Archive of Our Own

It’s not that Shouyou is hiding it.

Really.

It’s just that this is his first relationship, and he’s still trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do with it.

Because apparently there are rules to these things now.

Rules like—telling your friends.

Which Shouyou fully intends to do, eventually. Probably. Once he figures out how to casually bring up the fact that he somehow ended up dating The Miya Atsumu.

Unfortunately, “I’ll say it when I’m ready” is not really a strategy that works when your boyfriend refuses to keep quiet.

Shouyou starts to realise it during one of their routine calls, those half-lazy, half-distracted ones where Shouyou is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, and Atsumu’s probably doing something else entirely while talking.

“...and then ’Samu goes, if ya say ‘my boyfriend’ one more time—”

Shouyou blinks, eyes widened.

“…your what.”

Atsumu doesn’t even pause.

“My boyfriend.”

There’s a full two seconds of silence.

“…Atsumu-san.”

“Yeah?”

“…who did you say that to?”

Atsumu hums, thinking. Actually thinking, like there’s a list he has to scroll through in his head.

“’Samu, obviously. The team—well, not all of ‘em. Oh, I also told Kita-san.”

Shouyou sits up so fast he almost drops his phone.

“YOU TOLD YOUR TEAM???”

Atsumu pulls the phone away slightly from his ear.

“Why are ya yellin’—”

“YOU TOLD YOUR TEAM???”

“It came up!”

“HOW DOES THAT COME UP??”

Atsumu shrugs, like it’s obvious through the phone, even though Shouyou can’t see it.

“They asked why I keep goin’ outta my way to check Karasuno matches.”

Shouyou chokes. Actually chokes.

“So you said—”

“—that my boyfriend plays there, yeah.”

It was silent again, a few seconds longer this time.

“…you can’t just say that.”

Atsumu frowns. He sounds genuinely confused.

“Why not?”

And somehow that makes it worse. So much worse.

“Because—because—” Shouyou flails, words not keeping up with his panic, “I haven’t even told my team yet!”

There’s a pause on the other end

“…oh.”

Atsumu breathes. “Ya didn’t tell ‘em?”

Shouyou makes a noise that is half frustration, half despair.

“I was going to!”

“When?”

“Soon!”

Atsumu snorts. “It’s been, what, months?”

It has. Almost three, to be exact.

“I KNOW—”

Shouyou drags a hand down his face. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just—I don’t know how to say it, okay?!”

Because who could blame him, really? It’s his first relationship.

And he’s only sixteen.

Well. Technically seventeen in two days, but that doesn’t feel particularly useful right now.

Atsumu goes quiet for a second. “…so what, I’m a secret?” He says, teasingly.

Shouyou freezes, panicking.

“NO—no! That’s not what I meant!”

He sits up straighter, gripping his phone tighter like that’ll somehow make his point clearer.

“It’s just—this is my first, okay? I don’t know how to just say it like you do!”

Then immediately. “I wasn’t trying to hide you. I just needed time.” 

Atsumu exhales. Shouyou can hear the tension leave, just a little.

“Fine,” Atsumu says after a moment. “But for the record, I ain’t takin’ it back.”

Shouyou groans, dropping back onto the bed.

“Of course, you can’t take it back. You already told them—”

“Exactly.”

Shouyou flops back onto his bed, covering his face.

“I hate you.”

“No, ya don’t.”

Shouyou doesn’t say anything for a moment, until—

“…no, I don’t,” he admits, ears burning and voice muffled against the pillow.

Shouyou has been unusually giddy lately—so giddy that the entirety of Karasuno has noticed.

Well, to be exact, they noticed weeks ago.

It isn’t obvious at first. If anything, it’s the subtlety that makes it more noticeable. The way Shouyou checks his phone more often at the locker, during breaks, even sneaking glances during classes. The way he smiles at the screen like whatever’s there is the best thing he’s seen all day.

He can’t help it.

Atsumu told him he’d be visiting during the first week of summer break, which means tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Shouyou has already started counting down the hours.

He knows he should probably tell his mom and Natsu first. About the visit. About Atsumu. About the fact that Atsumu is—well, his boyfriend.

He hasn’t told them yet.

But he will.

Probably.

The team notices all of this, obviously. At first they let it go. Hinata is… Hinata, after all.

Their concern only really starts during the last practice before break, when Kageyama asks him to stay late for extra practice and Shouyou—shockingly—refuses.

“I can’t,” he says, already halfway off the court. “Someone important is visiting tomorrow, so I gotta prepare!”

And just like that, he bolts out of the gym.

He heads straight to the locker room, checks his phone, replies to a message, smiles, and then he’s gone before anyone can stop him.

There’s a pause.

Yamaguchi looks like he’s thinking very hard about something.

“Do you think—”

“Don’t,” Tsukishima cuts in immediately.

Yamaguchi ignores him anyway.

“Do you think he got himself a girlfriend?”

Tsukishima groans.

“Or maybe a boyfriend?”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Tsukishima says, visibly irritated.

The rest of the second-years hum thoughtfully.

“…he’s always kinda hard to understand,” Kageyama mutters. “Maybe this is just… one of those things.”

“I think,” Yachi says carefully, “maybe it’s better if we just… don’t question it too much.”

“…yeah,” Yamaguchi agrees after a moment. “Let’s go with that.”

Because if it’s about Hinata—

They’ll find out eventually.

Probably in the worst way possible.

Shouyou is practically vibrating by the time he gets home.

It’s not obvious—he’s trying very hard to act normal, after all—but there’s a restless energy in the way he drops his bag quickly and checks his phone before even taking off his shoes.

One new message.

Atsumu

train tomorrow morning. probably get there around lunch

don’t miss it

Shouyou

i won’t

Atsumu

u sure?

Shouyou

I AM!!

Shouyou huffs. How could his boyfriend doubt him?

…Then again, the fact that he hasn’t even told his mom yet might be a very good reason. Not that he likes that thought.

Right.

He needs to do this. He can’t have Atsumu show up without telling his family first. That would be a disaster—and he doesn’t even want to imagine it.

He locks his phone and goes to find his mother, gathering whatever courage he can force together.

“Mom,” he starts.

She glances at him, immediately concerned. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to explode.”

