully, as if standing too fast might make the ache in his chest spread.

Not one-sided.

He tells himself it doesn’t matter. That this changes nothing. That whatever Atsumu feels, and whatever Hinata allows, has nothing to do with him.

But the pain settles deeper, heavier than before, sinking somewhere he doesn’t have a name for.

Painful to watch, Inunaki had said.

He knows he shouldn’t, but his eyes drift back to Atsumu and Hinata.

Across the court, Hinata is still beside Atsumu, close enough that their shoulders brush when they move. It would be easy to dismiss if it were anyone else. Hinata is friendly and he's close to people all the time.

But Sakusa has been noticing him for too long to lie to himself like that.

He notices the touches next. They're not obvious but they're frequent enough to matter. A hand briefly catches Atsumu’s sleeve when he moves too far ahead. Fingers brush his wrist as Hinata passes him a towel. A gentle nudge with his shoulder, playful and familiar.

And it's not just what he's seeing right now. He thinks about other moments too.

Of the way Atsumu and Hinata end up sprawled together on the couch watching a movie. Of Hinata leaning over Atsumu’s shoulder to comment on a game, close enough that their heads nearly touch. Of the laughter that carries down the hall late at night. Of Hinata going with Atsumu to visit Osamu.

Sakusa had noticed all of it before. He just hadn’t wanted to understand it. But now? Sakusa admits it.

Hinata looks at Atsumu the way Sakusa has been trying not to look at him.

He watches Hinata’s head tilt toward Atsumu. When Atsumu speaks, Hinata listens like he’s the only one in the room.

That’s what makes it unbearable.

A sharp twist burns in Sakusa’s chest. It feels hot and bitter and sudden.

Jealousy.

The word tastes wrong on his tongue. It claws at the base of his stomach, curls up through his ribs, presses against his chest with a sharp insistence that makes every nerve ache. His hands curl into fists at his sides.

Sakusa turns away, jaw set, attention deliberately elsewhere. He doesn't want to look anymore.

—

“–and then in the next episode, I was just losing it! I swear, the guy is literally doing everything for her. Like, he made her breakfast, helped her with her work project, and didn’t even complain once!”

Sakusa hums along, half-listening, already calculating when he can politely steer the conversation elsewhere. He values these calls, even looks forward to them, but Komori has a habit of spiraling once he gets excited.

“It's the second male lead curse,” Komori wails.

Sakusa pauses. “... Second male lead curse? What's that?”

“It’s this thing,” Komori says, clearly pleased to explain, not pausing to question Sakusa’s sudden interest, “where viewers end up liking the second male lead better than the main guy. Like, the second lead is usually always nicer, more considerate, and goes out of his way to make the female lead happy. The main guy… he’s fine, sure, but the second lead? Way better.”

Sakusa shifts, sitting up just a little. “Better how?”

“You know,” Komori continues, oblivious to Sakusa’s growing thoughts, “he notices the little things. He remembers what she likes, what she hates. Sometimes they just fit better, you know? They have more in common and better chemistry.” He sighs dramatically. “But of course, she still ends up with the main guy. And I’m just sitting there thinking she could’ve done so much better.”

Sakusa stays quiet, listening. Or at least he's trying to. But his thoughts wander despite his best efforts.

“…I see,” he finally says, almost too casually. “Sounds… irritating.”

Komori doesn’t pause to consider the tone. “It is! And man it's hard to watch. Especially when it's clear the girl actually has some feelings for the second guy. But it's never enough and in the end the second guy ends up alone and with his heart broken.”

Sakusa feels himself go numb.

He isn’t sure what he says after that. A sound of agreement, maybe. A vague response. Komori is already moving on, launching into another episode, his voice filling the silence Sakusa can’t.

He hates that he wants to compare.

Hates that he somehow understands what Komori is saying.

Because somewhere along the way, Sakusa has finally allowed himself to admit the truth. He likes Hinata. Likes him so much in a way he never once thought would be possible.

And it hurts because Hinata does not feel the same.

Hinata likes Atsumu.

He tells himself it makes sense, that there is nothing surprising about it. Of course Hinata would be drawn to Atsumu’s constant presence, his loud and reckless honesty, the way he doesn’t pause or hold back.

Of course it wouldn’t be him. Sakusa isn’t good with words, especially not the ones that come easily or charm anyone. Physical contact doesn't come naturally to him either. He cannot match Hinata’s energy, cannot keep up with it the way Atsumu does.

He does not know how to initiate closeness the way Atsumu does, how to tug Hinata in by the sleeve or throw an arm around his shoulders, how to tease him and make it feel effortless rather than forced.

He watches Atsumu do all of it without thinking, and he knows he cannot compete.

No, he is not Atsumu.

But he does balance Hinata.

Hinata talks, and Sakusa listens. Hinata is all energy and motion, and Sakusa is steady, quiet. They seem to fit together that way. They’re both disciplined and they take care of themselves. Their banter is quieter, but it’s there.

And Sakusa knows Hinata too. He knows the foods that he enjoys, the little differences in his expressions when he’s excited or annoyed. He notices the way Hinata shifts when he’s tired and how his smile changes when he’s genuinely happy.

It should matter too. But it doesn't.

Sakusa feels like he can't breathe.

Because why is that not enough? What is he missing?

