Archive of Our Own

A cute café at the corner of the MSBY dorms. Two cups of coffee sit on a smooth wooden table, one much lighter than the other. A small spoon on one cup clinks, breaking the deafening silence that kept them apart.

“I’m sorry?” Miya Atsumu whispered so quietly to the one across from him.

On the table, a pretty ivory-colored envelope was pushed to Atsumu’s side. The sight of a golden wax sigil and a small blue ribbon sealing the delicate paper only made his heart drop further down his rib cage. He didn’t have to open it. Atsumu knew that if he did, his skin would be seared with the truth he refused to accept.

Across from him, Kita Shinsuke smiled softly. A smile that could break his heart as the man fondly looked at him.

“I’m getting married next month. I would love for you to be one of my groomsmen, Atsumu.”

──── ❤︎ ────

(1) Inarizaki High School

“The first Inarizaki Volleyball Club meeting of the year is today after school! Please be on time!”

Atsumu waved at the club member who had given him the flyer as a reminder. Not like they needed it though. He and his twin brother, Miya Osamu, were scouted by the Inarizaki Boys Volleyball coach, Coach Kurosu, during their final years at Yoko Junior High. They were more than excited to be a part of a nationally known school. Atsumu was ready to show everyone how things were really done.

“Wonder what the team will be like this time ‘round.”

The metal backing of a school chair knocked against his desk. Grey hair peeked into view as Osamu leaned his seat back to glance at the paper. He was sipping away at a box of juice, his eyes scanning across the flyer before looking up at Atsumu.

Atsumu wrinkled his nose. “What kinda loser hangs out with their brother?”

“What kinda loser sits by his lonesome on the first day?” Osamu quipped back, “Anyway, what do ya think?”

“It’s a National going school.” Atsumu tossed the flyer onto the surface of his desk. “Sure they’re gonna be plenty strong. If they aren’t, then they shouldn’t be playin’ at all.”

“And that’s what gets you zero friends, dozens of enemies.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “You already know I don’t care. If yer so curious ‘bout who’s gonna be on our team, go tail behind the club member who’s handing out the flyers.”

“Nah. Surprises are nice.”

Atsumu sighed heavily as he leaned his upper body on the wooden surface of his desk. Around him, students were already chatting about their classes and the possibilities of new friends. Outside, several different club members were promoting their after-school activities with colorful flyers and cheesy grins. They were all looking forward to what a new ground could bring. They were all excited for the several outcomes that could come out of being in high school.

He wouldn’t say he did not not care.

Atsumu was smart. More than volleyball smart. He was normally a top student in his classes, so grades did matter (especially when it factored into sports performance). He had to have the trust of his teammates so that they could be confident in him. He had to stay sharp to have everyone’s attention—to make sure that he was being watched.

So friends, enemies, or none, Atsumu had his own practices to uphold. If someone got in the way, then that was his problem to solve because it would become trouble for him. In a way, he did care.

He cared about himself. It was something people made a point to tell him.

Atsumu’s gaze drifted back to the hallway windows, trailing after people who came and went. More people promoting their clubs. Students giggling. People reading their schedules. Someone was running to get to their next class. Another person stopped right in front of his line of sight, staring down at something in his hands.

His gaze flickered to the side.

Atsumu’s heart suddenly jumped into his throat. 

Hazel. A brilliant yet soft pair of hazel-colored eyes stared right at him. Inklings of black hair tips swayed to the side as the student tilted his head, his gaze drifting around the room. Atsumu’s eyes roamed up, dragging across the gentle features of the boy. White hair like snow. Pale, smooth cheeks with a slight flush from the heat. Lips that parted slightly as he glanced back down at what he was holding. His uniform was crisp and clean, a hand reaching up to pluck a pen out of the breast pocket of the blazer. He scribbled something down and then–

Just as he arrived, he was gone in an instant.

Yet, Atsumu’s body lurched forward–almost as if he was in a trance–to follow after him. He would’ve kept moving forward if the loud scraping of the desk hadn’t snapped him away from it. Atsumu fumbled to move the desk back in place, sitting himself back down on his chair as he tried to play it off.

“What was that?”

Oh right. Why was he always present for the most inconvenient times?

“Nothin’,” Atsumu mumbled. 

“Seemed like a whole lot of somethin’ to me,” Osamu grinned cheekily. “Did ya see someone interesting?”

“None of yer business, that’s what it is!” Atsumu scowled, pushing Osamu’s chair away from his desk.

“Hey! Quit it, you almost made me spill my juice!”

