Work Text:
creep (acoustic vers) - radiohead
Atsumu Miya entered his apartment (big fat lie, his fiancé’s apartment, but they would be moving out soon, and together), delighted. As soon as he put his keys in the cabinet in the hallway, he turned around and tripped over one of the boxes left in front of the door. He found himself lying on the floor in no time and, well… for once he was grateful for the kitsch rugs his beloved bought, because at least he had fallen on something soft.
However, he had no reason to be sad. His had had a wonderful day, training with the volleyball team had gone great, and now he just wanted to be with his fiancé.
— Baabeeeee? — he tried to get up, but slipped back to the floor like a fool, laughing. — My little star, where ya at?
— Offiiiceeee! — was the only answer he got, from a slightly disoriented voice.
Atsumu didn’t like that tone at all. It was light, but distracted. More than distracted, lost. As if she was drifting away on a path uncertain to the senses. It only foreshadowed troubles.
He jumped out of his shoes and sprinted towards the small room in the apartment, where his beauty normally worked.
He found her there, in the center of the room on her fluffy pink carpet, surrounded by papers and photographs. Two meters away, a beige box with a mediocre rose print laid open, overflowing with pages.
Her figure, growing softer and more voluptuous with each passing week, sat elegantly on the floor, enveloped in a soft floral dress. She stared first at a sheet of paper, then at a photograph, and then at yet another photograph. She looked as if she were invoking a demonic entity.
The comparison made his lips tremble for a moment. Even he couldn’t tell if it was laughter or fear.
— Babe, whatcha doing there on the floor?
At that point, she turned around. A faint smile lingered on her rosy lips, but it didn’t reach her distant eyes. — ‘Tsumu. Welcome home, my love.
Atsumu threw his training bag on the doorstep and approached her and making space among all that paper sheets in order to wrap her in his secure embrace. — I gave ya that super-ergonomic, super-expensive, super-chair… because ya promised me ya would use it, babe. Dun’ wanna find ya sitting on the floor again.
She huffed a tiny laugh, leaning against his chest and letting him kiss her all over her face. Her eyes were closed, and her stiff muscles slowly found relief under his gentle touch. — I know, ‘Tsumu. I’m just… looking…
— Mh? What yer looking at? It- nah, wait, it’s ya!
Atsumu picked up one of the photographs with a grin. It was a sweet shot of her with a white kitten curled up on her chest, the two of them exchanging loving glances. She looked so young; maybe twenty, or even younger.
A laugh. — That is me. This is my memory box. The first one since becoming an adult, the one I closed before meeting you.
— That’s why ya look so different… yer older.
— You mean younger…
— Nah, nah, yer an old person now.
— Miya Atsumu! — She slapped his arm, laughing harder. — God, my belly hurts.
Atsumu resumed cuddling her. His warm palm hesitantly rubbed her round baby bump, a softness that had been unusual for him until a few months ago. — No, babe, don’t stress yerself, c’mon.
She didn’t seem to be, in fact. She kept her gaze fixed on the photograph Atsumu had just placed on the floor, but her expression was still soft. — I’m not stressing, ‘Tsum. You make me laugh, it’s nice. It’s always been a nice thing.
— And it’ll be even nicer when our baby girl’s born… and I no longer hafta beg ya ta stay calm so as not ta upset her. — He didn’t stop showering her with attention. As if wanting to let her know that his words were sincere, that the love behind them was real. For both the creatures he held in his arms at that very moment.
He went back to looking at those photographs, suddenly drawn to one image: his fiancé in another man’s arms, in what appeared to be a chilly autumn night. The darkness that had tried to swallow them whole had been dispelled by her sparkling smile. — Babe, why didja open the box! Ya told me ya never open it.
Her eyes shot open, bigger than ever, and scanned the floor once more, as if she had forgotten for a moment. As if she had forgotten a grief for a moment and was now living her life again. As if his words brought her attention back to it, and the memories had pricked like a rose thorn. Atsumu immediately thought of the photo with that boy; following her gaze he caressed all of them with his sensitive attentions… and noticed how often that individual appeared. And seeing him annoyed Atsumu greatly.
— Oh. Yeah. I took the box to put it away, and… the moment I had it in my hands, I just… felt like opening it again.
