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Atsumu didn’t care where he was going. He just needed Kiyoomi.
The faux blond fumbled with his phone, nearly missing the call button twice. After four grueling rings, the ravenette spiker finally picked up the phone. “Hello?” Kiyoomi asked, still groggy from having been woken up suddenly. All he could hear on the other end was loud wind and some garbled noises he didn’t understand. “Omi.. I need ya,” the setter pleaded, his voice barely making sense because of how hard he was crying and hyperventilating.
The ace sat up. He’d never heard his boyfriend so broken. Millions of questions ran through his mind, but the sobs on the other end of the line grounded him. “Atsu, are you okay?”
“No.. Omi, I need ye!”
In a blink of an eye, Kiyoomi found himself in his Itachiyama uniform for some odd reason, already starting his motorcycle. He sent a quick text to Motoya, saying he was skipping and to cover for him. “Atsu? I’m on my way, okay? Can you stay on the phone with me?”
“Okay..”
Shit. Kiyoomi hated hearing his boyfriend like this. “It’ll be alright, Atsu. I’m on my way, okay?”
Kiyoomi made the 2 hour drive from Tokyo to Hyogo in 30 minutes, running tons of yellow lights and slipping his motorcycle between cars. When he finally made it to the Miya household, it was around 4 in the morning.
“Tsumu, I’m outside. I’ll use your spare key, okay?” The key under the potted plant. The Miyas always kept it there in case someone forgot their keys.
“Mhm.”
“Omi!” Atsumu called out, happy to finally see his boyfriend. Kiyoomi practically ran into his room and hugged him. “Tsumu, are you okay? What happened? Why were you crying— do you need medical attention?”
The setter was immediately bombarded with questions, cutting his lover off with a giggle. “No, Omi. I’m.. fine.”
“Okay.. do you want to tell me what happened?”
“He..”
Kiyoomi’s mind raced. He, as in Osamu? Maybe Osamu killed his Tamagotchi? Or Osamu threw out something he was working on? Oh my god, OSAMU IS DEAD! THAT'S WHY HE’S CRYING!
“He touched me Omi!” Atsumu began crying again. His voice snapped Kiyoomi out of his head to comfort his boyfriend. “Hey, hey Atsu.. shh, it’s okay,” the spiker said to soothe his lover. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
The Party
Atsumu and Osamu were invited to a houseparty. It was a ton of Hyogo students, alcohol and drugs. Osamu bailed at the last minute to spend the night with Rintarou, which was why he wasn’t home at the moment. Atsumu ended up going alone. Better yet, there were almost no Inarizaki students at the party.
“Oh shit, we won!” Atsumu exclaimed. He was playing beer pong with some guy from Inarizaki he found, who probably hosted the party from how good he was at navigating the house and finding games. “Hell yeah! Let’s celebrate?” the guy asked. “Celebrate.. how? We’re already at a party,” Atsumu laughed. He was too tipsy to understand.
“Come on, there's an empty bedroom upstairs.”
“Oh, ‘m sorry, I’m taken.”
At first, the guy seemed to get it. He backed off and started talking to other people. Atsumu continued to party in the main room, grabbing more and more drinks.
“Hey! Wanna have some fun?”
The guy from earlier held the setter by his shoulder, arm slinging lazily down to his chest. Atsumu could tell the guy was hammered despite being under the influence himself, from how he slurred his words and moved sluggishly. “‘M sure I could give ya a good time..” he said as he dragged the blond to an empty bedroom upstairs.
Atsumu was irritated that this guy couldn’t back off. “What? I’m taken, dude.” Seriously, can people really not take no for an answer these days?
“C’mon, don’t be like that.”
“Dude, I said no.”
“Loosen up! ‘S a party!”
“Back off man, ‘m taken,” the setter said, snatching his hand away. “Seriously? I’ve been so nice to you all night!” The guy’s eyes darkened, grabbing the blond by the wrist and basically throwing him into the bedroom. Atsumu sobered up almost immediately.
“It’s my party, ye’ll do what I fuckin’ want,” he yelled, groping Atsumu’s package. it burns. it burns it burns itburnsburnsburnsburnsGET HIM OFF “W— wait, what the fuck dude?!”
Atsumu punched the guy in the face and bolted. He didn’t care about his drink, the people he bumped into, he just needed to run. He needed Kiyoomi.
