Forget Me Not

AngelOpps

“Shouyou-kun, one day, I'm gonna set for you.”

“Will you make me fly that day?”

Shoyo faced one of the Miya twins in all his glory.

He couldn't tell which twin it was. He was so tired, he had jumped and run so much that day, he'd even defended a few times. All he wanted was to eat and sleep, just that; he didn't want to have to figure out which twin was standing there in front of him.

He was completely mistaken.

The words that Miya spoke to him were forever etched into his skin. Literally.

When a baby is born, the first words their soulmate says to them are engraved somewhere on their body. Shoyo's mother and father's were on their waists, small words written in a black that could be mistaken for a tattoo. Shoyo's, however, was on the palm of his right hand, and no one in his family could understand the meaning of those words.

Shoyo himself only understood after watching a volleyball match on a store's TV, he fell completely and hopelessly in love with the sport, trying to learn everything about it in just one day. Even so, his inexperience in the sport and his young age didn't allow him to fully understand the weight of the words marked on his skin.

He always wore a glove on his right hand to hide his words. It wasn't very well-regarded to show one's soulmark to just anyone; it was too intimate, and everyone hid theirs as best they could. The only way Shoyo found was to wear a glove, until he discovered that athletic tape was better and he could still hit the ball more comfortably. It looked a little rough while he played, but it was the best solution he found.

He was still in middle school when his mother entered his room with a new pair of gloves (the old ones were worn out from so much use), looking apprehensive. Shoyo knew that expression on her face, she was determined, and in that moment he felt afraid of what she was going to say.

Shoyo hates remembering that day, he never felt so betrayed and invalidated. Hearing his mother doubt his passion for volleyball, trying to persuade him that he only liked volleyball because of the stupid soulmark. Trying to make him give up volleyball because of his height. Giving up on supporting his dream of being a volleyball player.

He doesn't remember when he stopped crying, maybe when he finally fell asleep. He hates to admit how much it still hurts.

It took a long time until Hinata played his first real match. It took a long time until he had his own team. It took a long time until he convinced himself that his soulmate had nothing to do with his love for volleyball.

His love for volleyball was his and his alone. Walking this entire path was also his alone. Comments about his lack of height and about his motivation for being in volleyball being because of his soulmate wouldn't affect him anymore, because he was fully aware that he did it because he loved it. He loved volleyball more than anything, more than those stupid words written on the palm of his hand.

He specifically remembers the day he had to tell his team about his mark.

Everyone found it strange that he wore gloves in any season, plus the tape on his hand during practices and matches.

Before their first official game, the coach asked him to explain the reason for hiding his hands, and if it would harm the team.

It was humiliating and uncomfortable. The coach was an adult, and adults should know how personal a soulmark is. Still, he revealed it. He called the whole team, took the tape off his hand, and showed the mark.

Any questions or doubts the team had ended that day.

When Karasuno lost to Aobajousai, Shoyo kept thinking about his value as a player on the court. If Kageyama wasn't there, he couldn't do anything else.

How could the words on Shoyo's hand be true if he couldn't do anything by himself? Why would his soulmate want to set for someone who didn't know the basics of volleyball? Wasn't he trying hard enough? Would he always be dependent on setters to stay on the court?

It hurt like hell. Even trying not to think that his soulmate had weight in his volleyball decisions, Shoyo couldn't deny the truth. He cared more than anything about the opinion of a person he had never seen in his life.

Shoyo was hungry, hungry for volleyball. He wanted to know everything, he wanted to learn everything. Volleyball was his life, and he would dedicate himself to becoming a player he could be proud of and who would make his soulmate proud, a soulmate he hadn't met yet, but who drove him to try his best. So he trained. He made it to nationals.

At nationals, his hunger grew. The desire to win was constant.

At the end of the first day, when he was in the room with his team after their first victory, reviewing the Inarizaki team, he felt something strange. The same sensation he had felt during his first national game. A tingling in the palm of his right hand, where the mark was.