Atsumu couldn’t help himself. At those words, his hand reached out for the photograph depicting the… he dreaded to think it, the two… lovers.
— Oh. — she said again. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Atsumu wasn’t bold enough to hold it any longer, so he let go and picked up another photo, the first one he could find. A photo of his little star shining bright at her graduation ceremony.
— Ya’ve never told me much of that period. — he pointed out, yet his smile was more relaxed: that sight was more familiar, more welcoming.
She took the photo from his hands. She sighed and pulled away from him, not too gently, and began to gather up all the papers. Then he noticed: in addition to the photos there were pages, pages from a sketch book, drawings torn from their album and kept there. There were portraits, landscapes, lots of cats, handwritten letters and typed letters. So many pieces of her that he had never seen, and e silently felt jealous of them.
Before any of them could understand what was going on, Atsumu threw himself onto those precious memories, grabbed them, clutched them possessively to his heart. And he was. He was possessive of his beloved.
— Ya wrote letters? And drew stuff? Ya never told me.
Torment struck in his little star’s features, drowning her before Atsumu could realize that she was sinking. In the time it took him to widen his eyes, her pained expression turned to pure heartache as she attempted deep breaths.
— Atsumu… please…
— And I knew ya were seeing other men before me, I didn’t expect anything different, but these— He began to leaf through all the photos with equal pain burning his irises. The same reaction as diving into saltwater with your eyes wide open. — These ain’t just photos with an ex. These are photos with a former boyfriend. And I had no idea.
— I don’t see him anymore. We’re not in touch anymore, Atsumu… I don’t see the…
— Ya don’t see the problem? Love, I’m not jealous, I’m more like… hurt. Why didn’t ya ever tell me? Did ya think I would have reacted poorly?
He finally froze at that sight. His little star, the light behind his eyes, was crying with a trembling lip.
— I-I didn’t mean to…!
He stood there for a moment, his heart trembling with pain inside his chest. His desire to cradle her to cradle her and calm her was strong enough to overcome his surprise.
He let the photo slip away to the floor. It was the least important thing right now, when there was an adorable, sweet little creature who needed support and comfort. She was a deeply sensitive girl, her emotions shaped every moment of her life. He hadn’t behaved very maturely, treating her without tact…
— Forgive me, — he whispered in her ear, wrapping her in his strong arms. His lips caressed her skin, her hair, leaving butterfly-light kisses everywhere. It was her favourite form of comfort in moments of distress. — I know ya don’t want ta fight.
— Atsumu, you don’t understand. — she tried to pull away to look him straight in the eyes, her eyelashes adorned with salty tears making her look even cuter and more delicate. In any other situation he would have acted differently. But honestly, he didn’t think that was the case, the conditions weren’t for unserious cuddles. — This is… a curse, — those words brought him down to earth, bursting his bubble. — I’ve never talked about that period… because every time I bring it up, he haunts me. I swear, ‘Tsumu, please- you have to believe me- this is a curse.
Atsumu wasn’t going to question her words, neither her opinion or her beliefs… the problem was that, in his eyes, that was simply ridiculous. Perhaps a little exaggerated. Ever since she got pregnant her hormones had made her really sensitive (he loved her for that, but to be honest, he had started to take everything she said with a grain of salt).
— Mhh… I don’t want to push certain buttons, but, my love… ya know I’d follow ya anywhere, through good fortune and adversity, through joy and hardship… if yer there, I’ll be there. Okay? Ya’ll never be alone. Whatever it is, I always take ya really seriously and I want ta protect ya. Talk ta me. I’ll help ya confront it.
She batted her lashes in silence. Two fat tears slipped from her eyes and caressed her cheeks to comfort her, followed shortly after by his hand and a smile.
— Do ya trust me, babe?
She nodded slowly. Then she shook her head. She was wavering. New tears followed a new tremor, and the sobs didn’t stop there. She was crying her eyes out.
As terrible as hormones were during pregnancy, her mood had always just fluctuated. This was no longer fluctuating: it was like taking a running start, taking off, flying high near a mountain, and then throwing oneself headlong into the abyss. And that upset him even more.