“‘Nd that’s it.”
The blond had mostly calmed down by now, just sniffles and hiccups every now and then.
“What?!” Kiyoomi finally got out. Atsumu teared up once again, before breaking out into sobs. He clung to his lover’s shirt, bawling his eyes out into the fabric.
“Hnggg, Omi, I’m sorry! I’m sorry Omi! I tried to make ‘em go away, I’m sorry!”
“No, baby it wasn’t your fault!”
“It was! I-I shouldn’t have gone to that party alone, I shouldn’t have been so.. so s-stupid!”
“You’re not stupid, Tsumu. You may not have the best survival instincts, but that doesn’t make you dumb.”
“No! Ya— ya don’t g-get it! I’m a virgin, Omi! What if he actually succeeded?!”
“Oh Tsumu.. Come on, how about you take a quick shower to get all the icky off, and I’ll email your guidance counselor?” Kiyoomi offered. His lover nodded, which was enough for him.
He logged into his boyfriend’s school account, drafting an email to the school counselor.
‘Hello, Mr. Kimura. This is Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu’s partner. I’m sorry for emailing you at such an early hour, but Atsumu got into a traumatic incident last night and I will be escorting him around the school. Thank you for your understanding.’
It would probably be much harder if Inarizaki was an exclusive private school, but it wasn't. Even if he didn’t email the guidance counselor, he’d be let in anyway. The response surprisingly came fast. The counselor was understanding, going so far as to write up a temporary guest pass for Kiyoomi. Just then, Atsumu walked out of the bathroom in Kiyoomi’s loose Itachiyama jacket and some sweatpants he found in the back of his closet.
Atsumu looked at the email, then at his boyfriend. “Omi?”
“Yes, Tsu?” Kiyoomi replied, looking up. He froze when he saw the look in his lover’s eyes. The setter was on the brink of tears, the warm liquid already threatening to slip down his cheeks. “Tsumu, please don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault—“ Kiyoomi started, but was interrupted. “No, ya.. ya emailed the counselor? I thought’cha didn’t want to go public..”
“Your safety and comfort is much more important to me.”
It was a gloomy Monday morning, and the weather perfectly mimicked the mood of the secret couple. Atsumu was trembling a little, tucked into his lover’s huge Itachiyama jacket, while Kiyoomi glanced nervously and concernedly at him every few minutes. They walked to the school hand in hand, the ravenette already preparing the guest pass code to give to the attending guard.
Kiyoomi let Atsumu do whatever he wanted that morning, even when he wanted to skip class. Especially when he needed to skip class. Atsumu skipped morning training, then first period, then second, then third and then attended fourth. He ate lunch in the library with Kiyoomi, who was glaring at anyone who looked at them too long. The blond dragged himself to the rest of his classes, then afternoon training.
Atsumu felt like he was slowly suffocating. The gym felt cold against his bare skin, finally having taken off the comfort of his lover’s hoodie. Every breath of air he took tasted like the disgusting, alcohol infused air of that dimly lit upstairs bedroom.
Act normal. Smile. Laugh. Call ‘Samu a dumbass. Just don’t let them know.
The moment the gym door clicked shut behind him, the chatter stopped. It always stops when anyone enters the gym— but this time, the chatter didn’t start again. There was Atsumu, their loud, arrogant and energetic setter in the doorway. Except, he wasn’t smiling. His eyes were downcast. His left wrist sported a blue and purple bruise in the shape of fingerprints, and his right hand had blue and green bruises along his knuckles from when he’d punched the guy.
“‘Tsumu!” Osamu called out to his twin. “Where were ya? Ye weren’t in any of our shared classes today.” Kita nodded sincerely. “Ye skipped morning training today as well. Osamu called ye both’s mum, and she told him ya weren’t at home.”
“I.. ‘s nothing. Just got held up with the counselor,” Atsumu tried to put up an aloof façade. Keyword, tried. “I smell something,” Rintarou started, sniffing around for dramatic effects. Osamu finished for him, “I smell bullshit.” The blond rolled his eyes, grabbing a volleyball. “Whatever, c’mon, let’s play!”
Everyone played as usual except for Atsumu. His sets were slightly off, he jumped at every sudden noise, and he was much quieter than usual. During one of the breaks, Osamu finally decided to confront his twin.