“I’m not—okay, maybe a little—but that’s not the point.” He fidgets, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “So, um… someone important is coming over tomorrow.”

“Oh?” she says easily. “A friend from the team?”

“...not exactly.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Shouyou immediately regrets everything.

“I mean—he is from another team, technically, but—” He exhales and tries again. “He’s visiting. From Hyougo.”

Now she’s paying full attention.

“And his name?”

“...Miya Atsumu.”

She raises her brows slightly.

“And he’s…?”

Shouyou opens his mouth, closes it, then tries again.

“...my boyfriend.”

The word feels strange out loud. Not wrong—just unfamiliar, like something he hasn’t practiced saying yet.

From the doorway, Natsu leans in immediately, eyes lighting up.

“YOU have a boyfriend?”

Shouyou startles. “When did you get here?!”

“Just now,” she says, absolutely not subtle. “You never told us that!”

“I was going to!” Shouyou defends quickly. “I just—I didn’t know how to bring it up!”

His mom hums, thoughtful, but there’s no judgment in it.

“And he’s coming here tomorrow?”

“…yeah.”

She smiles, small and warm. “Well, you should’ve said so earlier. We’ll make sure there’s enough food.”

Shouyou blinks.

“That’s it?”

“What else should I say?” she replies lightly. “You seem happy.”

Of course, he is.

Natsu, on the other hand, is not done.

“What’s he like? How long have you been dating? Does your team know? Why didn’t you tell me first—”

“ONE AT A TIME—”

Atsumu starts packing three days before the trip.

Not because he needs three days. Because apparently checking the same bag four separate times in ten minutes counts as preparation now.

Jersey. Charger. Extra clothes. Gifts for Shouyou’s family. Still there.

“Will ya sit down already?” Osamu groans from the top bunk.

“I’m sittin’.”

“Yer pacing.”

Atsumu ignores him completely, already checking his phone again.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he finally gets to see Shouyou properly after months of calls, messages, and shitty signals during practice breaks.

Almost half a year of talking.

And three months of actually dating.

Now he’s going to Miyagi. To Shouyou’s house. To meet his family.

Atsumu thinks he’s handling it pretty well.

Osamu strongly disagrees.

“Yer smilin’ like a creep.”

Atsumu looks up immediately, deeply offended. “I got a boyfriend.”

“…ya say that every ten minutes.”

“And?”

“And I’m thinkin’ about legally sewing yer mouth shut.”

Atsumu gasps dramatically. “Ya want me to stop talkin’ about Shouyou-kun?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fucked up.”

Osamu throws a shirt directly at his face.

“JUST FINISH PACKING AND GO TO SLEEP.”

Atsumu laughs, tossing it aside before reopening his bag again anyway.

“He said there’s this bakery near his house that’s really good,” he says, like it’s classified information, “and apparently his little sister wants to meet me.”

That lands differently.

Osamu pauses.

Meeting the family.

After three months of dating.

After almost half a year of knowing each other.

That’s… fast.

Even for Atsumu.

“Ya nervous?” Osamu asks eventually.

Atsumu stills for a moment, then shrugs like the answer should be obvious.

“Course I am.”

That surprises Osamu more than anything else. Because Atsumu doesn’t usually get nervous like this. Not for people.

“You’ve been datin’ him for three months,” Osamu says carefully.

“Yeah,” Atsumu says, quieter now, “but we’ve known each other for almost half a year. This’s different.”

He glances down at the shirt in his hands, then laughs under his breath like he can’t believe himself.

“I’m finally gonna get to see him properly.”

A pause.

Then, softer—

“I’m finally gonna get to touch him.”

Osamu regrets having ears.

“…God.”

“No, seriously,” Atsumu continues, completely earnest in a way that makes it worse. “Didja know how hard it is datin’ someone long-distance?”

“I knew this conversation was gonna become disgusting eventually.”

Atsumu throws another shirt at him without heat. Osamu catches it and drops it aside.

“Just don’t scare the poor guy away when ya get there.”

Atsumu looks offended on principle.

“Why would I scare him away?”

“Yer entire personality.”

“Shouyou-kun likes my personality.”

“…somehow.”

Atsumu grins immediately at that, bright and stupidly fond. Osamu watches him for a second.

Almost half a year. Three months officially.

And he already talks like this.

That night, long after the room goes dark, Osamu still hears rustling from the lower bunk.

“…yer still awake?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

A pause. 

“…too excited.”

Osamu exhales into his pillow.

“Just hurry up and go already,” he mutters. “I need peace.”

Atsumu only hums into the dark.

Because tomorrow he finally gets to see his boyfriend.

Shouyou gets to the station too early.

Of course he does.

He checks the time, then his phone, then the arrivals board like staring hard enough will make the train arrive faster. He shifts on his feet, bouncing slightly on his toes.

What if he misses him? What if Atsumu already got off? What if—

“Hey.”

Shouyou turns so fast he almost trips.

Atsumu is standing a few steps behind him, a bag slung over one shoulder like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“…you’re late,” Shouyou says automatically.

Atsumu raises a brow. “I’m five minutes early.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah.”

They just look at each other for a moment, like they’re both checking if this is real. Then Atsumu exhales, steps forward, and flicks Shouyou lightly on the forehead.

“Ow—hey!”

“Missed me?”

Shouyou scowls. “No.”

Atsumu grins. “Liar.”

Shouyou huffs, but it doesn’t last. Not when Atsumu is right there, close enough to touch after months of phone calls and messages and grainy photos sent between practice breaks.

“…you took too long,” he mutters.

“Train exists, y’know.”

“I know that.”

Atsumu reaches out without thinking and tugs lightly at Shouyou’s sleeve. “Relax,” he says. “I’m here.”

It warms somewhere inside Shouyou, because all the waiting, all the messages, all the distance—it collapses into that one simple fact.

He’s here.

Shouyou exhales, shoulders finally dropping.

“…yeah,” he says, quieter. “You’re actually here.”

Atsumu snorts. “Where else would I be?”

Shouyou rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling again. “My house. You’re supposed to meet my mom.”

Atsumu pauses.

“Wait—really?”

“…yeah?”

Another pause.

Then Atsumu smirks. “Wow. Took ya long enough.”

