Archive of Our Own

Atobe stared at the letter in his hand, eye twitching as he read the names that were written across it in lovely, scrolling handwriting. 

Atobe Keigo and Irie Kanata are invited... 

Because a week ago they were still together.

Annoying, really, but the invitation must have been sent over a week ago from where Byodoin and Tokugawa were in Europe.

It wasn't a personal attack.

Atobe sighed dramatically and handed the invitation to his assistant. “See that I have those days cleared for my friend's wedding.”

The woman nodded and headed off to do so, leaving Atobe to sulk and linger on the recent break up. His eyes drifted to the invitation in his assistant's hand as she retreated. 

Atobe Keigo and Irie Kanata. Even the handwriting had paired them neatly together. 

Kanata would have made some kind of joke about it, if he'd been there. Something self-deprecating and sideways that somehow managed to land warmer than a straightforward comment ever could. Atobe could never figure out how he did that. 

But it was over now.

He'd been the one to initiate the end. Again. He was always the one initiating it when they broke up, and then Kanata always did something to lure him back in. 

The cycle had to end. This time he wasn't going to go back to Irie. He'd made up his mind. 

It was just the rest of the world didn't seem to believe him at all. 

People that knew kept asking him when he'd be getting back with Irie, laughing about it like it was a joke with a familiar punchline.

People who didn't know... Well, they didn't know that he and Kanata were ever more than friends. They'd never made it public at all. So those people continued on like things were normal. 

Like Atobe wasn't suffering in his own way.

It was exhausting. 

Sanada had been absolutely insufferable. The man had called him up to ask about something only to ask with his usual bluntness “so when will you two be getting back together?” when Atobe mentioned his breakup. 

“We're not.” Atobe had replied. Sanada hadn't seemed to believe him. 

The group chat afterwards had been even worse. Someone, that someone being Yukimura (of course), had sent a simple message in the group chat stating “Again, Atobe?”.

The reactions had been so undignified. Joking comments. Laughing emojis. An actual poll with options that ranged from two weeks to by New Year's, with no option for permanently this time, I mean it. 

Atobe had not responded to the poll. He had however kept an eye on the chat to see if someone, anyone, would stand up for him. 

No one had. 

Even Tezuka had voted for one month. 

The thing about Atobe Keigo was that his pride was everything to him. He would absolutely be at the wedding. Avoiding it would be cowardice in his eyes.

Irie had known this the moment Atobe had declared they were through, because Tokugawa had told him about the pending wedding months in advance. 

He'd had time to prepare. He wouldn't be going in blind. This was a rehearsed act, not improv.

Keigo would be there, impeccable and unbothered and performing the exact same act Irie was. Which was fine, they were both adults. This wouldn't be their first time in the same room together while broken up. 

It was just that this time Keigo had ended it for no reason that Irie could deduce, and that made the whole thing feel... Unbearably real. 

It would have been easier if Atobe were just the type to avoid things. 

But Irie knew Atobe Keigo wasn't that type of man. 

The call had come three months ago. Irie had just been finishing a rehearsal when his phone buzzed with Tokugawa's name. It had been unusual enough that he'd stepped off to the side to take the call.

“Houou and I are getting married.” Tokugawa had reported, with the same energy as someone reporting a change in the weather. “In June. You'll come, right?”

In the background he could hear Byodoin's voice, slightly muffled. Ask if he's still dating Atobe.

Tokugawa relayed the question easily enough. “You're still dating Atobe, right?”

Irie answered yes. At the time it had been the truth. He and Atobe had still been together, for their longest run of ‘together’ yet. Things had seemed good. 

And then three months later the ‘together’ had ended, and Irie was left holding that memory like a prop from the wrong production. 

The worst part wasn't even the end. Irie understood endings. He'd performed countless endings professionally. He knew how they worked. 

No, the worst part was not seeing the unguarded moments of Keigo’s life anymore. The man conducted himself so carefully in public, so perfectly, that the moments that he let go had become something Irie had been trusted with specifically. Something not on public record. Something valuable. 

He missed it. 

Atobe noticed Irie the moment he arrived for the ceremony, because of course he did. The universe had a cruel sense of humor sometimes. 

