Chapter Text
Atusmu jolted awake by the incessant ringing of his phone. Bleary-eyed, he fumbled around until he found the devil itself resting beside his pillow and immediately complained.
“‘Samu? I swear to God—”
“Tsumu.” Osamu’s voice was dead serious, “Is it true—about yer and Sakusa?”
“True? What true?” Atsumu asked back in bewilderment.
He could hear Osamu taking a deep breath. “Ya. And Sakusa. Married.”
Atsumu sobered up in an instant. The setter’s first reaction was to hastily hang up and check if he had woken up in some twisted, malicious alternate reality, or he’s having a stroke. His second was to curse himself for making reckless bets the night before and drinking until senseless. His third…
He checked his phone: nearly twenty missed calls, a flood of news notifications, and a barrage of messages—including some from his parents, Osamu, his teammates, and the team manager. Stumbling over his own feet, he scrambled out of bed, intending to find Sakusa and figure out how to handle the crisis as fast as possible.
Sakusa’s room door was half-closed. Atsumu didn't even bother knocking and simply pushed it open. The moment he did, he found a woman, who seemed to be in her mid thirties with raven hair loosely curled, raining blows on Sakusa with her hand.
Sakusa simply stood there as though he hadn't been struck at all. His expression didn't change in the slightest, not even a flicker of pain crossing his face. The sound of the blows alone made Atsumu wince. That had to hurt like hell! Without any hesitation he rushed over, planting himself right between them.
“Who the hell are ya? What gives yer the right to hit someone like that?!”
Before the other person could even say a word, Sakusa grabbed Atsumu by his collar and pulled him close, lowering his voice to a whisper, “That's my sister.”
Atsumu refused to back down. “So what? Your sister can't just hit—”
Oh.
His sister.
Atsumu's face flushed bright red when the realization hit. He darted behind Sakusa, shrinking in on himself as he tried to hide completely behind the spiker. Despite the rough glares his sister was giving, Sakusa couldn't help but find it amusing. Just moments ago, the blonde had been so determined to stand up for him, but now he was cowering like a little quail.
Sakusa’s sister snorted at the scene, "How do you intend to handle this?"
“Sister. I’ve already told you. This all was just a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstood?” Her voice raised a few pitches, “You accidentally ran into a wedding ring shop, a goddamn city hall for marriage-registration office and then a wedding chapel? If it weren't for the fact that the young man behind you hasn't had his document apostilled—what, were you planning to come home in a couple of days and tell me you’d just gone and got married like that?”
So, Sakusa was actually in a bit of a bind; earlier that afternoon, while he was taking Atsumu back to hotel after the team's celebration, the setter suddenly said he's about to throw up halfway through the taxi ride, so the driver hurriedly pulled over to the side of the road.
He refused to get back to the cab. Sakusa had to apologize to the driver and proceeded to pay a generous tip while Atsumu stood dumbly in the wind. He looked strangely sober too, quite composed for someone who had been chugging alcohol like water a few hours ago.
Apparently, Atsumu had decided that since his friend was getting married (mid-twenties crisis of having to attend a friend's wedding every month), he ought to at least see what wedding rings looked like. In his drunken state, this somehow seemed like a matter of great importance. He dragged Sakusa to the nearest jewelry shop, stood in front of the display cases for several minutes, peering at the rings with an intensity that could rival the setter being on court.
“Which one do ya think is better?” He asked, pointing at two rings behind the glass.
Sakusa had absolutely no idea why he’s still here, maybe because he's afraid that tomorrow the team will find their setter dead in a ditch and they will lose a very valuable asset. Sakusa couldn't risk that.
“You don't even have anyone to buy one for. When buying a wedding ring, you have to know your partner's size too.” Sakusa deadpanned, tried to reason with a drunkard.
“Well, I have ya here, ain't I?” Atsumu pleaded, “Hand! Omi!”
Sakusa showed his hand in defeat. The faster this shenanigan ends, the faster he gets to go home.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning.