— Babe- love- no, no, no, c’mon, please, ‘msorry, didn’t mean ta pressure ya-
— It’s not you! — her words got strangled from those light gasps that shook her. — He was… Kouji meant the world to me, before you came into my life. I was… so young, and dumb, my love for him made me blind!
Atsumu kept rocking her, his eyebrows pinched in a distraught frown. — Love, I don’t think I’m… Ya know I’m not mad because of someone who had yer heart back then, right? We hadn’t met yet.
But her big doe eyes, filled to the brim with unshed tears, told a different story.
— ‘Tsumu, you have to believe me. Kouji is a curse. It’s as if his name alone is a curse. When I think about him, when I say his name… something terrible happens to me and ruins my life all over again. When I was his girl it kept happening, but I… I believed it was just bad luck, some kind of negative karma that I had brought upon myself. By the time I realized the truth, I had already lost five precious years to him and his manipulations.
Atsumu gulped, on the verge of crying himself. That soft heart, so deeply wounded… — Mani…pulations? Did he…?
She nodded like a child, trying to wipe away her tears and erase any traces of her crying. — He was capable of distorting reality and bending it to his will. Every time, when he took the words I just spoke, his tongue twisted in a peculiar way, curling around the syllables. What used to come out was… my guilt for existing. I wish I had met you sooner, ‘Tsumu! — Her delicate hands clung to his clothes as she tried to bring their faces closer. — I never realized how cruel he was, because I just wanted to make his life better and stay by his side, and now I regret everything, because it’s his fault that I can’t remember or tell you some of the most important events of my life. I run the risk of having my tongue twist like his did, persecuting my loved one’s happiness with this jinx.
Tears were streaming down both of their faces. But Atsumu was smiling. Bitterly, but still. And kept caressing the round cheeks of his sweet, tender beloved. — Let’s exorcise him. Tell me about what ya did when ya were that young.
She froze. Her breath caught up in her throat, tears still attached to her lashes. — You… you’re not scared of the curse? Babe, I don’t want to ruin our lives by making the same mistake I once made.
— But this time’s different, amore-chan. — He tenderly pinched her cheeks, kissing the tip of her nose with unparalleled love, capable of severing all contact with the outside world. — Because I’m next ta ya, and we’ll shoo this nasty thing away from yer soul once and for all. We’ll exorcise it together. And then… we’ll close this memory box and go get yer favourite ice cream.
For a second, a tiny laugh muffled her sobs. Her laugh, that precious gem, was about to come back more beautiful than ever. — Ice cream… before dinner, ‘Tsumu? What about your diet?
— It can all go to hell. I just want you to be happy and free.
Nothing could comfort her more than that freedom she had so longed for, the one that was now coming her way. So, the woman talked about her girlhood and how difficult it was interacting with people when every kind of connection (personal, friendly, professional) made her feel alienated. School had been harsh; her friends disappeared at the slightest opportunity. How lonely she had felt, and that Kouji had managed to access her brain, move her from the inside to suit his own desires. He had changed the order of things, creating a frankenstein monster that was unlovable to anyone… except Atsumu.
And he stayed, and listened to her. For every moment she mentioned, there was a photo of her in some nice place, her pouting, those same eyes dull but full of love for others …or almost always. There he was, the douchebag ex, in almost every photograph; in the others, there were her family members. Every mentioned photo and moment went straight back to the memory box. Atsumu had finally the chance to take a closer look at the beautiful sketches, complimenting her artist, and read some paragraphs of those letters that moved him… one, two, three… every time he read one.
That little girl had such a big heart that every emotion, sensation and whatnot had already passed through her at least once. And he loved her so much for that, too. She was such a serious, mature woman.
They stayed still for a while, in the middle of the room, on that soft fluffy rug; Atsumu by this point had started gently massaging the soreness and heaviness out of her dame’s body.
— You’re still in for ice cream? — she whispered, glazing up to study his face.
The man laughed and brushed her hair out of the way. — And what about the dinner ya mentioned earlier, huh?
A guilty smile. — Ever since you mentioned it, I’ve been thinking about iittt…
The two lovers, their hearts now light, went out to get their well-deserved dessert. The car ride was quiet, her favourite CD playing in the background and their hands intertwined on the gear shift.
— I love you. — she said out of the blue. Her free hand kept caressing her baby bump, lost in thought.