He had never experienced anything like it, nor heard anyone talk about it. He avoided scratching it for fear something would happen, but the more he looked at the TV with the Miya twins focused on the screen, the more the itch increased. Discreetly, he removed the tape and began scratching non-stop.

Everyone stopped to see Shoyo desperately scratching his hand, no longer paying attention to what the coach was saying.

“Stop that,” Kageyama said, grabbing Shoyo's wrist. “We have a match tomorrow. If you keep it up, you'll hurt your hand and we won't be able to use you.”

“I don't know what's happening. I desperately need to scratch my hand.”

“Keep doing that and I won't set for you tomorrow.”

They glared at each other angrily, ready to start a fight.

“There's ointment for that in my bag,” Tsukishima interrupted. “Let's go, Hinata.”

Reluctantly, Shoyo got up and followed the blond to the room where they were sleeping. He sat on the floor and waited for the ointment.

“It's something related to your soulmate,” Tsukishima said calmly as he handed over the ointment.

“Of course not, it's just a coincidence.”

Tsukishima just sighed, knowing it was useless to argue, and went back to where everyone was.

Shoyo didn't allow himself to think about it. Not when he was at nationals.

He should have thought about it, of course.

Tsukishima had warned him, the person he didn't have a good relationship with. They didn't even talk much, and yet he had warned him and lent him ointment.

He should have thought.

Now he would have to deal with the twin in front of him, the one who had just uttered the words written on his hand.

He opened his mouth and:

“Will you make me fly today?”

Kageyama just watched the exchange oddly until he understood what had happened. His eyes widened and he grabbed Shoyo's arm, dragging him back to where the team was.

The two were in complete silence. They bowed to the rival team, to the audience, and finally left the court together with their team, excited about the victory.

“Hinata found his soulmate,” Kageyama announced.

Each teenager there had a different reaction; some smiled happily, others looked scared. Only one wore a smile that said:

“I told you so,” Tsukishima stated. “His hand itching while watching the Miya twins was a clear sign.”

“And you didn't think to tell us?” said Nishinoya angrily. He was probably one of the most scared. His small kouhai had found his soulmate, his destiny, and what would happen from then on was a mystery.

“It's the shorty's personal business, not mine to go around announcing,” he shrugged.

“Which twin is it?” Yachi said, totally interested. It was like seeing a fairy tale in person.

“Atsumu-san,” Kageyama replied.

“So that's his name?” Shoyo said after being quiet for a while.

He was still processing the information. It was still hard to understand what was happening. All he wanted to do was go back to where his soulmate was and talk to him.

It was like a small magnet, Shoyo felt pulled toward the opposite side of where he was walking, the side where Miya Atsumu certainly was. He felt suffocated, there was too much happening at once, and for Shoyo, who processed things slowly and calmly, it was overwhelming. He wanted to close himself off somewhere and stay there hidden until he knew what to do.

He was feeling all the emotions at once. He felt humiliated because, even with the game won, a voice in his thoughts seemed to remind him that Atsumu was considered the best junior setter in Japan, and what was Shoyo? But he also felt determined, because he wanted to get better, faster, to keep up with Atsumu, his soulmate.

And above all, he wanted Atsumu to be proud to be his soulmate, to have enough reasons for his statement, written on Shoyo's palm, to one day come true. And for that, he decided to give his best at nationals so that when he could look Atsumu in the face, he could say he was getting closer and closer to his soulmate's level.

But it didn't happen as he expected.

What happened was him pathetically falling to the floor and not being able to get up. What happened was him not taking enough care of his body. What happened was Karasuno losing the semifinal match.

For his first time at nationals, reaching the quarterfinals wasn't bad, in fact, it was a spectacular result if you looked at the team's record from recent years. But for Shoyo, who had promised himself to be at his soulmate's level, it was shameful.