Shouyou’s face goes red immediately. “Shut up—”

“Months, Shouyou-kun.”

“Don’t start!”

Atsumu only laughs, easy and loud, and nudges him forward. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

The walk to Shouyou’s house is louder than it should be, mostly because Shouyou won’t stop talking.

“You didn’t tell me exactly what time you were arriving. What if I missed you? I was already there twenty minutes early—”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Atsumu says dryly. “Ya looked like you were about to fight the train schedule.”

“I was not.”

“Ya were.”

Shouyou scowls, but it doesn’t stick for long. Not when Atsumu is walking beside him like this is normal. Like they do this all the time.

By the time they reach the house, Shouyou hesitates for half a second at the door before pushing it open.

“I’m home!”

Footsteps come from inside, followed by the faint sound of something being set down.

“Welcome back—” his mom starts, before stepping into view and pausing when she sees the extra person.

Shouyou straightens instinctively. “Uh—this is—”

“I’m Miya Atsumu,” Atsumu says easily, stepping forward like he’s done this a hundred times. “Sorry for comin’ on short notice.”

Shouyou’s mom blinks once, then smiles. “Oh! So you’re Atsumu. Welcome. I wish I had known earlier. I would’ve prepared more.”

Shouyou immediately stiffens. “I did tell you!”

“You told me yesterday,” she replies calmly.

“...I said I was going to tell her,” he mutters to Atsumu.

“And you did,” his mom adds lightly, saving him without making a big deal out of it. “Just not very far in advance.”

“Is that him?” a voice calls from behind her.

Natsu appears almost instantly, eyes wide and sparkling with interest.

“Hi,” she says, way too loudly. “You’re the boyfriend.”

Shouyou chokes. “Don’t say it like that!”

Atsumu grins. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“You’re tall,” Natsu says, like that is the most important detail.

“Thank you,” Atsumu replies immediately, matching her energy without hesitation.

Shouyou presses a hand to his face. “I’m going to disappear.”

“You live here,” his mom reminds him gently.

“…unfortunately.”

Atsumu laughs.

And just like that, somehow, he fits.

Not perfectly. Not without Shouyou nearly combusting every time Natsu asks a question. But he fits enough that lunch passes without disaster, enough that his mom laughs when Atsumu compliments the food too seriously, enough that Natsu starts asking him about volleyball before Shouyou can stop her.

Later, when Shouyou escapes to his room under the excuse of grabbing something, Atsumu somehow finds himself alone in the kitchen with Shouyou’s mom.

“Sorry about earlier,” she says, hands moving through the dishes. “I really didn’t expect him to bring someone home this soon.”

“It was kinda last minute,” Atsumu says.

“That’s what I gathered.” She glances at him with a small, knowing smile. “Imagine how surprised I was when he told me yesterday that his boyfriend was coming.”

Atsumu’s expression doesn’t change much, but something shifts behind it.

“He was nervous,” she continues. “Kept pacing before he said anything. I thought something was wrong.”

Atsumu huffs softly. “That sounds like him.”

She laughs a little. “He said you’re important to him.”

Atsumu looks at her properly now.

“…he did?”

“Mhm.” She dries her hands. “So thank you.”

He blinks. “For what?”

“For coming all this way,” she says simply. “For taking him seriously.”

Atsumu scratches the back of his neck, suddenly a little less composed than usual.

“I mean… yeah. Of course.”

She smiles again, softer this time. “I’m glad he told me. Even if it was a little sudden.”

Atsumu lets out a small breath, something easing in his chest.

For the first time since arriving, he thinks he understands.

Shouyou is nervous, yeah. Terrible at saying things, obviously. But he told her. He paced and panicked and probably looked like he was about to explode, but he still said it.

Atsumu can work with that.

He finds Shouyou’s room half-open and knocks anyway.

“Hey.”

There’s a muffled shuffle inside. “Yeah—come in!”

Atsumu pushes the door open to find his boyfriend kneeling on the floor, surrounded by what looks like an attempt at organising that has failed halfway through.

“You redecoratin’ or just makin’ a mess?”

Shouyou looks up immediately. “I’m not making a mess. I’m trying to clean before you get here.”

“Before I get here?” Atsumu repeats. “I’ve been here for, like, an hour.”

“That doesn’t count! You weren’t in my room yet!”

Atsumu huffs a laugh and steps inside properly, closing the door behind him.

For most of the week, that’s how it goes.

They stay home more than Atsumu expected.

Not because Shouyou doesn’t want him there. That much is obvious in the way he keeps hovering close, in the way he drags Atsumu into the backyard to toss a ball around, in the way he keeps lighting up whenever Atsumu says something stupid just to make him argue back.

They watch some volleyball matches on Shouyou’s floor. They help Natsu with passing until she declares Atsumu less annoying than Shouyou, which Shouyou takes as a personal betrayal. They make a mess in the kitchen once and are banned from helping with dinner for the rest of the week.

It’s good.

It’s warm.

It’s private in a way Atsumu doesn’t mind at first, because Shouyou is happy here. Bright and restless and easier than he ever sounds over the phone.

Then, near the end of the week, Shouyou finally takes him to the bakery.

“There’s melon bread there that’s really good,” Shouyou says, walking half a step too fast down the street. “And the curry bread sells out fast, so we have to go before lunch.”

Atsumu watches him from the side, amused. “Ya sound like yer takin’ me on a mission.”

“It is a mission. Food is serious.”

“Sure,” Atsumu says, grinning. “First date mission.”

Shouyou nearly trips.

“It’s not—” His face goes bright red. “I mean, it could be, but—shut up.”

Atsumu laughs, delighted.

He thinks that’s all it is at first.

First date nerves.

Cute, embarrassing, very Shouyou.

And honestly, it makes sense. This is Shouyou’s first relationship. His first boyfriend. Maybe being out together like this feels different from sitting shoulder to shoulder in his room or tossing a ball around in the backyard where no one is watching.

So when Shouyou glances around as Atsumu walks too close, Atsumu only grins to himself.

Cute, he thinks.

When Shouyou lowers his voice after Atsumu says something about buying extra for “my boyfriend’s family,” Atsumu tells himself Shouyou is just flustered.

Cute.