His device had been ringing for several minutes on end. Before finally answering the phone, Sakusa glanced at Atsumu, who was surprisingly obedient, squatting beside a flowerbed, looking for all the world like a mushroom. A few minutes later, when Sakusa glanced back, Atsumu had vanished. He hurriedly looked around and found the blonde standing blankly in front of a large entrance that appeared to belong to a government office building.
He walked over and asked Atsumu what he was doing; the setter pointed inside and said he wanted to go and take a look. Under normal circumstances, Sakusa would have just let Atsumu go without much thought, but right now, there was no way he could feel at ease letting a drunk-hazed idiot like this wander off on his own.
24-hour ago Sakusa tried to drag Atsumu along and call it a day. But the setter wouldn’t budge an inch. His attempt to use more force only triggered Atsumu’s defiance, who instead yanked Sakusa toward himself. Tired of whatever the hell life put him through, Sakusa simply nudged Atsumu along to keep him from getting lost, while he took a call right beside him.
Over the phone, Sakusa could only vaguely hear a staff member smiling and speaking to Atsumu about registration; he also heard Atsumu grumbling about what a hassle it was.
Sakusa didn't pay much mind at first, but after exchanging a few more words on the call, he realized Atsumu was tugging at his hand and asking for his ID card, while the nearby staff member smiled and nodded at him.
If he could do it all over again, Sakusa would absolutely stop himself from handing over that ID card.
Unfortunately, there are no "ifs," and life offers no do-overs.
It wasn't until he heard the staff member awkwardly explaining that they lacked a few documents—and telling them to come back next time—that Sakusa finally realized the situation.
Sakusa eventually dragged the blonde away before he could start asking the staff to let him sign the goddamn marriage register paper first. Setting their foot back to the street, Sakusa was about to scold the living hell out of a teammate, but Atsumu's attention was caught by yet another sign farther down, again—a wedding chapel.
“That!” Atsumu announced, pointing at it.
Sakusa didn't even bother asking anymore.
“I've always loved traditional weddings.” Atsumu rambled on while dragging the spiker with him inside the chapel, “But seeing modern ones is nice too. Maybe I could do both! Momma would like that. What about Samu? Yeah, I think he prefers tradition too. Maybe we could do a couple weddings? Was that the right term? I don’t think so. But would anyone want to share a wedding though? Well. I don’t mind if it’s Samu.”
“Thanks for sharing but you're dead drunk.” Sakusa looked at him, “We're going back to the hotel.”
This time, Atsumu let himself be pulled along. And it was finally, finally Sakusa's victory.
Well, that was until this morning, when he saw his face and Atsumu's all over the internet. Buying wedding rings. Marriage-register office. Wedding chapel. They cover narratives, timeline and everything. Sakusa had no fucking idea how to explain the whole string of bizarre situations, really.
“Sister.” Sakusa felt a headache forming, “Miya got drunk, I was in a rush to answer a call and didn't pay enough attention to him. As simple as that.”
His sister's tone turned icy, "So, according to you, it’s everyone else’s fault, and you bear absolutely no responsibility, is that it?"
For a split second, Sakusa really wanted to say "yes", but he figured if he did, he probably wouldn't be walking out the door alive today.
"I do bear some responsibility for this," Sakusa said, deciding to adopt a more conciliatory tone—he needed to smooth things over with his sister first.
"Of course you do.”
Sakusa had always been a man of his own mind; otherwise, he never would have gone against their father to pursue volleyball. Sakusa's sister had initially assumed that Kyoomi was merely trying to lie to them because he couldn't bring himself to admit he was gay—specifically, that he loved another man. In his defense though, she could see the reason why he decided to hide his relationship from their family. To her surprise, however, as soon as she arrived, Kyoomi told her it was all a misunderstanding: he and Miya Atsumu were nothing more than teammates.
He completely erased the relationship itself.
Although they hadn't met much ever since Kyoomi was sixteen, she had never—throughout those sixteen years—taught her brother to shy away from problems or dodge responsibility. She had always considered his brother as a responsible person, truly; she respects his choice of career, loves him dearly, and is silently proud of her little brother. Today though, she was disappointed. The Sakusa did not raise an deadbeat that denied his own lover.