Komori rambles on, cheerful and unaware, and for a brief, painful instant, Sakusa imagines opening up completely. He wonders if Komori would root for him the way people root for Atsumu.

—

Sometimes Sakusa wonders if it would be better to just confess.To lay it all bare, to stop carrying it around like a weight in his chest. To stop with all the what ifs.

Maybe once he's rejected he can finally move on. Maybe it'll hurt a bit but time heals and he'll be fine. He could finally stop cataloging every little interaction, every fleeting smile or pause in conversation. He could rid himself of the quiet, nagging hope that somewhere deep down, maybe, just maybe, Hinata might consider him. Might give him a chance.

It’s a ridiculous thought, and he hates himself for it. He never imagined being in this situation.

He turns the scenario over and over in his head, weighing every possibility, replaying the worst outcomes and, on rare occasions, allowing himself to imagine the best.

Screw it.

He'll just tell Hinata.

He thinks about how they’re usually the first ones done with showers, the first to get ready after practice. If he times it right, he could finally say it. Confess, be rejected, and the others would emerge just in time to save him from having to hear Hinata offer any kind of apology. It would avoid an awkward situation and he would finally have closure.

But of course, because life hates him, he doesn't get the chance.

Because the very next day, Atsumu and Hinata are holding hands.

Sakusa stares.

Because just earlier in the day everything had been normal. Nothing had seemed different. They had woken up, had breakfast together, and gone to practice.

They're holding hands.

And after practice, Meian had suggested going out to eat and he'd dragged the whole team out. Hinata had lingered near the lockers, waiting on Atsumu, who, true to form, was taking his sweet time. Hinata had waved the rest of the team off, his voice light and patient. “Go ahead, we’ll catch up at the restaurant.”

So Sakusa goes with the team, ends up pushed into a chair by their captain, and waits for the last two to arrive.

And now they're here and they're holding hands.

Both of them are flushed, faces warm with embarrassment and excitement, grinning at each other shyly.

“Oh? What's this?” Inunaki’s voice carries across the table, teasing and amused.

“Are you two finally dating?” Bokuto blurts out, unable to hide his excitement, leaning forward as if he’s about to witness the event of the century.

“No way! Who confessed?” Thomas asks, laughing.

The table erupts. Questions fly. Someone shouts that this calls for a celebration. Another adds it’s about time, mock-serious and grinning.

But despite the noise, Sakusa feels like he can't hear anything.

Because he can't stop looking at them.

They're holding hands.

Atsumu looks proud as he tells the story, grin stretched wide as he admits he just blurted it out on the way to the restaurant.

Hinata, beside him, looks radiant.

His cheeks are flushed, warm with color, his eyes bright in a way Sakusa has never seen before. He laughs softly as he talks, adding his side of things, but Sakusa can’t bring himself to listen. All he can see is the happiness written across Hinata’s face, so vivid it hurts.

Everything becomes too much.

Sakusa rises abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, and everyone turns to look at him.

“Sakusa-san?” Meian asks, voice concerned.

“Sorry, Captain. I’m not feeling well. I’ll be leaving early.” The sentence comes out harsh even to his own ears.

Hinata’s eyes flick toward him, wide and genuinely worried. “You okay, Omi-san?”

The genuine concern cuts through him, and with it comes a bitter knot of want and jealousy.

“I’m fine,” Sakusa says, voice too short, too quick.

Hinata studies him for half a second longer, like he’s weighing whether to push, before he gives a small tentative smile and nods. “Okay.”

Then Atsumu says something and Hinata’s attention snaps back to him

Sakusa feels sick. He doesn't wait for anyone else to say anything. He simply nods in farewell and rushes out of there.

He needs air.

The walk back to the dorm is a blur. His chest aches, tight and unrelenting. His head pounds in rhythm with his heartbeat. Behind his eyes, a dull pressure builds. 

He feels so stupid.

He knew this would happen. Obviously it would. They liked each other. Sakusa had seen it coming and still, somehow, convinced himself it wouldn’t hurt too much.

He hadn't known it would feel like this. Hadn’t known the nausea would hit so fast, so violently, like his body was rejecting the sight. Hadn’t expected the sharp, almost deep ache in his heart that makes him slow his steps just to steady himself.

He barely remembers opening his door. By the time he makes it inside, his hands are shaking.

This is ridiculous. He’s a grown man. He’s dealt with worse than this.

And yet his throat feels tight, his eyes burn, and his heart won’t stop racing. He hates it.

Hates that he was short with Hinata and walked out like that on everyone without explanation. He can already imagine the questions. He knows he will have to say something, eventually, to smooth things over.

Sakusa knows he will have to comment on their relationship. Congratulate them. Smile and act like it doesn’t hurt.

But not tonight. Tonight, he lies down and lets it hit him. He lets the weight of everything he has been holding back settle in his chest. The longing. The jealousy. The quiet ache that pulses with every thought of Hinata’s laughter.

He feels every unreciprocated feeling, sharp and raw, gnawing at him from the inside. Every memory of subtle smiles, shared jokes, and quiet moments he treasured alone with Hinata twists into something painful and unreachable.

And in this moment of stillness and ache, he finally admits the truth he has been avoiding.

He is in love, and it is the cruelest thing he has ever known.