He lit up hearing it. The light shone on their faces with witty confidence.
Atsumu had no time to reply. Nor to react, or even understand what was about to happen.
A car hit them head-on, sending the young couple against a lamppost with such a violence.
The night quietly watched the scene.
The curse was real.
set fire to the rain - adele
When Atsumu woke up, he found himself lying in a hospital bed. Kiyoomi Sakusa, for reasons unknown even to Kamis, sat there with his legs crossed, his black face mask in place and his brows furrowed as usual.
Still goofy under anesthesia, Atsumu tried to sit up and get a closer look at him. — Yer my guardian angel, or… Kamis sent ya ta judge me?
Kiyoomi didn’t reply. — How are you feeling, Miya?
— Tired. — His stomach growled. — Mh. Hungry.
— No shit. — Kiyoomi looked around, as if he was anxious. Which was stupid because he definitely wasn’t in an hospital bed. Atsumu, on the other hand… — Your face. Chest. Legs.
— Did I lose my leg? — he slurred.
— No, Miya.
— My chest? Did I lose my chest? With the treasure?
— You definitely lost two precious things. — Kiyoomi snarled. — One is your brain.
Atsumu looked at him in silence. — The other one?
Kiyomi froze. — My patience.
— But I don’t keep yer patience with me.
— That’s exactly how you lost it. Miya, focus! — His slender fingers slapped in front of his dumb face. — How. are you. feeling.
— Like I’m missing somethinWHEREISSHE!
Atsumu tried to jump out of the bed. He was wide awake now. Which was good, but also bad. Really bad. Kiyomi had to physically restrain him from doing anything crazy.
— SAKSA GETTHAFUCK OUTTAMAHWAY! NOW!
— NURSE! HE’S TOUCHING ME! — Kiyomi screamed like a girl, making Atsumu freak out even more. He started shaking him by the shoulders. Neither of them noticed how much Atsumu himself was shaking.
— Where is she. WHERE ARE THEY! SAKUSA WHAT THE FUCK! WHY THE FUCK I’M HERE!
Nurses arrived as if it was a party. Probably a pity party.
Amidst the shouting and a good dosage of sedatives, Atsumu collapsed against the matress, half-dead and half-dead. Kiyoomi left during the fight with the nurses and his location wa unknown. Atsumu began to cry, softly sobbing in the white room, all alone.
He couldn’t recall a single thing. Just him, her and the craving for ice cream. Which only explains why he was hungry: not the hospital, or the sudden disappearance of his fiancé. Which was pregnant. Which surely meant something, but he didn’t have the strength to fight sedatives and soft pillows and wet tears anymore.
He closed his eyes.
Atsumu didn’t sleep. He just kept sobbing, tossing from one side to the other side and then starfishing and then
— Miya, — that voice again. Atsumu opened his puffy eyes to see the upset expression on Kiyoomi’s face.
Snot was trying to do an ugly thing to Atsumu’s face, so the man gave him a kleenex, retracting as soon as the blonde thanked him.
— What do you remember? — Kiyoomi spoke softly, taking his previous seat far from the bed. — Is your brain that messed up?
— Concussion? — he cried again, using the same tissue to wipe away the tears. Kiyoomi pitied him enough to give him another kleenex. — Is that why I feel stuck?
— You tell me.
— I… don’t think so. — Kiyoomi frowned again. — I know there’s something. I’m just… tired. Drugs are drugging too much in my opinion.
Kiyoomi blushed. — That’s what you get for trying to hit me.
Atsumu frowned, shocked. — I didn’ hit ya! What in the flying fuck Sakusa?
— What?
— I didn’ hit ya! Yer stupid? Did ya hit yer head?
Kiyoomi batted his long lashes. — I bet so. I must be dead.
— Why did I think yer my guardian angel…
— Atsumu.
That caught his attention again.
— There’s something I have to tell you before sedatives wear off.
Kiyoomi reported what the doctors and paramedics had told him. About the car accident, how the drunk driver had missed the brakes and accidentally sped up. He had hit the window with his whole face and literally no one knew how the hell he managed to do so. They were both still alive but his fiancé was in critical condition. The run to the hospital was crazy as Atsumu kept waking up screaming like a horror movie in loop (they almost had a second accident). He was fine, just needed a nose job and some stitches and to chill a bit, but she was…
— When I went to the bathroom to sanitize my whole persona, — Kiyoomi fell silent when Atsumu sobbed again.