“‘Tsumu!” the grey haired twin called out, grabbing his twin by the shoulder from behind.
“Hey. Wanna have some fun?” The guy’s words slurred. His disgusting, grimy arm slung over Atsumu’s shoulder, hand brushing his chest.
The blond flinched so violently, Osamu backed up immediately. The setter whipped around, exhaling as he saw his brother. “Oh. What, ‘Samu?”
“What’s up with yer wrist?”
“‘S nothing. Just.. fell.”
Stupid. That’s such a stupid excuse.
“Don’t give me that, ‘Tsumu. Come here, let me see,” the spiker said.
“It’s my party, ye’ll do what I fuckin’ want!”
Atsumu screamed. He stepped backward, tripping over his feet and landing hard on the ground.
“‘S-Samu! I’m so— I’m so sorry!”
At this point, the blond was sobbing and curling up on the ground. Everyone in the gym froze. Rintarou dropped his volleyball, Osamu was frozen with his hand halfway to his brother and even Shinsuke couldn’t move.
Aran tried to talk to him, “Atsumu—“ but was cut off by the loud bang of the gym doors slamming against the doorframe.
There, between the two blue gym doors, was Sakusa Kiyoomi. He had a panicked look on his face and a neon jacket, that Inarizaki recognized to be Itachiyama’s, in his hands. “Tsu!”
Oomimi’s head tilted in confusion, about to step between the intruder and his sobbing teammate. “Omi.. Omi, I’m sorry!” Shinsuke stopped Oomimi halfway to their setter, hearing the blond call for the intruder. “Tsumu, Tsumu it wasn’t your fault. Come here, I’ll put this jacket on you, okay?”
The ace’s gaze was gentler than any of them had ever seen before— a look reserved for Atsumu only. The blond nodded quickly, already reaching for the jacket. The volleyball players watched, still completely frozen, as the misophobic ace from Itachiyama who’d glared at all of them at least once, comforted their bawling setter.
“Sakusa?! What are ye doin’ in Hyogo? And why is Tsumu—!”
“Osamu.” Shinsuke cut the spiralling gray haired twin off, stepping forward after having finally found his voice. “Sakusa-san. May we know why you are here and what connection you have to Atsumu?” Kiyoomi looked back at his boyfriend, occasionally glancing back at the team just to glare at them angrily. “‘Tsu, can I tell them?” Atsumu shook his head. “No! No, no! They’ll hunt ‘em down, I don’t wanna cause more trouble!”
Ginjima approached the setter slowly. “Atsumu, I’m gonna sit next to you, okay?” He sat next to the blond after getting the green light, keeping his voice as soft as possible. “Atsumu, we want to help ya but we can’t do that if we don’t know what happened. I promise ye that none of us will do anything ya don’t want us to.”
“He touched me.”
Atsumu’s voice came out so soft, so broken that he wasn’t sure anyone really heard it. That was, until one word sounded out.
“What?”
It was Shinsuke. He held a hand up, signalling for nobody to speak.
“The party yesterday— ‘Samu bailed to hang with Sunarin so I went alone..”
Osamu looked down in horror. Rintarou looked like he wanted to puke, while Akagi stepped forward in case Kiyoomi posed a threat.
“I told him no, but he kept pushing. He touched me, ‘Samu.” The waterworks started again, this time the blond guiltily sobbing even harder than earlier. “I’m sorry Omi! I’m sorry, I should have fought him harder!”
“Shh, it wasn’t your fault.” The spiker stroked his lover’s back soothingly, hands trembling with anger.
Before anyone could speak, Shinsuke started. “Akagi, get the medical kit for Atsumu’s wrist. Suna, lock the gym doors, and Sakusa-san, please put Atsumu on the bench. Help ‘m calm down first, then we can talk.”
Said people nodded, getting to work on the instructions.
Atsumu had finally begun to calm down. His sobs had stopped to occasional sniffles while Kiyoomi rubbed his back soothingly. The setter was almost scared to look up— that he’d find disgust etched onto his teammates faces. Disappointment that he didn’t fight back, or even anger for disturbing practice. Though when he looked up, he didn’t find any of those. He didn’t find the pitying looks he expected, but familiar, concerned faces who all wanted to know what happened but respected his fragile boundaries enough to stay quiet. For the first time since last night, Atsumu finally felt safe.