He couldn't face Atsumu.

When the twins came to the hotel where Karasuno was staying to visit Shoyo, he asked them to be turned away. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing Atsumu's face without starting to cry, feeling useless and like a terrible player.

So he improved. He started taking better care of his body, started training better. He pushed himself harder and harder, so he could meet Atsumu again on the national stage and finally be able to face his soulmate.

All that for them to lose to Datekou. It was a cold shower.

It seemed that with each passing day, he was getting farther and farther away from Miya Atsumu.

And Shoyo didn't understand, how was it that he, who once hated the idea of his passion for volleyball being just a product of fate and his soulmate and not his own, was now doing all this thinking about his soulmate?

He still believes his love for volleyball is his and his alone, but he can't deny that finding Atsumu drove him to give his all to the sport. He wanted to prove to Atsumu that he was worth the words written on his hand, that he didn't depend on any setter to be on the court, that he was good but could be better.

Having a soulmate who had achieved so much in the sport you love shook Shoyo's confidence. So all he wanted was to prove to everyone, and especially to Atsumu, that he was good at volleyball.

So, the second meeting of the two was… different from what Shoyo expected.

“Miya Atsumu?” Shoyo said, surprised, finding the blond standing in his room.

He was sitting on the tatami floor, cross-legged, looking at his own hand. Shoyo wasn't that close, but he could see that Atsumu was looking at his soulmark on the palm of his hand.

“Ah, Shoyo-kun! I was waiting for you. Your blond manager let me in.”

Shoyo blinked, somewhat incredulous at the situation.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why don't you sit down first?” He sounded inviting, but Shoyo wanted to run away. He shouldn't be seeing, much less talking to, Atsumu now, not when he hadn't yet proven his worth.

Despite that, he sat on the floor, away from Atsumu.

“Miya Atsumu, setter and captain of Inarizaki. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hinata Shoyo, middle blocker for Karasuno. It's a pleasure to meet you too,” he said, embarrassed. He looked everywhere except where Atsumu was.

Silence took over the place, making the situation awkward. Atsumu made a sound in his throat, getting Shoyo's attention.

“Congratulations on today's win,” said the blond. “I was watching from the stands. Your quick attack is better than before.”

“Kageyama and I have been working even harder since the last time we faced each other! Somehow the spike gets more waaah every time I hit it.”

Atsumu had found the perfect topic to get Shoyo to open up to him. Now he was looking at Atsumu's face and talking animatedly about volleyball.

“I bet my and Samu's quick is even faster than yours!”

“What?! You must be joking. You haven't seen the maximum speed of my quick with Kageyama yet.”

“Then we'll have to face each other to find out which quick is best.” Atsumu's smile was confident, sharp, and seemed to do things to Shoyo's heart. He stared at Atsumu and his smile, dazzled by the challenge presented to him.

“Does winning mean having the best quick or scoring more points with it?” Shoyo's eyes shone at Atsumu, even copying the smile on his face.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Are you scared?”

And then one of the most beautiful things Shoyo had ever seen happened. Atsumu smiled, but not just a smile, a laugh. Seeing that filled Shoyo's heart with something he couldn't quite name. It made his mark burn in his hand, but not like a burn, just a warmth that comforted.

He brought his hand to his chest, holding it close. He was happy to be the only person witnessing something so beautiful.

“Now I understand why you're my soulmate,” Atsumu said, but then his eyes widened, as if he was surprised to say it out loud.

Shoyo's eyes also widened. They stared at each other in surprise, words stolen from their lips.

They acknowledged the topic they were both avoiding. Soulmates. They are each other's soulmates, and at some point, they needed to talk about it.

“So…” Atsumu began.

“Yes?”

“Soulmates, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see your mark?”

“Hmm, only if I can see yours.”

“No problem. Pretty much everyone has already seen mine.”

“You don't hide it?”