— Ya just wanted ta… sanitize? Ya didn’ abandon me on purpose! Well ya didn’ abandon me in the first place!
He sighed heavily. — Since you should know… yeah, I’m your friend… and for some reason, your emergency contact.
— Fer a good reason since yer there.
Kiyoomi shut his mouth. — I guess so.
Atsumu looked like he wanted to say something, but Kiyoomi silenced him with a glare.
— Atsumu I have to tell you what the doctor told me.
— A doctor talked ta ya? A plague doctor!
— Atsumu Miya, I swear to God!
A nurse came in, but he shushed her.
— No more sedatives, he’s even more freaky when drugged.
— I didn’ flirt what d’ya mean I’m-
— The surgery ended twenty minutes ago, you stupid bitch shut up I’m trying to be serious!
Silence fell easily, and settled heavily. Atsumu suddenly felt like crying. No. Screaming. No. Puking. Definitely puking on an empty stomach. He felt cold. Fever. No. Fear. Yes.
He didn’t like silence.
Kiyoomi was usually silent.
But still,
they both hated that silence.
When she woke up, the sunrise peaked curiously from the window, and Atsumu had red, puffy eyes and the worst dark circles he had ever displayed.
He kept caressing her hand. The touch was grounding. She blinked slowly.
— May I say “goodmornin’”? — he laughed, humorlessly. — It’s been a hell of a night.
She smiled softly, still drugged up. Then she noticed. It was all so strange. Like a dream. Too real and unreal at the same time.
— I remembered everything with Kiyoomi. He’s still here. And Samu’s too, and yer parents. It won’t be easy from now on.
She furrowed her eyebrows. Confused. Stuck. Her tongue felt so heavy. She suddenly recalled the comparison made the night before, but shooed the memory away.
— Babe- no, wait. No pet names. — He shook his head and called you by your name. Anxiety suddenly spiked up, just like a monitor next to you did. You hadn’t noticed it until it bipped too loud, too annoying. — We had a car accident last night. I gotta tell ya, no one understands what— his golden eyes became glossy, his voice cracked. — What I’ve been through. It won’t be easy.
She opened her mouth. Slowly. Tried to talk. She had only uttered a syllable of the sentence when she coughed so hard that Atsumu gasped and tried to grab some water. She suddenly noticed them. The stitches. On his scalp, on his face. The big plaster on his nose, the bruises hidden in the sinus area. You coughed harder.
— Please, easy, easy. The— words died on their way out. He handed her the glass of water, helping her sit up straight.
After a few gulps, she finally spoke. Quietly. Anxiously. — Atsumu.
He sat next to her, caressing her legs hidden under the covers. — Please. I need ta get it off my chest. Ya were right. Ya were right all along. We had the accident because of him, he-
Her heartbeat spiked up again as she saw him fall apart, spiralling out of control over all the things his brain had birthed during the night hours.
— A… a drunk driver hit us. I was so scared I kept waking up ta yell and passing out like I was a damn joke. Sakusa got scared as hell and ran all the way here and called ‘Samu and ma’ and yer parents… ya were critical… And I…
Her eyes shed caring tears. She ran her hand through his blond locks when he tried to hide his emotions against her thigh.
— We were…
She looked at her belly. It was weirdly flat.
— Ya were…
She hit him accidentally. He shot up like a soldier. His whole face was red and snotty, and she loved him anyway. And she panicked anyway.
— At-At- ‘Tsumu, why is- why am I— She was pointing at her belly, so flat. He just smiled like a wreak, as if he knew but couldn’t find the words. While she couldn’t. Find an explanation, nor the words. — Wha- wha- why- is she-
Atsumu touched his own stomach, and smiled so painfully, that the tears streaming down his face looked like fire.
— We lost her. Love, we lost her, love.
A stream of confessions left his mouth as he fell to his knees, admitting that he couldn’t tell if he did something right in order to protect them both, in order to be truthful about the whole situation, while all she could process was: nothing.
They hugged tightly, and when her arms clung to his neck she finally cried.
They’ve lost her.