“Scared to stain yer clothes or just that thirsty for the measly droplet you’ve been tryin’ to suck out for the last minute?”

Everything spiraled down into one of their fights as they bickered and kept trying to push each other’s chairs or desks into one another. Some people already knew who they were, some not minding, while others stood by the door to watch the commotion. “There go the Miya twins,” he heard someone laugh. Atsumu and Osamu were forced to drop it when their homeroom teacher came in to stop them, Atsumu huffing at him before crossing his arms. He shot a glance at the door, ready to sneer at anyone who was still staring.

The same pair of hazel eyes was on him.

Atsumu jolted, quick to smooth out his disheveled hair and blazer. His eyes darted around, confirming that the boy was staring at him. Atsumu’s gaze returned to him, Atsumu raising his eyebrow at him.

The boy simply tilted his head to the side, a slight frown on his face before he moved away from the door with the clipboard in hand.

What.

What was that look for?

Why was he offended and taking it personally? He didn’t know the guy. It wasn't like he was ever going to see him again either. Maybe in the cheering squad at their games, but not any other time. He was just someone who was in and out of his life. Just like many other people.

Atsumu had his priorities anyway.

₊˚⊹♡

“We’ve got some new first years with us! Let’s go down the line and introduce one another.”

What.

Atsumu listened carefully as the other first years gave their names, middle schools, and positions. He saw one or two of them in his class. He heard of some of the others. Hell, he had even played against some of them too. 

But his eyes were glued onto one of the second years across from him.

Why was he here?

“Miya Atsumu,” he spoke up once it was his turn, “I was a setter for Yoko Junior High and won the Best Server award during that time too. ‘Samu can tell ya our other achievements. Pleased to be here.”

Scribbling. 

The same student he saw in the hallways was standing next to Aran, taking note of something before directing his attention to Osamu. He carefully listened, writing down a couple more things and repeating the same actions. Observe. Listen. Write.

He wasn’t supposed to see him again.

He was a part of the volleyball team? He didn’t seem familiar. Atsumu would’ve remembered someone who looked like that. Was he in the starting team? On the bench?

The second years began to introduce themselves. Once again, Atsumu listened carefully, taking in as much information as he could from their brief words. Replays of games he had watched flew into his head, Atsumu making mental notes and gauging the strength of the current teams based on them. 

“We have some additional club members around to help us during training, camps, and maintenance since we do not have a manager,” one of the third years added. “Please feel free to ask them for help when needed. Let’s get an idea of our new members, shall we?”

That’s it?

So, he wasn’t on the team. He was in the club but not on the team or bench.

He wouldn’t be seeing him all the time then. In and out of his life. Good. Just how he liked it.

The club went through warmups and began to set everything up for some four-on-four matches. Atsumu did some sets for the spikers to practice on, but he had to admit that they weren’t to his fullest potential.

He was staring.

Those sharp, hazel eyes flickered up and then across, watching how the ball rose in the air before it slammed down on the plywood floor. His gaze would drag over to the spiker, carefully observing the person’s toss, approach, and posture. Like clockwork, it would reset for each player, but its return point was right at Atsumu. Watching. Observing. A word or two on that notepad of his.

Atsumu shook it off. He was used to being watched. It would be weird if he weren’t. The coaches were watching him. So were the other club members. There were plenty of pairs of eyes focused on his movements. It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t.

“Alright! Let’s get in groups and get going!”

Yet, as he stood on the serving line, bouncing the ball on the ground three times before looking across the net, Atsumu felt his eyes naturally drift over to the bench.

Look at me.

A good toss. A good approach. A nice height.

Wham!

It felt good too. Especially as he watched their expression morph from pure focus to utter shock. They turned back to look at where the ball went, the quiet dribbling of the volleyball filling the moments of silence in between. Atsumu furled his fingers in and out, grinning at the tingle through his skin after a hard serve.

“Well, he didn’t earn the Best Sever title by miracle,” Coach Kurosu  chuckled to the other coach, “Stay focused and alert! This will be good practice against the serves at Nationals.”

“Yessir!” 

Practice continued smoothly from there. The other players picked up after the first round, showcasing what they had to offer. Atsumu took mental note of the strengths, gradually adjusting his sets depending on who ran up. He changed it up when he thought they could reach a higher potential, and lo and behold, they did. A strong school had to have strong players. Anything less would’ve disappointed him.

They had rounds with as many groups as they could before having to wrap up. The coaches had them huddle to talk out their schedule, relaying the upcoming dates for the Interhigh and any camps they were arranging. They dispersed to do stretches. 