Kanata was standing near the entrance engaged in a lively conversation with Oni. He hadn't spotted Atobe yet. 

Atobe looked away with purpose. Casual. Complete indifference. He zeroed in on Tezuka instead, going over to greet him with practiced, appropriate words. 

He couldn't really remember what those words were after the fact, but he knew that they were appropriate for the situation. He was always appropriate. 

And not thinking about Irie at all. 

Tezuka meanwhile was behaving perfectly normal, totally indifferent to the struggles Atobe was facing. He greeted his old friend with the same measured composure as ever. 

“It's been more than a month.” Atobe couldn't resist pointing out.

Tezuka blinked. “Ah. You were upset by the poll.”

“Ore-sama was not upset. I merely expected better of you than to participate in such a rude activity.” Atobe replied.

He positioned himself at a slight angle as he spoke, barely noticeable. Just angled enough to give him a clear view of Irie, still talking to Oni at the entrance. 

He was sure there was a good reason for it, he just didn't know what that reason was. 

Tezuka frowned but said nothing. That was a small blessing. A small blessing that didn't go very far, because a moment later Echizen Ryoma appeared, walking up to join them both like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

He was wearing his baseball cap with his suit. Atobe was minorly appalled. 

“Hey Monkey King.” Ryoma nodded his head at him. “You're not being very subtle about watching your ex, huh?”

“I can't believe you're wearing your baseball cap to a wedding.” Atobe replied, diverting the topic back into safe territory. He was not going to be discussing how he was or was not keeping an eye on what Irie was doing. 

Tezuka remained silent.

Ryoma shrugged. 

“Tokugawa-san said it was fine. I'll take it off for photos.”

“See that you do.”

Ryoma shrugged again. “Anyway, don't make up with Irie too soon. I have ten thousand yen on you lasting till next month.”

Atobe stared at the boy. 

“You're betting on me!?”

“Yeah. Buchou is too.” Ryoma pointed to Tezuka, who just sighed in the way a man who had been forced to join a ridiculous betting pool would. 

Atobe was going to say something scathing in response to that, he hadn't really decided on what that would be, but he knew it would really put Echizen in his place... But he didn't have the chance. The ceremony was approaching, and Ryoma was already walking away to join the wedding party. 

Kanata was too. Not that Atobe was watching him. 

He was here for Byodoin and Tokugawa. To celebrate a joyous occasion. Perfectly appropriate reasons to attend a wedding. 

He was not here to think about Irie Kanata. 

He found his seat, sitting down gracefully and looking at the wedding program in his hands. 

Lovely scrolling handwriting, the same as on the invitation. 

Atobe Keigo and Irie Kanata are invited...

He turned the program over. 

He was fine. 

Irie was ready. Absolutely ready to step in front of his audience and show them just how okay he was. How unaffected he was by Atobe Keigo tossing him out like old garbage. 

It was just another performance for him. He adjusted his tie for the third time. He knew his lines. He knew his cues. He'd been running this scene over in his head for weeks. 

He looked over at Tokugawa. The man looked nervous. Happy, but nervous. That made sense to Irie. 

He went over to adjust Tokugawa's tie this time. 

“Are you ready?”

Tokugawa was quiet for a moment in the way he was always silent. Silence was just his natural state, words were just something to be applied sparingly with Tokugawa. 

“Yes,” He admitted finally. “I've been ready for a long time.”

Irie smiled. He said nothing. He just let Tokugawa continue. 

“Houou and I...” Tokugawa paused. “...We wasted a lot of time pretending what we had wasn't real. Running from the truth. I don't regret it all, because it brought us here, but-” He paused again. “-There's a point where you have to stop moving away from something and decide it's better to move towards it instead.”

He said it so normally. Like he hadn't just reached right into Irie's chest and rearranged something. 

“Right.” Irie replied, forcing a smile. Not letting the act stop because he didn't want to ruin Tokugawa's day with some kind of breakdown. 

Tokugawa looked at him with that steady, unreadable gaze. “Atobe is here.”

“I know. I spotted him earlier.”