— You were right-! Oh, Kamis, please forgive me fer I have sinned… I didn’t listen to the most smartest woman I know… and we got cursed… Kamis… we got cursed… I almost lost ya ‘cause I’m so stupid… and we lost her fer my stupidity…
The thought hit hard.
They’ve lost her.
complete mess (live from the royal albert hall) - 5sos
Osamu dropped them off when they both got discharged. Kiyoomi promised to stick around, just in case. Shouyo Hinata and Koutaro Bokuto visited them, and her friends as well. Their parents soon decided to give them space, like they got it- really got it.
Atsumu kept rubbing his belly. For some reason, he did that pointless thing and she didn’t find it in herself to inquire further.
She was silent. He kept excusing himself to go to the bathroom and cry his heart out. They were lucky they still didn’t have a room for the baby, otherwise he would have climbed up into the cradle and cried himself to sleep.
She was lost, really lost, and her emotions were stuck somewhere inside her. She tried to be strong for him. For some reason, it seemed as if they had switched personalities. She didn’t allow herself to mourn: she needed to look after his fiancé, before he attempted something stupid.
They were having breakfast. In silence. Just munching cereal on their day off. Their eyes were dull.
He kept rubbing his stomach. That tic was making her feel sick, the unknown reason was trying to kill her in her sleep.
She suddenly spat out: — Why are you doing it?
Atsumu stopped on his tracks. Slowly raised his gaze, meeting hers.
— Huh?
— You- you keep rubbing your belly. I don’t- I don’t get it. Why? Just- just why? Talk to me.
He smiled for a second, lowering his gaze to his stomach. He gasped a laugh. In a second, his boisterous cackle exploded full force, sometimes interrupted by hiccups. He hugged himself. Fell forward. Hit the table with his forehead. Kept laughing maniacally.
The scene was so scary that she froze. Honestly cube of ice in a mojito would have looked warmer and more alive, but no one cared.
— I-! I dunno! I keep doing this and I honestly dunno either! — She saw his face for a moment. Pale. He was crying again.
— I-I’m calling Omi-san— she almost rushed to the phone, but his sobs shattered her.
His pleas finally broke down the wall she had built without even noticing. — My baby… he took her away from us… I keep… thinking about him, about his eyes… I’ve never seen such envious eyes, I keep seeing him in my sleep! He’s mocking me fer not believing ya completely! And he’s right! I hurt ya so badly ya can’t even talk ta me properly! Yer ignoring me! It feels like we’re falling apart! I just really wanted that baby girl! I had just chosen the perfect name, and I never even got to hug her! — His fist repeatedly hit the table, and everything fell off. The cups, the open bottle of milk, their tears. — Our! whole! world! Shuttered! In one night! Ma’ kept telling me that I woulda changed overnight when I finally saw my baby, and that really happened! It’s just that no one knew this woulda happened! I just wanted-
Two arms enveloped him, touching his stomach in a stupid attempt at comfort. Soft sobs resonated in his brain, coming from his right ear.
— Please. — she whispered. — Let’s just… try again. I won’t let him get in the way of our family.
Silence fell. He tried to keep his sobs at bay, but his shoulders shook ever so slightly every now and then.
— I don’t want ta forget her. She already was my world.
She kissed the nape of his neck, stifling her cry to help him. All those days, crying every hour, and she had really seen him just now. — Please. I’ll give you what you want. Don’t hurt yourself.
— I don’t want another pregnancy right now. — he whispered. — I just wanted her.
— Are we over? — she whispered back, on the verge of a mental breakdown. — Are we this broken?
— We’re broken people, — Atsumu hugged her back, raising his arms to touch her despite the odd position. — But we don’t hafta break up.
She brushed his belly again. He relaxed. That comforting gesture did alleviate the stress.
— We should probably move to the new house.
Atsumu tried to look at her. She didn’t shy away. — Into a bigger house? When this one feels so empty?
— We need to change something. — She moved to sit on the ground. The stitches hurt a bit, but with her baby bump out of the way it was easier. (That kind of thought kept hurting her.) — It’s like- part of the process for breaking the curse. Starting anew again.
Atsumu looked at her. Then he moved, moved the chair to sit with her. On the floor. Like last time, a week prior.