When their shoulders brush and Shouyou goes stiff for half a second, eyes flicking toward the people passing by, Atsumu notices.

Of course he does.

But he lets himself think it’s still cute.

Because Shouyou had waited at the station twenty minutes early. Because his mom had smiled and said, He said you’re important to him. Because Shouyou keeps looking at Atsumu like he still can’t believe he’s really here.

So yeah.

Maybe Shouyou is nervous.

Maybe Atsumu can be patient with that.

The bakery owner recognises Shouyou the second they walk in.

“Shouyou-kun! You’re early today.”

Shouyou straightens immediately. “Good morning!”

“And you brought a friend?”

Atsumu waits.

Just for a second.

He doesn’t mean to. He tells himself he doesn’t.

Shouyou’s mouth opens.

Then closes.

His face goes red.

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “This is Atsumu-san. He’s visiting from Hyougo.”

Atsumu smiles like normal. “Nice to meet ya.”

The bakery owner beams. “A friend from volleyball?”

“Yeah,” Shouyou says, a little too fast. “Volleyball.”

It shouldn’t sting.

It really shouldn’t.

So Atsumu tells himself it doesn’t.

And maybe it doesn’t.

Not yet.

They buy too much bread and eat it on the walk home. Shouyou talks the whole time, cheeks still stained with red, complaining about how Atsumu got powdered sugar on his shirt. Atsumu teases him until Shouyou shoves at his arm, laughing despite himself.

It’s fine.

It’s good.

It’s just one thing.

Atsumu lets it go.

On Atsumu’s last night in Miyagi, Shouyou is quieter.

Not by much. Just enough that Atsumu notices.

They’re in Shouyou’s room, Atsumu sitting on his bed like he owns the place while Shouyou pretends to look for something in his closet.

“…you’re really going back tomorrow?” Shouyou asks.

Atsumu shrugs, a little too casual. “Can’t afford to stay longer.”

Shouyou hums, but it sounds unhappy.

Atsumu watches him for a second, then remembers.

“Right, Shouyou-kun. Ya haven’t shown me yer new jersey.”

Shouyou looks back. “…huh?”

“The new number,” Atsumu says. “Ya mentioned it before.”

“Oh.” Shouyou brightens a little, then turns back to rummage through his closet. “Right. Wait.”

He pulls it out a moment later and holds it up.

Number seven.

Atsumu’s old number.

Something shifts in Atsumu’s expression before he can stop it.

“…put it on,” he says.

Then, immediately, he backtracks. “Only if ya want, of course.”

“Uh, sure.”

Shouyou doesn’t think much of it. He just starts pulling off his shirt.

Atsumu freezes.

“Wait—ya changin’ here?”

Shouyou pauses with the jersey halfway over his head. “Where else?”

Atsumu stares at the ceiling. “…yer killin’ me, Shouyou-kun.”

“What?”

“Nothin’.”

Shouyou pulls the jersey on and tugs it down, suddenly self-conscious under Atsumu’s attention.

Atsumu stands and walks closer, his hand brushing lightly over the number on Shouyou’s chest.

“Didja choose this on purpose?”

Shouyou hesitates.

“…yes.”

Atsumu looks up, smiling faintly. “Ya don’t have to lie. I know it was assigned.”

Shouyou flushes.

“…sorry,” he mutters. “Thought it might make you happy.”

Atsumu groans, covering his face.

“God, Shouyou-kun.”

“What?”

“What am I supposed to do if my boyfriend is this cute?”

Shouyou goes red all the way to his ears.

They stand there for a moment, both blushing like idiots.

Then Atsumu lowers his hand.

“…can I kiss you?”

Shouyou’s eyes widen.

Atsumu freezes. “Sorry. Was that too fast? I won’t do anything ya don’t want, I promise. We can go at your pace.”

“Atsumu-san,” Shouyou says.

Atsumu looks at him immediately.

“You can.”

He hesitates, voice smaller.

“…you can.”

Atsumu exhales slowly.

“Shouyou-kun,” he says, careful in a way he almost never is, “if ya say it like that, I’m gonna wanna kiss ya for real.”

Shouyou swallows.

“…okay.”

Atsumu cups his face gently, thumb brushing against his cheek before leaning in.

The first kiss is soft. Careful. Testing. Atsumu watches him the entire time, ready to pull away if Shouyou so much as tenses.

But Shouyou leans in.

So Atsumu stays.

The second kiss is warmer, less unsure. Shouyou clutches at his shirt like he needs something to hold onto, and Atsumu tries very hard not to lose his mind about it.

When they part, they just look at each other for a moment.

Then Shouyou leans forward and hugs him.

Atsumu lets out a quiet laugh, wrapping his arms around him.

“…miss me already?”

Shouyou presses his face into Atsumu’s shoulder.

“I miss you all the time,” he says.

Atsumu goes still.

Then his arms tighten around him.

For a moment, neither of them says anything.

“I wish I could stop time,” Atsumu mutters.

Shouyou’s fingers curl into the back of his shirt.

“…me too.”

Atsumu pulls back slightly, something soft settling in his expression.

“Then win the Spring High prelims,” he says. “So we can meet again.”

Shouyou looks up, eyes already burning with determination.

“Of course I will.”

Atsumu smiles.

God, he loves him so much.

Time flies strangely after that.

One second, Atsumu is lying awake at two in the morning, repeating all the things he and Shouyou did during the summer break visit to Osamu until a pillow gets thrown at his face. Then suddenly, it’s Spring High preliminaries. Suddenly, he’s invited to the All Japan Youth Camp again. Suddenly, it’s winter.

And suddenly, somehow, it’s Spring High Nationals again.

Atsumu’s last Spring High. His last one in high school.

And he’s never felt more certain of anything as he walks into the opening ceremony at the front of Inarizaki’s line with his teammates following behind him.

He wants this badly. A gold medal for Inarizaki. A final high school tournament worth remembering forever.

But also—

after months apart since summer break—

he finally gets to see Shouyou again.

Which means Atsumu is, understandably, unbearable.

“Can’t ya sit still?” Osamu mutters.

“How could I?” Atsumu shoots back immediately. “Look, ’Samu!”

Osamu does not want to look. Unfortunately, Atsumu keeps talking anyway.