“Nah, got tired of trying to hide it. Besides, I really like it. I didn't really understand what it meant until the day you said it.” Atsumu looked at the mark on his palm and then at Shoyo. “After that, my life started to make a little more sense.”

“Oh.”

Atsumu extended his hand to Shoyo so he could look closely. Shoyo then approached Atsumu slowly, as if he himself were a scared animal. He got close enough to see the mark clearly.

It was his handwriting on Atsumu's palm. He extended his fingers and looked at Atsumu's face as if asking for permission to touch, to which he nodded. Shoyo's touch on the mark was almost ghostly, just the tips of his fingers leaving a tingling sensation as they slowly passed over it. Atsumu seemed to shiver at the touch but didn't stop Shoyo for a second, seeming to savor the moment.

Shoyo then turned his own palm upward, showing his mark to Atsumu. Shoyo could feel the calluses on Atsumu's fingers as he held his hand, pulling it slowly closer. It was his turn to trace the tip of his fingers over the handwriting on Shoyo's hand, outlining the words.

Shoyo held his breath when he felt Atsumu's touch on his mark. He felt his skin on fire, his whole body seemed to vibrate with the touch, as if he had been waiting for this his whole life.

“Oi, Hinata!” Kageyama opened the door to the room, shouting angrily, stopping when he saw Atsumu in the room. “Atsumu-san?”

Shoyo pulled his hand back to himself as if he had been caught doing something very wrong. He quickly got up from the floor, refusing to look at Atsumu, embarrassed.

“Ah, Tobio-kun. Well, I'm going now. My brother and team are waiting for me. See you on the court.”

On the court, Shoyo gave it his all. He still lost to Inarizaki.

He and Kageyama scored more points with their quick, but the twins won in the end. The twins' quick was faster than theirs. But unlike Kageyama and Hinata, who used it more often, the Miya brothers didn't have a pattern of plays, which made them more unpredictable.

He had fun while playing. It had been a long time since he felt that way.

In the end, Inarizaki continued moving forward, all the way to the top, finishing in second place. Shoyo was there in the stands, watching with Kenma, quietly cheering, and feeling sad for his soulmate when they lost. Itachiyama was better (if Shoyo were honest, that had been one of the best teams he had ever seen play).

Shoyo didn't seek out Atsumu after that.

Time passed. Atsumu was now a professional player, and Shoyo was in his last high school nationals, where he finished in third place. It wasn't the final, but Shoyo was happy. After so many ups and downs, Shoyo was beginning to learn to be grateful for everything he had achieved and for all the effort he had put in over the years.

He could now face Atsumu head-on.

“I'm going to Brazil next year.”

The first time they spoke after discovering they were soulmates was in Shoyo's hotel room during his second year of nationals. The second time they spoke was in Shoyo's hotel room during his last year of nationals, after winning his third-place medal.

“Why?”

Atsumu was frowning, confused by what he had just heard.

“Because I want to be better, I want to be stronger, I want to be someone you're proud to call your soulmate and teammate.”

“And how do you know I don't already feel that way?”

“We don't know each other, Atsumu.”

“We're soulmates.”

“And that doesn't guarantee anything. It doesn't guarantee that I'll love you, and it doesn't guarantee that you'll love me.”

”But-”

“Can you guarantee that, Atsumu?”

“If you stay in Japan, we can finally get to know each other better, we can start our lives together, and we can-”

“So instead of letting me fly, you're going to lock me in a cage?”

“What?! That's not what I said.”

“But that's how I interpreted it.”

Both fell silent, still sitting and looking at each other in that hotel room.

“Look, Shoyo. From the moment I saw you, I knew it was you. Only you could match my hunger for volleyball, so I always thought that once you finished school, we could play together, like I promised you.”

“Can't you wait three more years? I'm doing this for me! For my dream of being better.”

“I can wait, but I've already waited two years! Damn it, I dream about you every night, my teammates all know you from how much I talk about you. Samu can't stand hearing your name anymore, and my parents beg me to meet you.”