— I could ask Omi fer advice.
— About what?
He avoided the question just by looking into her eyes.
— We should move. — she repeated.
Atsumu nodded. — I’ll call everyone.
They kept looking at each other. They were numb inside, but their glossy eyes were different from before. The love, the words, were real.
They hug again, grasping their lives again.
— It doesn’t have to be the same. — she murmured, rubbing her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.
Things got a little bit better. Their friends helped them to find and move into a new house. Their parents reappeared, and the couple confronted them about the issue. It was depressing but helpful. Her parents admitted having lost two children before her, and Atsumu’s mom talked non-stop about miscarriages and faults and “wanting to kill that man” for fifteen minutes.
That wasn’t pleasant, but it was helpful. Don’t ask them how. They don’t know either.
But Kiyoomi did help though.
She was with her friends, dining in some fast food restaurant, and he was with the Black Jackals, dining in some other fast food restaurant. Their nutritionist was already planning a mass murder.
Atsumu was sulking again. Kiyoomi, sitting near him (don’t worry there was an empty seat between them), decided to lend a hand. Figuratively speaking. — Atsumu.
He just mhh-ed at him.
— Speak with words, caveman.
The corner of his mouth rose slowly. — Mh. Omi-kun, help me. I have a dilemma.
— Weirdly enough, I do believe you.
Atsumu looked at him, deadly serious. — She told me about an ex-lover, the night of the accident. I can’t tell ya much, just that she says he’s a curse and he had cursed us when she told me about it. I saw him in the photos, I swear on all the Kamis in the sky, by his face in the photos she might be right.
Kiyoomi scrunched his face as though it were a sketched drawing gone wrong. — Ew… people.
— Yeah. And I didn’t believe her, consequently we ended up in the car accident.
— You can’t be serious-
— I’m dead serious.
— I can tell.
They kept looking at each other.
— So?
— So what?
— Tell me what should I do! She said he’s a curse, I didn’t listen to her, and now… we’re…
He gulped. Slowly. — I don’t think I’m… the right person to talk to.
— Why! Why not! Ya believe in- in invisible things that no one sees but ya!
— …I don’t believe in ghosts?
— Germs! I was referring to germs!
— Miya. Just. Just what the fuck. Change your brain.
Atsumu batted his lashes, silent. — Ya may be right.
Kiyoomi snarled, hitting his salad with enough force to catch Shouyo’s attention. — About what. Cerebral surgery?
take my hand (joshua tree vers) - 5sos
The couple was walking towards their new home. A garden, soft flowers that needed constant care, and them. In what looked like a mansion.
— I want a kid. — he exploded. She looked at him like he just bombed her beloved moon in order to show his love for her.
— I thought you didn’t want one?
— Let’s try adoption. — he smiled slightly, contemplating something in his head and projecting it a few meters forward on the sidewalk. — I don’t want another pregnancy so soon. But we’re empty. I want ta give happiness ta someone that needs some. And on the one hand, ya need happiness, on the other hand I know I can’t give it t’ya.
Her lower lip trembled.
— But… I really need a child. We need… we need our happiness. We deserve a family. — and then, a tender addition. — I know this is what we need.
Their hands swung, fingers intertwined. Atsumu looked at her. She was contemplating the sight, and for the first time in weeks she looked… content.
— We deserve our little family.
— And we could always try.
— In a few… years?
— I mean, we’re still young.
— Yeah.
— And a child sure is a big commitment.
— Yeah.
— But we were so ready.
— Is this a yes?
— But the loss was devastating.
— Is this a no?
— I needed some time. — she nodded. — To elaborate. One thing’s for sure, I’m cursed for life.
Atsumu sighed. He hated to admit it, but it was true.
— So let’s just forget it all.
— Okay, I’ll set fire to my search history.
— I will delete his name. — she declared, looking at him with kindness. — And we’re going to be happy with the new children we’re planning to have. Give me the adoption papers.
Atsumu looked so flabbergasted that she laughed. That precious gem was back in their life.
— I-I-I- we haven’t even been chosen! Slow down, lady, ya just shot me!
Kiyomi, Shouyo and Koutaro rang the doorbell. Osamu opened the door. He looked pretty content with the boy trying in vain to tackle him (his pants looked a little too low on his waist, though).