“God, he’s even faster than last year.”

A beat.

“…ain’t he jumpin’ higher too?”

Another beat.

“My boyfriend is seriously amazing.”

“Mm.”

“They’re winning this for sure.”

“’Tsumu,” Osamu says flatly, “the match just started.”

“So?” Atsumu replies without hesitation. “They’re gonna win anyway.”

Osamu watches his brother beam through the entire match like Karasuno personally exists to make his life better, and annoyingly enough—

Karasuno wins.

Of course they do.

The second the match ends, Atsumu is already standing.

“Where are ya going?” Osamu asks, despite fully knowing the answer already.

Atsumu looks offended that he even has to ask. “Congratulatin’ my boyfriend personally,” he says. “And being the best boyfriend ever.”

Then he disappears into the crowd before Osamu can say anything else.

Osamu watches him go.

And honestly?

That should’ve been the warning sign.

Karasuno’s first match ends in chaos. Not bad chaos, though. Good chaos.

Nishinoya is yelling, Tanaka is yelling louder, and Ennoshita looks one deep breath away from collapsing from stress relief by the time they finally spill out into the hallway outside the court.

Shouyou is still buzzing from the match, adrenaline not fully gone from his system yet as the team slowly starts gathering their things. He’s halfway through responding to something Yamaguchi says when—

“Shouyou!”

Shouyou freezes.

Oh no. 

He knows that voice.

Slowly, very slowly, he turns around.

And there, standing a few steps away with a sports bag slung over one shoulder and absolutely zero shame in his body, is Miya Atsumu.

Smiling brightly.

Like showing up here is the most normal thing in the world.

For one horrible second, Shouyou genuinely considers sprinting away.

“…Atsumu-san,” he says weakly.

Atsumu grins wider immediately as he walks over. “Good game.”

Before Shouyou can react, Atsumu reaches up and ruffles his hair once, easy and familiar.

Karasuno goes noticeably quieter behind him.

Unfortunately, Atsumu either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care.

“Yer limping,” he says immediately.

“I’m not limping.”

“Yer literally limping.”

“I jumped like fifty times!”

“Yeah,” Atsumu replies easily, already crouching to unzip his bag, “and now yer knee looks ready to file a complaint.”

Shouyou watches in mounting horror as Atsumu pulls out a sports drink and a packet of jelly supplements like he’s done this a hundred times before.

“I brought the lemon ones,” Atsumu says, handing them over. “Yer favourite.”

Silence.

Not complete silence, but enough that Shouyou can physically feel it behind him.

Because that sentence means something. Something very, very bad.

Slowly, carefully, Shouyou turns his head just enough to glance back at his teammates.

Yamaguchi looks stunned.

Yachi’s eyes are wide.

Tanaka is openly staring.

And Kageyama—

Kageyama looks like he’s trying to solve a math equation against his will.

“…wait,” Tanaka says slowly after a dangerous pause. “You two know each other?”

Atsumu blinks once before laughing.

“Course we do.”

Like that’s the most obvious thing anyone’s ever asked him.

And then, because the universe clearly hates Hinata Shouyou personally, Atsumu throws an arm loosely around his shoulders and says—

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Silence.

Complete, devastating silence.

Shouyou stops breathing.

Somewhere nearby, Nishinoya makes a sound like his soul just left his body.

“…your WHAT?” he yells.

And then Karasuno explodes.

“YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!”

“MIYA ATSUMU?!”

“SINCE WHEN?”

“WHY IS IT HIM?”

“WHAT DOES THAT LAST QUESTION EVEN MEAN?” Yamaguchi shouts back immediately.

Shouyou opens his mouth.

Nothing comes out.

Beside him, Atsumu’s grin finally falters.

Just slightly.

His eyes flick across the stunned faces surrounding them before landing back on Shouyou.

“…ya didn’t tell ’em yet?” he asks.

And oh.

Oh no.

Because suddenly Atsumu sounds less confused and more hurt.

Tiny. Barely there. Hidden underneath amusement, surprise, and a laugh that comes a little too easily right after.

But Shouyou hears it anyway.

“No!” Shouyou blurts out immediately. “I mean—they were gonna know, I just—”

“What is this, Shouyou-kun?” Atsumu interrupts lightly, nudging him once with his shoulder. “I’m a secret?”

The words are teasing.

The smile is teasing.

But Shouyou knows him.

And he knows Atsumu enough by now to hear the tiny crack underneath it.

“No!” he says again, more desperate this time. “That’s not—”

“Relax,” Atsumu cuts in quickly.

Too quickly.

“I’m kiddin’.”

But he’s still smiling in that careful way people do when they’re trying not to let something show.

And somehow, that’s worse.

Around them, Karasuno is still loudly losing their minds, questions crashing over each other into complete chaos, but Shouyou barely hears any of it anymore.

Because Atsumu doesn’t look angry. Just quieter somehow.

Like something inside him pulled back half a step.

And Shouyou suddenly, horribly understands.

For months, Atsumu has been saying ‘my boyfriend’ like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like it belongs in every conversation. Like everyone should know.

Meanwhile, Shouyou still hasn’t figured out how to say it out loud first.

And now Atsumu knows.

The hallway outside Inarizaki’s section is quieter than the rest of the arena.

Not silent—Nationals is never silent—but quieter. The noise from nearby courts bleeds faintly through the walls, mixing with distant whistles and announcements overhead. A few of Inarizaki’s players are scattered around the benches lining the hallway, bags half-open at their feet while they kill time before tomorrow’s match.

Enough that Osamu notices immediately when Atsumu comes back alone.

No dramatic entrance. No loud retelling of Karasuno’s match. No “Shouyou-kun did ya see that receive?” every five seconds.

Just Atsumu dropping onto the bench with his bag at his feet and staring at nothing in particular.

Osamu pauses mid-drink.

“…thought ya were gonna be gone longer.”

Atsumu shrugs.

“Didn’t wanna bother ‘em before tomorrow.”

Which already tells Osamu something is wrong.

Because bothering Shouyou has literally never stopped Miya Atsumu before.

Across the hallway, a few teammates glance over curiously before returning to their own conversations. Atsumu stays quiet.

Weirdly quiet.