“As long as you know.” Tokugawa replied. “...Let's go.”

And so they went. 

The ceremony was, well, beautiful. That was the only way that Irie could describe it. Byodoin and Tokugawa standing across from each other, each looking at the other like the rest of the room didn't exist, saying things that sounded like they'd been true for years. 

Irie got through it with his professional smile plastered across his face. 

He did not look at Atobe once. 

Twice. 

He looked twice. 

After the ceremony Atobe resolved to focus on what was really important; tracking down the people who were betting on him getting back with Irie and letting them know that they were wrong. That it very much was not happening.

Luckily, he had a good idea who was responsible for all tbis. 

He approached Yukimura with purpose, keeping a cool look on his face. 

Yukimura didn't even seem to notice him at first. He was too busy smiling and chatting with Sanada, a flute of champagne in hand like he wasn't only eighteen still.

Atobe cleared his throat. “Yukimura.”

Yukimura turned to him, smiling pleasantly. “Atobe! Isn't this a lovely wedding?”

“You started a betting pool.”

“I organized a betting pool.” Yukimura corrected, with the quiet satisfaction of someone who took pride in their work. “There's a difference.”

Atobe stared. Yukimura shrugged. His smile didn't waver. 

“I have you down for two weeks from now. I'm being optimistic about it.”

“That is not-” Atobe stopped, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. “That is not the point. The point is that I would have expected better from someone I consider a friend.”

Sanada frowned at him questioning Yukimura’s status as a friend, but Yukimura just patted his back before replying. 

“Kabaji bet on three months from now. He said you seemed pretty serious about ending it this time.” Yukimura helpfully offered up at the mention of friends. 

Atobe's eyes bugged out a bit. “Even Kabaji!?”

“Quite a few of your old team, actually. Did you want a list of participants to bother about it?”

“...Yes.” Atobe grumbled, watching as Yukimura went to jot down a list of names on a paper napkin before handing it over to Atobe. 

At least a few of the participants were in attendance, he'd have to start with them. He could deal with Yukimura later. 

Tanegashima and Shiraishi were the first people on the list he located. They were over by the buffet, chatting happily with each other while Kirihara was pretty much draped over Shiraishi's shoulder. 

Atobe wasn't really surprised, but he figured the dynamics of whatever relationship those three had was none of his business. 

“Tanegashima. Shiraishi.” He greeted them dryly, holding up the napkin. “You're both on the list.”

Tanegashima lit up immediately. “Atobe! Great wedding, right!?”

He said it like he had no idea what was coming. Or maybe he just didn't care about what was coming. That was equally likely. 

“You bet on my personal life.”

“I bet on a sure thing.” Tanegashima corrected. “There's a difference.”

Atobe's eye twitched. That was the second time someone had made that correction today.

Shiraishi at least had the decency to look a little apologetic. “To be fair, it's just supposed to be a little bit of fun. And you do always make up with Irie...”

“That doesn't make it okay to bet on me!”

Shiraishi made a thoughtful sound, like he was filing that information away for later. And Kirihara, who had been listening in on the conversation, looked to Tanegashima with curiosity. 

“There's a betting pool? On what?!”

“On when Atobe and Kanata are going to hook back up!” Tanegashima happily declared. 

Kirihara looked delighted. “Oh! I want to get in on this!”

“Absolutely not-”

“Two months!” Kirihara cut in. “I'm saying two months!”

“We'll go let Seiichi know to put you down.” Tanegashima agreed. 

Atobe stormed off before he could witness any more of this nonsense.

Kimijima was next. He was standing off to the side with Toono, as well as the towering forms of Ochi and Mouri. None of the others were on the list, and he almost decided not to approach just in case he accidentally got one of them join the betting pool too.

In the end he decided it was worth the risk.

“Kimijima.”

Kimijima looked at him. “Atobe.”

“You're on the list.”

“I'm aware. I have you down for by the end of the night.” Kimijima responded smoothly. 

Atobe stared. 

Kimijima held his gaze without any discomfort. 

“...The end of the night.”

“The reception ends at eleven.” Kimijima replied.

Atobe had nothing he could stay in response to nonsense like that. 