"I'll contact the other family shortly so we can discuss your engagement. When they arrive, I want you to offer them a sincere apology."
"Wait a minute, Sister." Sakusa was flustered; how had things suddenly escalated to the point of an engagement? "I think you've really misunderstood the situation. Miya and I only have a co-workers relationship."
Sakusa pulled Atsumu out from behind him.
“Um, yes! You've misunderstood. Me and Omi— ah, Sakusa are merely coworkers!” A trace of disappointment flickered in Atsumu’s heart—so, in Sakusa Kyoomi’s eyes, he didn't even qualify as a friend?
Sakusa looked at Atsumu, who had his head bowed, and felt a strange sensation—an odd feeling he couldn't quite pin down before the moment was interrupted by Atsumu suddenly wrapping his arms around him.
“Don't! Don't hit him! Don’t hit him!”
His sister’s hand remained in mid-air, unable to strike down. Her husband immediately stepped in and hugged her shoulder. "Motoya, could please help your cousin sit down?"
Upon hearing this, Komori Motoya hurriedly guided his cousin to the sofa. "Kyoka, please, calm down.”
Without delay, Kyoka's husband gently took after the conversation, he patted Atsumu's back. “So, how did you two meet?”
Atsumu turned to look at Sakusa, pleading for help. The spiker couldn't answer his pleas. Komori had half dragged Sakusa to the balcony, jumped in an interrogation in an instant. “What happened?”
“I told you guys, it was a misunderstanding.”
“To be honest, this sounds like neglecting responsibility, you know?”
Sakusa could only sighed.
“You said Atsumu was drunk. But were you? Surely you knew what's going on. If you had just paid a little more attention to him at the time, things wouldn't have ended up the way they are now.”
Sakusa did not want to admit that Komori was right, but he knew full well that every word his cousin spoke was the truth.
Sakusa couldn't help but ask himself: Was that phone call really that important? In fact, it wasn't; it wouldn't have mattered at all if he had returned the call later. Yet, at that moment, he had prioritized answering that phone above the setter.
And as it turned out, for Sakusa, Miya Atsumu simply wasn't that important either.
Komori continued, “Kyoomi. We love you. But denying your romantic relationship just because your marriage was leaked to the media was not the right course of action. Think about Miya too. I know coming out, not on purpose, is tough. We all will still love you the same even if you're gay. But Kyoka is gonna be furious if you continue to act like this.”
He what now?
“Motoya—”
His cousin kept on talking, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to become your safe place, I couldn't be the person that you can confine to, I couldn’t give you the sense of security— I’m really sorry.” Komori sounded like he’s about to cry. Yup, he’s gonna cry. “But believe me Kyoomi, we, Kyoka and Kyoshi would do anything for you, well Kyoka alone would raise hell if your father breathed at this the wrong way.”
If this is the version inside both Motoya’s and Kyoka’s head, he’s fucked. “Motoya. We are—”
“Don’t interrupt, I'm getting emotional here. So Kyoomi. Please. Don’t. Don’t make decisions you would regret. I don’t know when did you date Miya, but he’s a good guy. He does not deserve your—your denial like this man…”
Sakusa, much to his irritation, wasn't able to explain himself because a certain blonde rushed in.
“My ma and Samu took a flight to Tokyo. Yer sister took my phone to set up a family meeting. Tonight. At your house.” Atsumu gestured wildly, “What should we do?!”
Sakusa Kyoomi was detached.
That was the conclusion everyone seemed capable of arriving at within a remarkably short amount of time.