Shoyo could hear the longing in Atsumu's voice. The need to have Shoyo for himself. And Shoyo reciprocated all that feeling. But volleyball came first.

As an act of pity for himself and Atsumu, Shoyo leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Atsumu's.

He knew he was being petty, being selfish. He was giving hope, however minimal, to Atsumu. However, he wanted to quell the longing that ached in his chest for Atsumu, to have something of him, to have his lips, his body, and his love, even if only for a few seconds.

Atsumu returned the kiss. Hungrily.

They didn't know what they were doing, just following instinct, desire, and lust. They became a tangle, embracing, hands roaming up and down each other's bodies, mouths not parting for a second. Shoyo was almost in Atsumu's lap, just wanting more and more, trying to savor every second. He felt shocks of pleasure all over his body, goosebumps rising, it seemed like his marked hand was warmer, burning every place it touched.

“Shh, shh,” Atsumu pulled their mouths apart, holding Shoyo in place, who whimpered, missing the mouth pressed against his. “We have to calm down, okay? We need to finish talking.”

Shoyo sighed, sitting back on the futon. He rested his head on his knees, trying to hide his red face from embarrassment, pretending to be alone for a few seconds.

He took a deep breath. He was tired. He had played earlier that day, watched the national finals, and attended the medal ceremony. It was a day full of emotions.

His team was celebrating somewhere at that moment, but Shoyo preferred to stay at the hotel to talk to Atsumu, whom he had found in the stands wearing a cap and mask to avoid being recognized, now that he was a professional player.

“I can't understand you. One moment you want to push me away completely, and the next you kiss me as if you've been waiting for it your whole life.”

Shoyo could feel Atsumu's gaze on him but didn't have the courage to look at him.

“Shoyo,” Atsumu sighed. “I want to get to know you more than anything. I want to be by your side for the rest of my life, and not because you're my soulmate, but because you intrigue me and awaken things in me that I don't quite understand yet. You awaken within me a hunger that is uncontrollable. Every time I see you play, something inside me says you were made for me, that you're the only person in the world who can keep up with me. That you are mine.”

“Then forget me not. I'll be back in three years, and then we can turn what you say into reality.”

Shoyo lifted his face, looking deep into Atsumu's eyes, his own eyes shining with challenge. Atsumu just stared back, knowing it would be a losing battle to try to convince him not to go, so he just nodded in response.

Atsumu got up to leave. Shoyo stretched out, holding his hand in place, stopping him from walking. It was a silent request for him to stay.

He stayed.

Shoyo stayed one more year in Japan, and when it was finally time for him to leave for Brazil, he didn't tell almost any of his friends. The only one with him at the airport was Kenma, his friend and now sponsor, who helped with the luggage and the bureaucracy of moving to another country.

It seemed a little lonely, but he had chosen this path himself. It was the path to the top, he told himself.

The first few months in Brazil were the hardest. Getting used to the language, the food, and the culture was difficult, and not having anyone to talk to or vent to was horrible. He always told himself it was worth being there, while inside he just wanted to give up and return to Japan.

Then, finding Oikawa, of all people, was like finally breathing after drowning. They were acquaintances at best, but finding someone from the same country as you in a foreign country was so good, it was so good to be able to speak your native language with someone who understands you.

After that, Shoyo realized that volleyball didn't demand sacrifices; it demanded love, patience, and dedication, and that he already gave in abundance to volleyball. He didn't need to push everyone away from his life, even if he had gone to the other side of the world. They could still exchange messages and phone calls; they could interact on social media. He didn't need to abandon everyone using volleyball as an excuse.

He didn't need to have removed his soulmate from his life; he just used volleyball as an excuse. Shoyo was scared and confused and thought pushing Atsumu away would solve everything.