Toono made a sound that was technically not a laugh. He was clearly working very hard not to just howl with screeching laughter in the middle of his friend's wedding reception. 

Atobe turned to look at him, unimpressed. 

“Don't glare at me. Kimijima is the one betting on your stupid little thing with Irie!” Toono snapped, indignant. “And you know he's doing it to piss Irie off and not you, right!?”

That somehow pissed Atobe off more. He just didn't want to be dating Irie, that didn't mean he wanted to sit back and watch other people antagonize him. 

He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Ochi, looking down at him. 

“You really ought to talk things through with him.” The intimidating man suggested. Atobe scoffed and turned to leave. 

He had nothing to say to Irie at this point. 

Irie was sitting at the main table at this point, thinking over the beautifully planned speech he'd prepared and definitely not watching Atobe's strange behavior. 

...Why the hell did Atobe keep approaching groups of people, raging about something all on his own, and then leaving!? 

No, that wasn't any of his business now. Irie looked back at his champagne flute with conviction. He had more important things to focus on. Like ensuring Kazuya had beautiful memories to hold on to for the rest of his life! 

That was his goal tonight! 

Irie stood and adjusted his jacket, clearing his throat as if he'd done this a million times. Which he had, honestly. With far larger audiences than this. 

This time mattered more to him, though. He had to get this performance perfect. 

He held up his glass. 

“If you'd excuse me, everyone, I'd like to make a toast to our grooms!” He began, voice carrying throughout the hall effortlessly. Never underestimate vocal training. He'd learned this early in his career. 

“I've known Tokugawa Kazuya for a very long time. Long enough to know that he's one of the most stubborn men I've ever met!”

Warm laughter echoed through the room. Irie smiled. He had them in his thrall. 

"Kazuya is the kind of person who decides something and then commits to it completely. Immovably. With his entire being." A pause for effect. "Which made it very interesting to watch him spend years deciding that what he felt for Byodoin Houou was absolutely nothing worth acting on."

More laughter. Byodoin's expression from across the room was dangerous and delighted in equal measure.

“But here's the thing about Kazuya...” Irie let his voice drop slightly, really pulling in the crowd. “When he finally stops running from someone, he doesn't do it halfway. I saw this firsthand in Turin. He was determined to win over Byodoin. Nothing was going to stop him, no matter how long it took.”

He looked at Tokugawa for just a moment. 

“It was inspiring, really. The most beautiful and terrifying thing I've ever watched someone do.”

The room had gone quiet. Irie didn't let it bother him. It meant that they were all engrossed in his performance. He pressed on. 

“Byodoin...” He looked at the man, raising an eyebrow. “I don't like you much.”

The crowd laughed, delighted with his honesty. Irie continued forward.

“I don't like you, but I really respect how you owned up to your mistakes when we were in Turin. You chose him... Loudly, inconveniently, and on live television.” His voice stayed even as he spoke. Performative. “You decided what you wanted, and that you weren't afraid, and you went for it.”

He raised his glass. 

“There's a lot of courage in that. Realizing how you feel and deciding to do something about it. Refusing to let go. Refusing to let things stay complicated.” He smiled his best smile, the one that looked warm from every angle. “Kazuya. Byodoin. You are proof that stubborn people make the most loyal ones.”

“To the grooms!” He declared loudly. “And to having finally stopped running!”

The room drank. Irie sat down, set his glass on the table, and looked at absolutely nothing in particular. 

He could swear he felt Atobe looking at him from across the room. 

He did not look back. 

For the record Atobe hadn't meant to stare at Irie. It was just... That speech had sounded a bit more like a personal attack on him than he liked. 

So what if he didn't want to refuse to let things stay complicated? So what if he'd decided he wanted out instead of forcing his way forward!? 

That was his choice to make. 

He decided he was done with the reception. He'd rather head back up to the presidential suite and get some rest. 

Before he could move to leave, however, Byodoin Houou stepped in. He was newlywed, objectively horrifying, and totally without shame as he stepped in the middle of the reception floor and pointed at him. 

Actually pointed. With his finger and everything. 

“Atobe.”