Osamu has known him his entire life. He knows all of Atsumu’s silences—angry silence, competitive silence, thinking-about-volleyball silence.

This one feels different.

This one feels heavy.

“…so?” Osamu asks eventually. “Met the boyfriend.”

Atsumu snorts softly.

“Yeah.”

“That bad?”

That finally gets a reaction.

Atsumu looks up immediately, offended. “What kinda question is that?”

“Yer face,” Osamu says flatly.

Atsumu opens his mouth, probably to deny it—then stops.

Because honestly, he probably does look miserable.

Which is stupid. Really stupid.

Shouyou didn’t do anything wrong.

Not really.

It’s just—

Atsumu leans back against the wall and exhales hard through his nose.

“They didn’t know,” he says finally.

Osamu blinks once.

“…who?”

“Karasuno.”

A beat passes.

“…none of ‘em?”

Atsumu laughs under his breath, humorless around the edges.

“Nah. Apparently I was the only idiot thinkin’ everyone already knew.”

The words come out joking.

Too joking.

Osamu hears it anyway.

And suddenly a lot of things make sense—why Shouyou always got nervous in public, why they stayed inside most of the summer visit, why Atsumu stopped sounding excited halfway through his texts earlier.

Osamu studies his brother for a long second.

“…ya think he’s ashamed of ya?”

Atsumu answers too fast.

“No.”

Which means he already asked himself the question.

The hallway settles into quiet again around them. Somewhere nearby, Suna laughs at something one of the first-years says. A volleyball bounces once against the floor before someone grabs it.

Normal sounds.

Meanwhile, Atsumu feels strangely hollow.

Because Shouyou loves him. Atsumu knows that.

He feels it every time Shouyou calls him late at night just to talk nonsense until they fall asleep. Every time he stutters after Atsumu says I missed ya, like being missed is still something he doesn’t know how to hold properly. Every time he says come visit again before Atsumu’s even boarded the train home.

So it’s not that.

It’s just—

Atsumu thought he was already part of Shouyou’s life.

Or maybe he is, just privately. Only in ways that don’t require saying it out loud.

“…hey,” Osamu says after a while.

Atsumu grunts in response.

“I ain’t gonna ask what happened.”

A pause.

“But whatever it is, let it out on court tomorrow.”

Atsumu finally looks at him.

Osamu jerks his chin toward the gym.

“Yer a captain now. Remember?”

Something in Atsumu’s chest tightens painfully.

Because yeah.

Tomorrow isn’t about this.

Tomorrow is volleyball.

And if there’s one thing Atsumu knows how to do with feelings too big to hold properly—

it’s hit harder.

Osamu sighs. He can feel his brother beside him hasn’t slept, hasn’t really relaxed since they got back to the inn. Atsumu’s been even quieter than usual ever since coming back from seeing Shouyou.

And honestly, that’s unsettling.

Because Osamu remembers exactly what Atsumu was like before this.

More specifically, Osamu remembers The Boyfriend Chronicles™.

Osamu has spent the last few months learning things about Hinata Shouyou entirely against his will. Not because he asked. God, no. Mostly because Atsumu physically cannot shut up about him.

At first, Osamu thinks it’ll pass.

The night Atsumu climbs onto his bunk at two in the morning just to announce—

“OSAMU.”

“What.”

“SHOUYOU-KUN SAID YES.”

—Osamu assumes this is temporary insanity brought on by sleep deprivation and unresolved psychological issues.

Especially because Atsumu grabs him by the shoulders right after and says, with terrifying sincerity, “I got a boyfriend.”

Osamu blinks. “…are ya sick in the head or something?”

Atsumu reacts like he’s been personally betrayed. “Just admit yer jealous.”

“I’m beggin’ ya to get off my bed.”

Unfortunately, things only get worse from there.

Because apparently dating Hinata Shouyou rewires Miya Atsumu fundamentally.

Suddenly every conversation somehow circles back to his boyfriend. Atsumu talks about him constantly, casually inserting him into sentences whether anyone wants him there or not, like Shouyou has permanently occupied part of his brain and now refuses to leave.

“My boyfriend likes this bread.”

“My boyfriend has a match today.”

“My boyfriend stayed up studyin’ late yesterday.”

“My boyfriend would definitely win against yer ugly ass.”

At some point, Suna finally asks, completely exhausted, “Why’s your boyfriend in this conversation?”

Only for Atsumu to stare at him in genuine confusion and answer, “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Even the girls in class start recommending gifts for him to send to his boyfriend, because apparently everyone has accepted this as part of the ecosystem now.

Anyway, it reaches critical levels during convenience store trips.

The cashier scans the bread in silence until Atsumu, for reasons only God and severe emotional damage understand, leans against the counter and says, “My boyfriend likes this one.”

The cashier blinks once. “…okay.”

“Chocolate fillin’ is his favorite. He says the strawberry one’s too sweet, but I think he’s wrong.”

Osamu closes his eyes.

“…good for you, I guess?” the cashier says carefully.

Atsumu lights up immediately. “Yeah!” Like the cashier just personally congratulated him on the greatest achievement of his life.

Osamu wants to die.

The cashier finishes bagging the bread with the haunted expression of someone who accidentally got trapped in another person’s relationship.

“Would you like a receipt?”

“My boyfriend says receipts pile up too fast, so nah.”

“…right.”

“Atsumu,” Osamu says flatly. “Please stop talkin’ to strangers about yer boyfriend.”

“He asked.”

“Nobody asked.”

The cashier nods immediately. “I didn’t ask.”

Atsumu ignores both of them.

“My boyfriend also likes this pudding.”

“Please leave,” Osamu mutters.

Then there’s the cat incident.

Atsumu crouches immediately the second he spots the cat near the vending machine.

“Hey, buddy.”

The cat blinks at him lazily.

“Hold on,” Atsumu says seriously, already pulling out his phone. “My boyfriend likes cats.”

Osamu keeps walking.

“Atsumu.”

“Wait.”

“Atsumu.”

“Shut up, I’m takin’ a picture.”

The cat meows once, and Atsumu nods immediately. “Yeah, exactly,” he agrees, like they’re having a conversation.

Osamu regrets being related to him.