Atsumu was on the floor stretching out his legs when he realized that the boy was close to him. He did see him enter some of the games, but he didn’t catch onto his plays. 

“You had a little too much power in those serves.”

Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows, twisting the other way to face the direction of the voice. There he was. The same hazel-eyed stare was looking within him. Atsumu’s eyes darted around, confirming whether or not he was the one the boy was talking to.

“Me?” Atsumu half-scoffed, “My serves?”

His voice was mellow and calm as he continued, “You slowly added more power into your serves the more you scored with them. Over time, your sets became a little less coordinated and precise. That’s because you were chipping away at your stamina by going too into your serves.”

“Huh?”

“A grain too much does not seem like a difference, but once it builds up then there is a greater loss.”

What the fuck?

Atsumu blankly stared at the other. The boy sat up, continuing his stretches as if he didn’t just bluntly stab at Atsumu’s skills.

“I think I know what I’m doing,” Atsumu scoffed and rolled his eyes.

He pressed his lips together. “I see.”

That’s it? Not even a hello, how are you, or you did good? He just jumped straight to an insult and backed away like nothing happened! The nerve of him! Just because he was a year older, that didn’t mean he could speak to Atsumu like that. 

The boy got up after he finished, heading for the storage closet to clean up. His brother and one of the other first years walked up to him, Atsumu still staring in the same direction.

“Something happen?” Osamu squatted down.

“I think I just got spat in my face to,” Atsumu half grumbled and half questioned. “Do either of you have anything on that guy?”

The one who was standing next to Osamu was scrolling through his phone, letting out a small hum and sigh before he spoke up. He gave a vague gesture. “That’s Kita Shinsuke. One of the second years told me that he’s like an assistant to the assistant coach. Not literally, but he basically keeps everyone in line. Gotta watch out for him.”

Atsumu furrowed his brow. “You both hit one of my sets. Somethin’ wrong?” 

Although, he doubt–

“It was too low,” they said at the same time.

“Huh?”

“They were low,” Osamu repeated.

“Fast, but low,” the other guy nodded. “Probably would’ve been better to hit if it was a cleaner set. Although you must’ve been holding back, right? I heard you got awards for your plays, so it makes sense if you didn’t feel the need to show off.”

“Oh, ‘Tsumu doesn’t hold back for practice at all, Suna.”

“Is that so? I guess that’s proved by those nasty serves.”

Atsumu tuned out of the conversation, replaying the last dozens of plays he set up during the practice matches. The ones from the first rounds were fine. All of his spikers hit them with ease. They hit all of his sets throughout the matches. Was there anyone that missed? No, there wasn’t. However, there were times that it was a little off. He did notice that some of them were holding back their power too. Was it because of his set? Maybe, but his sets were almost accurate for the most part. No, that’s not true. There was one or two times that they barely made it, but he thought it was because fatigue was getting to the others. Then–

Oh.

Oh, it was his stamina.

He placed a hand on his chest, feeling how his heart was still beating fast beneath his palm. It’s not like he was out of practice, but he supposed he did go a little deeper into his serves to establish his presence. He did add more power too. He heard that sound when it bounced off the opposing side’s arms. It was a crisp and delightful noise to his ears.

But he did cost them neater sets.

Atsumu’s gaze searched around, landing on the second year who had called him out. Kita Shinsuke, was it?

How closely was he watching that he noticed?

“Gee, I guess he is someone to watch out for,” he mumbled to himself.

At that moment, Atsumu didn’t notice that his heart had skipped a beat as his palm curled into his chest.

₊˚⊹♡

“Go home.”

After a while, Atsumu’s body had grown a sort of…reaction around Kita.

Their first year had flown right under their noses, gone in just the blink of an eye. They had a loss in the first Spring High and placed 3rd overall, but they had made it far at the Interhigh National Tournaments. They managed to defeat a favorite, Mujinazaka High School, and made it to the finals against Itachiyama. Although they only got one set off them, Atsumu loved the reactions he heard around him. They didn’t think they would have gotten a lick in against either of those schools. They showed them! 

With the way they were rolling, nothing could stop or hold them back. 

“Huh?”

Except maybe one thing. Or rather, one person.

Kita Shinsuke was a respected and valuable member of their team. Atsumu learned that over time. He remembers several times in practice when Kita would save a failed set or perfectly send the ball up for someone to take. He was a person they could rely on—scary at times, but reliable. Any advice taken from him shouldn’t be unappreciated. Any compliments should be cherished.