The attention of the room shifted to the more... hairy of the grooms. When Byodoin Houou spoke, people listened. 

“Dance with Irie.”

Not as a suggestion. Not a request. It was clearly intended as an order, delivered by a man who had just gotten married and felt absolutely invincible because of it. 

Atobe could feel every set of eyes in the room on him. Somewhere in his peripheral he could see Yukimura looking pleased. Ryoma wasn't even pretending not to watch. And Toono had totally given up on his little no-laughing project. 

“Byodoin.” Atobe began. “This is your wedding reception.”

“I'm aware.” Byodoin replied. “Dance with Irie.”

“I don't see why I should.”

“It would make Kazuya happy. We owe Irie a lot, after all.” Byodoin replied simply. 

Atobe looked at Tokugawa, who was standing beside Byodoin with an expression that made it clear he hadn't asked for this. But he also didn't seem inclined to stop it. 

Atobe huffed. See if he ever gave life altering advice to you on the beach again! Or let you pet Beat! 

Atobe straightened his jacket. 

“Fine.”

Irie was tempted to just refuse, since it was Byodoin demanding he dance, but when Oni nudged him towards the floor he decided that maybe it was just better to play along.

He stepped forward calmly, offering Atobe his hand. 

“Well then, shall we?” This was all just another part of the act. He had to show everyone he was fine. 

The problem was, Irie had danced with Atobe many times before. He knew exactly how it worked, from the way Atobe's hand settled on his back like it belonged there, to the way Atobe led without making it apparent he was leading. 

It felt natural. Irie hated it. After everything he'd been through - the breakup, rehearsing being unbothered, that toast he'd delivered moments before - stepping into this still felt familiar. Like coming home. 

He kept his composure. He was an actor. He could pull this off. 

“That was quite a speech.” Atobe commented dryly as they went through the motions. 

“Thank you.” Irie replied, “I worked hard on it.”

There was a pause, and they turned with the music. Atobe's hand was warm on his back, but Irie was not thinking about that. He was counting the moments until the song ended. 

“The part about refusing to let things stay complicated.” Atobe stated it conversationally, as if he was discussing the weather. “That wasn't about Tokugawa, was it?”

Irie looked at him. 

Atobe looked back. 

“It was a wedding speech.” Irie pointed out. “Of course it was about Tokugawa.”

“Kanata.”

Just his name. Said in that quiet register that didn't belong to the public version of Atobe Keigo at all. 

The performance flickered. Irie bit his lip. 

“It was mostly about Tokugawa.” Irie amended.

The music was still playing, but Irie was done. He stepped off the dance floor, and Atobe followed him smoothly. That was always how it had worked between them, one moved and the other came. Muscle memory again. 

The others all watched them go. Nobody said a word. 

They found a terrace off the main hall where they would have some privacy, the sounds of the reception muffled behind glass doors. Irie leaned against the railing and looked out at the city of Kyoto. 

He didn't look at Atobe. 

“You followed me.” He observed. 

“You knew I would.” It was the truth. 

Irie said nothing. 

Atobe was quiet for a moment in a way that was completely unlike him. It wasn't performative silence, just... actual silence. When he spoke, it came out without theater. 

“It was getting too real.” He spoke. “That's why I had to end things. Not because I wanted to, I just...” He stopped, starting again. “I don't do things halfway, Kanata. And I could see where our relationship was going. So I stepped back before it could go any further.”

Irie turned to look at him, flabbergasted. 

“That is... An absurdly stupid reason to break up.”

“I'm aware.”

“You ended it because it was going too well!?”

“...Yes.”

“Keigo. What the fuck?”

“I know.”

Irie looked back at the city, laughing quietly to himself even though his boyfriend breaking his heart for such a dumb reason really wasn't funny at all. It was the opposite of funny. 

“I didn't know why you ended it.” Irie confessed. “I kept going over it in my head and couldn't find any reason other than you just not wanting me!”

Atobe at least looked extremely guilty. 

“It wasn't you. You were completely wonderful. Wonderful enough that it terrified me.” Atobe sighed. “Breaking up with you was the easy way out.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“You're an idiot.” Irie accused. 