Atsumu snaps three photos before immediately sending them off. A few seconds later, his phone buzzes. Atsumu gasps softly before turning the screen toward the cat.

“Look,” he tells it proudly. “My boyfriend says yer cute.”

The cat stares blankly.

Osamu stares blankly too.

“…I think ya need psychiatric evaluation.”

Atsumu ignores him completely, still talking to the cat. “He says yer ears are weird.”

The cat meows again.

“Yeah, I know, right?”

Osamu considers becoming an only child.

Honestly, by the week before Atsumu leaves for Miyagi to see Shouyou, the entire team looks exhausted every time the word boyfriend enters a sentence.

“You’re actually unbearable,” Suna tells him at one point.

Atsumu grins. “I got a boyfriend.”

“We know.”

“Shouyou-kun’s lettin’ me stay for a whole week.”

“We KNOW.”

Even Coach Kurosu eventually lowers his clipboard and says—

“Atsumu.”

Atsumu looks up immediately. “Yes, Coach?”

“You’ve said the word boyfriend thirty-six times since warm-ups.”

The entire gym falls silent.

“…seriously?” Atsumu asks.

“Yes.”

“…huh.”

Atsumu considers this carefully for all of two seconds before grinning again.

“Make that thirty-seven. My boyfriend would think that’s funny.”

A volleyball hits him directly in the back of the head.

So yeah.

Osamu had fully prepared himself for things getting even worse after Atsumu finally met up with Shouyou again.

More grinning. More “my boyfriend.” More unbearable behavior.

Instead, Atsumu comes back from seeing him quieter than Osamu’s seen him in months.

And somehow—

that’s worse.

The next day, Atsumu is as normal as ever.

Like nothing happened. Like the dejected version of him from yesterday was just a weird, shared delusion. Like he hadn’t spent the entire night too quiet, staring at his phone without actually typing anything.

Osamu watches his brother walk toward the court with the focus of someone who has decided the only acceptable place for his feelings is the court.

Which is, frankly, terrifying.

Across the court, Shouyou notices him immediately.

Of course he does.

Atsumu is laughing with his teammates, easy and loud and bright in a way that should make Shouyou feel relieved. He looks normal. Completely normal.

And somehow, that makes Shouyou’s stomach twist.

Because Atsumu doesn’t look at him.

Not once.

Usually, Atsumu looks. Usually, he grins. Usually, he makes it impossible for Shouyou to forget he’s being watched.

This time, Atsumu only takes the ball from the referee and walks to the service line.

Like Shouyou is just another player on the court.

Which is fair.

It is.

Shouyou knows that.

It still hurts.

The whistle blows.

Atsumu serves.

And the match starts.

From the first point, Inarizaki is terrifying.

Not louder than usual, exactly. Not flashier. Just sharp in a way that makes Shouyou’s skin prickle. Every set Atsumu makes feels clean enough to cut. Every serve comes over heavy. Every call he gives his teammates is bright, steady, certain.

He laughs when Inarizaki scores. He complains when Osamu misses a timing by half a breath. He grins at Suna across the net after a clean kill.

He looks alive.

He looks amazing.

He just doesn’t look at Shouyou.

Not the way he usually does.

So Shouyou plays harder.

It’s stupid, probably. Trying to make Atsumu look at him through volleyball is stupid, but knowing that has never stopped Shouyou before. 

He jumps higher, runs faster, throws himself into every opening Kageyama gives him, until his lungs burn and his legs ache and still, still, Atsumu only looks at him like an opponent.

A good opponent.

A worthy opponent.

Not his boyfriend.

Karasuno fights for every point.

Of course they do.

They claw their way back again and again, refusing to let Inarizaki run away with the match, refusing to make anything easy. Shouyou loves that about them. He loves this team so much it aches.

But every time Atsumu passes close enough for Shouyou to hear his shoes against the court, something in him twists.

Say something, he thinks uselessly.

Look at me.

Be annoying.

Be unbearable.

Be Atsumu-san.

But Atsumu only plays.

And in the end, Inarizaki wins.

The final ball drops on Karasuno’s side of the court.

For one second, Shouyou doesn’t move.

Then sound crashes back in all at once—Inarizaki cheering, the announcer overhead, someone from Karasuno swearing under their breath, someone else breathing too hard.

Across the net, Atsumu is already being grabbed by his teammates, shoved toward Osamu, laughing bright and breathless and victorious.

Shouyou watches him for one second too long.

Then Atsumu looks over.

Their eyes meet.

The smile on Atsumu’s face falters.

Just slightly.

Shouyou wants to say something.

Congratulations.

I’m sorry.

Please don’t look at me like that.

I’m not ashamed of you.

Nothing comes out.

The teams line up. Shouyou bows because he’s supposed to. He shakes hands because he’s supposed to.

When Atsumu’s hand closes around his, it’s warm and familiar and gone too fast.

“Good game,” Atsumu says.

Polite.

Steady.

Awful.

Shouyou’s grip tightens before Atsumu can pull away.

“Atsumu-san—”

But someone calls Atsumu from behind, and their hands separate.

Atsumu’s eyes flicker, just once.

Then he smiles.

Careful again.

“Later, Shouyou-kun.”

And then he’s gone, pulled back into Inarizaki’s celebration before Shouyou can say anything else.

Shouyou stands there, hand still half-raised, while the court empties around him.

Because Atsumu said later.

And for the first time since they started dating, Shouyou has no idea if later means soon.

For the first ten minutes, Shouyou tells himself it’s fine.

Atsumu said later. Later means later. Later does not mean never.

Probably.

He checks his phone anyway.

No new messages.

Which is fine. Atsumu just won a match. He’s probably with his team. He’s probably celebrating. He’s probably getting yelled at by Osamu for something completely unrelated.

Shouyou knows that.

He checks his phone again.

Still nothing.

“Hinata,” Yamaguchi says carefully, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” Shouyou says immediately.

Tsukishima looks at him. “That was terrible.”

“It was not!”

“It was one of your worse lies.”

Shouyou opens his mouth, then closes it again. His fingers tighten around his phone.

Across from him, Yachi’s expression softens.

“Is this about… Miya-san?”

The name makes Shouyou’s stomach twist.

For one second, nobody says anything.