“Don’t compliment him when he’s obviously not taken care of himself.”

Sometimes they could be a bit hard and stern. 

“Go home, Atsumu.”

And sometimes, they could get on his nerves.

“Couldn’t he have been nicer about it?!”

But as he stood in the Inarizaki locker room with a care package of lemon water, cough drops, and pickled plums accompanied by a post-it note staring back at him…

“You’re gonna make me cry!” Atsumu shouted in the empty locker room, tussling his hair as he sniffled through a stuffy nose.

It had dawned on Atsumu that what he was feeling wasn’t annoyance or frustration. The reaction that made his heart jump ten miles into his stomach or out of his throat was because of different feelings.

Feelings such as the need for Kita to watch him. The desire to hear a compliment. The ache of needing to see a smile for once. That strange feeling that yelled at Atsumu to act, to make Kita keep his eyes on him.

“So he sent ya home, hm?”

Atsumu didn’t bother to sit up as the door to their room closed. Osamu plopped his backpack on the ground, the frame of their bunk beds shaking as Osamu threw himself on the bottom bunk.

“Yer gonna tear me down with this bed if ya keep rocking it,” Atsumu complained, pulling the covers up to his chest.

“Not gonna ask how practice went?”

“Probably horribly 'cause I wasn’t there.”

“Hey, I doubt Kita makes a little goodie bag for anyone. Maybe this can finally be a wake-up call for you.”

“From what?” Atsumu scoffed, “I’m aware of what I need to be aware of.”

“Yeah, except fer love that isn’t volleyball related.”

This made Atsumu sit up.

Atsumu leaned over the bed, the tissue that was stuck in his nose falling out as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. Osamu wrinkled his nose in disgust as the tissue fell onto his mattress and shot a nasty glare towards him.

“Ew, keep yer sickness to yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stay sick. Don’t drag me down with you.”

“Dumbass, you know what I mean!” Atsumu exclaimed.

Osamu leaned back into his pillows, giving a small shrug as he picked up the latest JUMP issues from the nightstand. He flipped through the first pages, sighing softly before speaking.

“Y’know, you never cared about what others think of you, so it makes ya not care about what you think of others.” he glanced up at him. “But have you ever considered that kind of mindset can blind ya?”

“Speak normally.”

“All I’m saying is that you were almost dragged away from your desk just by looking at Kita. I don’t think that happens with any random guy. And I’ve never seen you act so docile around anyone aside from him either.”

“So? He’s my senior.”

“Ya treat Aran like he’s our age.”

“That’s different! We grew up with him.”

“What about Akagi and Oomimi? You still put up defenses against them or play around with them.”

“That’s…”

“Face it, Tsumu. You like Kita.”

Wham!

The words smacked him as if he had received a volleyball with his face. Hard with a sting to it, but it ultimately left a burning ache across his skin. Atsumu fell silent, looking back to the first time he saw him. 

Bright hallways, a thoughtful expression on his face as he took note of potential players and future members for the club. That striking stare could read him instantaneously. A presence he didn’t want to disappoint.

Someone he wanted to please.

Someone who he wanted to be in their sights. In their mind.

Someone he wanted to see smile.

Atsumu placed a hand on his chest, his fingers grasping at his shirt, when he felt the beating of his heart. All those times that he felt it wasn’t because of overexertion because wherever that feeling followed, Kita was there.

“Shit.”

“Hey, no need to speak like that about a beautiful thing,” Osamu teased.

“Wh—what am I supposed to do?!” Atsumu almost fell out of his bed. “I can’t be in love with Kita!”

“Whaddya mean? S’not illegal or anything to fall in love with your senior. Happens all the time.”

“This is different! It’s Kita we’re talking about,” Atsumu flopped back onto his mattress. “I’m probably the last person on his mind.”

“Oh c’mon, ‘Tsumu. I’m sure you—“

“I don’t want to think about it fer now. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to get sick.”

“I’m already breathing yer germs!”

Atsumu pulled the covers over his head and snuggled deeply into the pillows around him. He heard Osamu give a defeated sigh, papers being flipped around from the JUMP issue he was reading. Atsumu patted around the mattress for his phone. Once he found it, he opened the search engine app, his fingers going across the screen as he typed a question into the search box.

How do you confess to someone you like?

₊˚⊹♡

He thought he would have more time. Or rather, he thought there would be a better high to ride. 