Sakusa was detached—so detached that it seems like there was nothing in this world capable of holding his gaze or keeping him tethered. The spiker effortlessly kept himself apart from the rest of the world. Perhaps that was why people were so fascinated by him. There was always something strangely compelling about a person who seemed impossible to possess, because everyone, at one point or another, wanted to believe that they might be the exception. Atsumu had once thought the same thing, although he would never have admitted it so plainly, not even to himself. He had watched Sakusa for years with the peculiar mixture of irritation and curiosity that only Sakusa seemed capable of inspiring in him, wondering what it would take to make that perpetually guarded expression soften, wondering whether there was anything beneath all that restraint besides an endless reserve of patience and an apparent disinterest in the affairs of other people.
In the long span of Sakusa’s life, there would be moments that belonged solely to a person. The regrettable thing for Atsumu, however, was that not everyone was so lucky; the vast majority of people left to sit wistfully outside the door to his heart, gazing in.
And Atsumu was one of that vast majority.
But now, Sakusa had suddenly opened the door and asked him: "Want to come in and sit for a while?"
At the dinner table, the two heads of the family went back and forth, leaving the others absolutely no chance to interject. Kyoomi finally managed to find an opening, but no sooner had he started to speak than Kyoka shot him a glare—a silent signal that this was a conversation for adults, not for a child to butt into.
A notification pinged on Atsumu's phone; he checked it and saw a message from Kyoomi. Atsumu slightly tilted his head to look at Kyoomi; he seemed somewhat resigned, yet showed no signs of aversion or annoyance.
His fingertips lightly brushed over the avatar—an image featuring a blurred image of dawn—and Atsumu replied with a simple "Gotcha."
Omi:
If there's really no other way, I'll have to ask you to play along with my little charade for a few days.
Me:
Gotcha
It seemed the matter was settled just like that—it felt almost like a dream.
Seeing the caller’s name appear on his mobile screen, Sakusa offered an apologetic nod to everyone. "Sorry, I need to take this call." As he spoke, he pressed his second phone into Atsumu’s hands, whispering low enough that only them could hear. “Emergency contacts, addresses, travel information, all of it. There's also access to one of my bank accounts in case you need to pay for something while I'm gone. The passcode is the last six digits of my ID. I've written it in the notes as well, just in case.”
Atsumu stared down at the phone, then back up at him.
"What the hell would I need yer bank account for?" He whispered, but Sakusa was already straightening. "And why do ya even have a second phone??"
“If I ain’t back on time, you, well, you may suddenly be expected to make decisions or handle practical matters on my behalf, or our behalf.”
That did not help Atsumu, at all, in fact, it raised several more questions.
"And what's with the bodyguards?" Atsumu added under his breath. "What exactly are yer family doing for the living that you possibly need bodyguards for?? I know yer filthy rich but a mansion like this is too much for me to deal with!"
Seeing Atsumu on edge like that made him nervous too.
"I'll explain when I get back."
“No— No! Omi, don’t leave me here— Ya bastard—”
Stepping out of the room, Sakusa spoke to his phone, “Ushijima. What made you decide to call me all of a sudden?”
“Sakusa, is what they're saying on the internet true?”
"Yeah." Even though it was an act, Sakusa had never intended for the whole world to know. Aside from the two people directly involved—himself and Atsumu—only Osamu and Suna were aware of it. Well, maybe counts Motoya too, since Suna is probably updating him at the moment.
"Congratulations." Ushijima didn't know the full details of their relationship; he had only interacted with Atsumu during the Olympics and summer camp. All Ushijima knows is that Miya Atsumu’s skills were unquestionable, and he seemed like a decent person, though he was prone to flying off the handle. “I’m glad you could find someone. Looking at it now, the seniors’ worries were completely unnecessary.”
Sakusa drily chuckled.
“Anyway, what are you up to right now?"
"Oh, just meeting up with the families." Sakusa said casually.
"Why didn't you mention something so important earlier? You'd better go back to your soon to be husband—I won't keep you any longer."
Hearing the dial tone from his mobile phone, Sakusa was momentarily taken aback; a thought crossed his mind, and he turned to look at Atsumu. Atsumu was sitting right there waiting for him, and upon seeing Sakusa look his way, he blinked at him.
That strange feeling returned.
Sakusa suppressed the surging emotions in his eyes and walked over to Atsumu's side.