Then Tanaka, very quietly and with visible effort, says, “I still have questions.”

“Not now,” Ennoshita says immediately.

“I know, I know, not now, but eventually—”

“I think I hurt him,” Shouyou blurts.

That shuts everyone up.

The words hang there, awful and heavy.

Shouyou stares down at his phone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, quieter. “I just… I think I did.”

No one tells him he didn’t. Maybe that’s worse.

After another minute of pretending he can stand still, Shouyou gives up.

“I’m going to find him.”

“Hinata—” Ennoshita starts.

“I know,” Shouyou says quickly. “I know we have to regroup. I know. Just—five minutes. Please.”

Ennoshita studies him for a second, then sighs.

“Five minutes.”

Shouyou is already moving.

He doesn’t know where he’s going at first. He checks near the court, near the hallway leading to Inarizaki’s side, near the entrance where people keep passing in waves. His phone stays silent in his hand.

By the time he finds Atsumu, it’s near the vending machines.

Of course it is.

Atsumu is standing there with his jacket half-zipped and his hair still damp, staring down at a lemon sports drink in his hand like it personally offended him.

Shouyou stops a few steps away.

“Atsumu-san.”

Atsumu’s shoulders tense.

Only for a second.

Then he turns, expression already smoothing into something easy. “Hey. Shouldn’t ya be with yer team?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

Atsumu looks at him for a long second, then laughs under his breath.

“Ya lost, y’know.”

“I know.”

“Could’ve played better.”

“I know.”

Atsumu frowns. “That’s where yer supposed to yell at me.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out too fast.

Atsumu goes still.

Shouyou grips his phone tighter. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell them.”

For a second, Atsumu doesn’t say anything. The vending machine hums softly beside them.

Then Atsumu looks away.

“I know ya weren’t hidin’ me.”

Shouyou’s throat tightens.

“I know that,” Atsumu says again, quieter this time. “But it kinda felt like it for a second.”

That hurts worse than Shouyou expected.

Because Atsumu doesn’t sound angry.

He just sounds honest.

“I wasn’t,” Shouyou says quickly. “I wasn’t trying to. I wanted to tell them. I did. I just—every time I tried, I kept thinking, how do I even say that?”

Atsumu glances back at him.

“How do I just say I’m dating you like that’s normal?” Shouyou continues, face burning. “Like I didn’t wake up one day and somehow end up with Miya Atsumu as my boyfriend?”

Atsumu stares.

Shouyou keeps going, because if he stops now he might never start again.

“It’s not because I’m embarrassed,” he says. “It’s the opposite. It’s because I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with it.”

Atsumu’s expression shifts.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like he’s trying to decide whether he heard that right.

“…oh.”

Shouyou laughs once, miserable and embarrassed. Atsumu looks down at the drink in his hand.

Then back at Shouyou.

“Shouyou-kun,” he says slowly, “ya know I’m just yer boyfriend, right?”

Shouyou stares at him.

“That is literally the problem.”

For a second, neither of them moves.

Then Atsumu laughs.

Not the careful one from yesterday. Not the too-light one from after the match.

A real laugh.

Small, but real.

Something in Shouyou’s chest loosens so suddenly it almost hurts.

Atsumu rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t need ya to tell everybody.”

Shouyou looks up.

“I mean, I’m gonna tell everybody,” Atsumu adds immediately, because of course he does. “But ya don’t have to.”

Despite everything, Shouyou almost smiles.

Atsumu’s voice goes softer.

“Just don’t make me feel like I’m the only one happy about it.”

Shouyou steps forward before he can think too hard about it.

“You’re not.”

Atsumu looks at him.

“I’m happy,” Shouyou says, louder than necessary. “I’m really happy.”

His face burns hotter.

Then, because he needs to say it properly, because Atsumu deserves to hear it from him first instead of having to drag it out of him by accident, Shouyou forces himself to keep going.

“I’m happy you’re my boyfriend.”

Atsumu stops breathing.

Actually stops.

Shouyou panics immediately.

“Was that weird? That sounded weird. I practiced in my head and it sounded less weird there—”

“Say it again.”

“No.”

“Shouyou-kun.”

“No!”

“Ya called me yer boyfriend.”

“Because you are!”

Atsumu’s whole face lights up.

It is devastating.

It is also deeply embarrassing.

Shouyou covers his face with both hands. “Don’t look that happy!”

“Can’t help it,” Atsumu says, delighted now. “My boyfriend called me his boyfriend.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yer boyfriend is impossible.”

Shouyou groans.

Atsumu finally steps closer, close enough that their shoulders almost touch, and holds out the lemon drink.

Shouyou blinks at it.

“I bought it before,” Atsumu says, looking away like this is suddenly the embarrassing part. “Was gonna give it to ya after the match.”

Shouyou takes it carefully, his fingers brush Atsumu’s. This time, Atsumu doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” Shouyou says softly.

Atsumu hums.

For a moment, they just stand there, close enough to hear the noise of Nationals around them but far enough from it that it doesn’t matter.

Then a voice from behind them says, “Oh my god.”

Shouyou freezes.

Atsumu turns.

Yamaguchi stands at the end of the hallway, eyes wide, looking like he deeply regrets existing.

Beside him, Tsukishima looks like he would rather walk directly into traffic.

“…sorry,” Yamaguchi says weakly. “Ennoshita-san said five minutes were up.”

Shouyou wants to evaporate.

Atsumu, on the other hand, brightens with horrifying speed.

“Oh good,” he says.

“No,” Shouyou says immediately.

Atsumu grins.

“No.”

“Yer friends should know—”

“They know!”

“—that I’m yer boyfriend.”

Tsukishima closes his eyes. “This is already exhausting.”

Shouyou makes a wounded sound.

Atsumu only laughs and bumps their shoulders together, easy and warm again.

And for the first time since yesterday, Shouyou lets himself lean back.

By the time Atsumu gets back to Inarizaki, he is glowing.

Osamu takes one look at him and closes his eyes.

“No.”

“Shouyou-kun called me his boyfriend.”

“I said no.”

“In public.”

“I’m transferin’ schools.”

“Yer graduatin’.”

“I’ll find a way.”

No one asked, by the way.

Atsumu tells them anyway.