— Is that yours? — Kiyoomi pointed at the child, disgusted.
Osamu shook his head, inviting the guests in. — Nope. Best friends with the prince.
Shouyo smirked. — One day you’ll have yours.
Kiyoomi wanted to puke, but he didn’t dare.
The three of them walked through the noisy house, looking for the garden.
There it was: the happy family. It had taken them years to smile like that, but they were finally feeling safe in their lives.
Atsumu looked at his friends. His hair was shining (was it green?), but he couldn’t care less. A little boy was running in circles, screaming about a denied swim that could cause a “diplomatic incident”.
Lots of colors adorned the garden. Flowers, decorations, everything was shiny and bright, everyone was happy.
— Guys! You’re late! — her voice chirped as she moved closer to hug everyone but Kiyoomi (he had asked her not to). Her hair had yellow ribbons knotted directly on her head.
Koutaro, mimicking a stylist, glanced at her new accessories and moved his hand in a funny way. — Girl, you’re fa-bu-lous. I need you to bring those kind of vibe at the function.
Shouyo jumped high. — I want those too! Please! I need colours in my life!
— Shut up, your existence is already painfully evident. — Tobio Kageyama (please note that blue ribbon styling his hair in a ridiculous ponytail) roasted him before kissing him on the head, watching the children running after a clown. — Welcome back.
She laughed, shaking her head. — Charlie Clown will give you one if you ask nicely.
A loud gasp from the ground. — Uncle Sho!!
Koutaro looked at the boy as though he had personally insulted him. The child looked nothing like his parents, but no one cared. — I’m! Offended! You said hi to the youngest uncle first! Did they even try to teach you good manners?
The boy cackled happily. — I KNEW YA WOULDA SAID IT!
They all looked so happy. They ran somewhere in the grass, Shouyo slipped and painted his white shirt green.
Kiyoomi grimaced. She looked at him.
— Do you want an untouched ribbon?
— …let’s make the Miya family happy.
Two hours later, Atsumu had only drank a bottle of beer but he was the loudest between the kids. No one dared to scold him. Not even the kids.
— IT’S ANNOUNCEMENT TIME! BABE C’MHERE!!
She took a tiny little girl with her. She looked identical to that woman whose embrace safely kept her swinging in the air. Atsumu hugged them before pulling a weird tube out of nowhere.
Someone gasped. Their friends tried to get closer, and even the little toddlers stopped in their tracks to watch.
— We’re having another baby!
And before anyone, even his wife, could process it, he took action. The tube exploded. Pink powder everywhere.
Everyone cheered, but the father cheered louder, already crying. This man really had swapped personalities with her woman, and she loved him for that.
— ’S A GIRL! KAMIS- I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! ANOTHER PRINCESS!
The little girl babbled happily, and he nodded too.
— Yesss! My girl gets it!
Osamu got closer. Atsumu, all laughs and muffled cries, tried to hug him. He shoved his twin in the pool behind him.
And the wife did nothing but laugh and try to join him in the water. Luckily only a kid (their kid) threw himself in the pool, or else they would have been reprimanded by no less than the entire police station, but… everyone knew their kid. He looked nothing like his parents, but he did take after his dad some (all of his) personality traits.
The Miya family was a complex concept. There had been losses, victories, lots of laughters, lots of tears. But, the cool thing was, things had moved on. Since the accident. They still thought about their lost first love, but Kamis blessed the lovers with a beautiful boy they got to grow together, and not one, but two beautiful girls. Atsumu didn’t need to see their second-born to know it.
The curse? Banished from existence. The ex? Deleted from their memories.
Just like that, their lives were filled. Responsibilities, efforts, the voices of their children being the first thing they would hear in the morning and the last thing they would hear at night… before having to wake up because their two years old girl had made the babymonitor screech at two in the morning. Oh did she love to do it every night. And Atsumu being a girl’s dad had to take care of it.
As Atsumu swam clumsily around the pool, he looked at his little family sharing the moment with the right people. That heaviness in his chest finally eased.
He took his wife’s hand and kissed her in front of their son, who, like uncle Omi, gagged at displays of affection.
And they lived. Happily. Ever after. Which should not be assumed. And Atsumu never did.