Don't get him wrong, coming to Brazil wasn't a mistake. Cutting off communication with everyone he knew was his mistake. Just because he was afraid this plan of going to the other side of the world to improve at volleyball would fail.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Oikawa said. He was lying in bed with Shoyo, only a sheet covering his torso. The light from his phone illuminated his face.

“Nothing important.”

Oikawa looked at him for a few seconds. He locked his phone screen and turned to face Shoyo.

“So, who's the lucky setter?” he said, pointing to the mark on his hand.

Shoyo rolled his eyes. Still, he answered with a smile.

“Miya Atsumu.”

Oikawa whistled.

“One of the best setters in Japan. Lucky Chibi-chan.” He had a mocking smile, a friendly tease. “How old were you?”

“I was sixteen and he was seventeen. We had just played against each other at nationals. We had met a few days earlier, but he never directed a word at me. So at the end of the match, while we were shaking hands, he said it to me.”

“What did you say back?”

“'Will you make me fly today?'” Just repeating the words from that day was enough to give him goosebumps.

“Strong words. Either you scared him to death, or he got hard.”

Shoyo laughed. “Actually, we both looked more confused than anything. Besides, he had just lost too.”

“I bet my money I'm right.” Shoyo wanted to wipe that mocking smile off his face. “And why didn't it work out between you two?”

“Who says it didn't?”

“Us having sex isn't reason enough to be sure it didn't work out between you two?”

Shoyo sighed. “I have… complicated feelings about my soulmate. So when he tried to get close, I pushed him away.”

“And why is that?”

“Are you trying to be my therapist?”

“I'm trying to help you. Don't make me regret it.”

Rolling his eyes, he answered. “My mother hates the idea of me being a volleyball player. According to her, I only play because of my soulmate, so she has tried in every way to make me stop playing.”

Shoyo closed his eyes, trying to find the best way to express himself.

“Ever since then, it's been hard for me to look at Atsumu. I never feel good enough to be by his side, while at the same time I try to show my mother that my love for volleyball is mine and mine alone and has nothing to do with him, I also feel a visceral need to want him close, to always be thinking about him. It's frustrating and terrifying. Do I want to improve at volleyball because I love the sport, or because I feel inferior to my soulmate and want to be on equal footing with him? Many times, I doubt my love for volleyball.”

“Hinata,” Oikawa's voice was serious, making Shoyo open his eyes to look at him. “I've never heard you talk such nonsense as now! Listen, I've seen you play, I've played against you! Me and everyone who has played against you and with you knows you're crazy about volleyball. If you weren't, you wouldn't be here on the other side of the world. Besides, wanting to improve because you love the sport and wanting to be on equal footing with Atsumu can coexist, the two options don't invalidate each other. Your love for volleyball is what connects you to Atsumu, not the other way around, so stop thinking and saying this nonsense. Stop running away, Shoyo!”

Shoyo blinked, stunned. Oikawa's words made… sense.

Still, it took a few weeks for Shoyo to muster the courage to send a message to Atsumu, unlike his friends, whom Shoyo started messaging again the next day. At first, it was just a few exchanged messages. Shoyo didn't really know what to say, and Atsumu seemed uncomfortable. The time zones were tricky, they couldn't always exchange many messages.

But Shoyo made an effort. He tried to stay in touch with his friends, making calls, sending messages, and commenting on their social media. With Atsumu, he did the same, but with greater frequency.

They called each other every week, whether to talk about how their week had been, to ask for help with something volleyball-related, or in Atsumu's case, to complain about his teammates and how he constantly suffered from having Bokuto on the same team.

Over the two years in Brazil, Shoyo made many friends, learned a new language and culture, almost totally opposite to his own, became relatively well-known in the Rio de Janeiro beach volleyball scene, learned to set, improved his defense, and especially his decoy technique.

It was worth it.