Atobe nodded in agreement, like he was conceding to losing a chess match. “I know.”

Irie pushed himself back from the railing and crossed his arms, looking as put upon as possible over this turn of events. He glared right at Atobe, not breaking eye contact now. 

“So what do you plan to do about it?”

Atobe held his gaze. “I want to reconsider my actions.” He declared. “I want to choose you. On purpose.”

Irie was quiet for a minute. 

“...That's going to pay out for a lot of people.”

Atobe's brow furrowed. “You know about the betting pool? “

Irie smirked. “Of course I know. There's always a betting pool when we break up.”

Atobe huffed. “Well then, did you know that Kimijima is going to be the one collecting the pot?”

Irie stared at him. “Kimijima?”

“He bet on tonight.” Atobe casually informed his boyfriend. Irie bristled. 

“That smug, obnoxious film actor-” He forced himself to breathe. “He is going to be completely insufferable about this.”

“Presumably.”

“He's going to bring it up at every U17 reunion for the rest of my life!” Irie's expression was painful. 

Atobe nodded. “You're definitely right.”

Irie looked at him. “You're way too calm about this.”

“I'm choosing you on purpose.” Atobe pointed out. “I honestly don't care at all what Kimijima thinks of the whole matter.”

Irie felt his heart skip a beat. Damn, that was smooth, Keigo. 

The performance was gone now. It was just them that remained, two men who were uncertain of the future, but willing to face that future together. 

“Fine.” Irie agreed. “But I want to note that it's deeply irritating that you decided you wanted me back on the day that will give Kimijima the win.”

Atobe's mouth curved. “Duly noted.”

They had to go back inside eventually. After all, it was Tokugawa’s wedding, and Irie needed to be there to support his friend. Regardless of what happened on the terrace. 

And so the couple returned to the reception together. They didn't make a big announcement about it or anything. They just walked through the doors, no longer performing. Just together. 

The room noticed immediately. 

Toono made a sound that was, this time, definitely a laugh. A high pitch, annoying cackle. 

Kimijima adjusted his glasses and met Irie's eye, smirking. 

Irie looked away before he could do something undignified at his own best friend's wedding reception. Atobe, beside him, surveyed the room with the expression of a man who had no regrets. 

Yukimura, being Yukimura, chose that exact moment to stand up. 

“Alright.” He announced to the room with the pleasant authority of a man who had been waiting for this moment. "It looks like we have our winners."

He consulted the napkin- the same napkin, Atobe noted with fresh irritation, that he had handed over earlier as a list of people to confront.

It had apparently been doing double duty as a ledger.

"Kimijima... tonight." Yukimura confirmed. "Congratulations."

Kimijima inclined his head graciously. Irie looked like he was reconsidering several life choices.

"And Tezuka." Yukimura turned. "Also tonight, if I'm not mistaken."

The room shifted. Atobe turned to look at Tezuka very slowly.

Tezuka stepped forward and collected his winnings with the same measured composure he brought to everything in life. Not a single flicker of expression.

"You bet on tonight," Atobe said.

Tezuka said nothing. He pocketed his winnings while Ryoma came over to congratulate his former captain.

“Mada mada da ne, Monkey King.”

"Tezuka." Atobe wasn’t letting this go.

"Congratulations, Atobe," Tezuka said, with complete sincerity, and walked away.

Irie pressed his lips together very hard.

"Don't," Atobe said.

"I'm not doing anything," Irie said, doing something.

Atobe looked at him. Irie looked back. The something became a real smile, quiet and unperformed, the kind that didn't belong to any role he'd ever played.

Atobe looked away first, which was unusual enough that Irie filed it away as something valuable. Something not on public record.

Irie paused  "Keigo."

"Mm."

"Next time you're terrified." Irie said. "Tell me instead."

Atobe was quiet for a moment. Then, in that register that didn't belong to anyone but Irie:

"Next time I'll try."

Across the hall, Byodoin Houou leaned into his husband's shoulder, satisfied in the way of a man whose meddling had paid off exactly as intended.

Tokugawa Kazuya said nothing.

He had voted two weeks.