Of course, there were bad days and good days. Days when he regretted being there, when he missed his family and friends, when he cried on the phone with Atsumu — who comforted and calmed him — days when he won tournaments, days when he realized his significant improvement in volleyball.

Returning to Japan after everything he went through in Brazil felt surreal. He was returning without telling anyone, well, except Kenma, who would be the friend picking him up from the airport.

He was excited to reunite with his family and friends but wanted to surprise everyone. The idea of telling Atsumu he was returning caused a certain anxiety in him, on one hand, he desperately wanted to see him, on the other, he was afraid to see him. Talking on the phone was different from talking in person.

Their relationship in that year and a half was just as friends, getting to know each other better. Having a soulmark didn't mean you already knew the person destined for you, so this time was used to understand each other, learn about each other's goals, ambitions, and everything they would do in the name of their love for volleyball.

Oikawa was right, it was the love for volleyball that united them, not the other way around.

Shoyo hoped that now that he was back in Japan, his relationship with Atsumu would happen for real. He felt ready to face him and to have a romantic relationship. He wanted to feel again all those sensations he felt the last time they met. Atsumu's hands and mouth all over Shoyo's body, the sighs, moans, the shared intimacy. A farewell, not goodbye, but see you later.

He had returned, and this time to stay by his soulmate's side.

Shoyo surprised Atsumu on the day he went to try out for the new player of the MSBY Black Jackals. He knew the starting players would play a match against the participants, and it was in that match that he hoped to surprise the blond. As soon as the Black Jackals entered the court, Shoyo walked up to them, head held high, staring into Atsumu's eyes, who, as soon as he noticed the redhead, stood still, static, mouth open.

“I came here so you can finally fulfill your promise,” Shoyo announced for the entire court to hear.

Atsumu still stared at him in surprise, speechless.

“Well? Are you going to make me fly?”

“Always.” That was the only thing Atsumu could respond.

After that, everything was a blur. They played against each other, Shoyo was chosen as the new player for the MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu invited him to his house, and when they arrived, he pushed Shoyo against the wall and kissed him.

A kiss full of longing, hungry, warm.

“I know, I know. I'm back,” Shoyo whispered to Atsumu as he kissed his neck. “I came back for you.”

“I didn't forget you,” he said desperately in a whisper, kissing his soulmate's neck.

Atsumu guided them to the bedroom while they kissed, hands on waists, squeezing and pulling closer.

“Don't go,” he whispered in Shoyo's ear, slowly kissing his neck, leaving marks where his mouth passed, and whispering like a mantra, “Don't go, stay here, stay with me.”

“I won't.” Shoyo held Atsumu's face, hands on both cheeks. One little kiss, two, three. “I'm not leaving again.” He looked deep into his soulmate's eyes.

Atsumu held Shoyo's right hand, kissing the palm where his soulmark was.

Shoyo felt in love, and it was the best feeling in the world. He felt he could give the world to Atsumu if he looked at him like that and asked nicely.

“I love you,” Shoyo whispered. The words left his mouth without him thinking too much about it; it was just the purest truth, the kind of truth you can't hold back.

Atsumu opened a beautiful smile, much more beautiful than the one Shoyo had seen once. This one was simpler, but he could see the happiness and love in his eyes. Shoyo smiled back, hoping he was conveying the same feelings.

“I love you too Shoyo-kun.”

In Shoyo's opinion, this was the happiest moment of his life. He is a professional player in the sport he loves so much, dating his soulmate, has the best friends he could ask for, and lives life the way he always dreamed.

And his soulmate kept his promise. He made Shoyo fly. He didn't forget Shoyo. Every time they played together, he made Shoyo fly in a way he never imagined.

Looking back, he thinks he could have done things differently, but it wouldn't have brought the same result as now. He has no regrets about the past, everything happened that way because it had to.

Nothing else mattered. He and Atsumu were together, playing on the same team, would go to the Olympics together, and would live together for the rest of their lives.

With or without a soulmark, they were destined to be together.