In Atsumu’s perfect world, they would have won the Interhigh National Tournament this time around. Their team would have peaked with Kita as their captain, leading to proud smiles and claps on the back after they won against the crowd favorite on the bracket. Yet, after being added alongside the other seeded groups, Inarizaki lost in their first game against Karasuno High School. He expected Kita to be upset, especially considering how they lost due to Atsumu and Osamu being reckless by using a quick they had just learned in that match.

Somehow, seeing Kita smile at them while he expressed his desire to keep bragging about them–about going further with the team–made Atsumu’s heart sink further into his chest.

And now…

“Thank you for all the work you’ve done!”

Atsumu was drilling holes into the ground as they bowed down to their seniors, who stopped for one last visit before leaving the school grounds. The four of them were holding their diploma rolls in their hands, and he could hear Akagi making fun of them for getting emotional (Aran included). When they came back up, Atsumu still stared at the ground.

Kita was in front of him.

Ever since he became aware of his feelings, Atsumu tried to find ways to bring them up to Kita. He thought that it wouldn’t be difficult. After all, Atsumu had his share of confessions here and there. Surely it couldn’t be too hard to confess to someone.

He was wrong. So wrong.

Every time Kita came near Atsumu, Atsumu would suddenly freeze up and act like a fool. He had said stupid things he never knew a human being could spew out. He had tripped over his feet and dazed away in his presence. He thought he wasn’t being obvious about his attempts, but the teasing from the other second years said otherwise.

This was the last chance he had. He didn’t know when he would see Kita again, let alone have some time to speak with him privately. Atsumu was sure that Kita had plans for his future and was ready to go to a good university to live them out. There probably wouldn’t be as much time to see him in between all that.

Atsumu had resorted to a simple confession. There was no way he could mess it up.

The third years bid their farewell, leaving the rest of the team to go back to end their day. They were supposed to clean up the gym before going for break, but Atsumu needed to slip out to catch up with Kita. So, while everyone else was in the storage and locker rooms to end the day, Atsumu ran out of the gym. He remembered which way they were going, Atsumu following the same path to find Kita. He was probably walking home with Aran. Aran knew about Atsumu’s feelings, so he would probably pick up on Atsumu’s intentions once he saw him arrive.

“I’ve never seen you smile so wide, Shinsuke. Are you that happy to graduate?”

Atsumu screeched to a halt. He couldn’t just interrupt them like that, right? Maybe he should wait around. He wasn’t hiding, he was just going to wait for them to finish their conversation like a civilized person. Yes, that is what he was going to do.

They were only a few feet out of the school gates, so Atsumu pressed himself against one of the gate walls to hide himself. He remembered seeing Aran and Kita looking back at the school. Were they going to get all nostalgic because it was their last day? That would be a little corny.

“Hm… I suppose you could say that.” Kita hummed.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“Hm… perhaps there is or isn’t.”

“Shinsuke, no need to tease!” Aran laughed.

Kita chuckled as well, “I know, I know. It’s nice to see how far we’ve come, but I think it will be interesting to see how far the others will go.”

“Is this your way of expressing concern for them? I’m sure Atsumu will keep them in line. You know he doesn’t play around when it comes to volleyball.”

“If he is chosen to be captain, then I have faith in how he’ll handle the team. I sincerely mean it when I say I’m interested in seeing where they’ll go. I’m sure they have their dreams, goals, and accomplishments they wish to reach. Their third year is crucial to what path they’ll choose.”

He heard Aran shuffle around. “Yeah, that is true. Scouts will be on the lookout for new club members.”

“Mhm. I’m sure they’ll be focusing on their matches more than ever. After what happened this year, the second years will be seeking a rematch against Karasuno. They’ll bring their best to not stop short again.”

“True, true,” he could envision Aran nodding, “Anything else?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you were looking forward to their futures. Is volleyball the only thing you think they consider their future?”

“I know there will be more in store for them. However, this is a important time for them to deliberate and extract the most they can from their careers. Unfortunately, an athlete’s path is rather constricted due to age. This year is practically the start of a full-fledge profession. I would hate to see any of them waver because of something else.”

“There is a time for everything. You know that, right?”

“Even so, I’m sure there are priorities.”

For a moment, he wondered if Aran was trying to coax Kita into talking about the possibility of a relationship. He used the future as a way to tiptoe around a blunt question, but it seemed that Kita didn’t understand his subtle cues.

Unless he did. 

Because while Kita might not have the same views, Kita could think that someone would put a career over a person. A passion over another passion. It was as if he believed someone would love one concept more over a different one. In a way, Atsumu began to wonder if he was ready for such a commitment.

He loved volleyball. What they were discussing was true as well. There would be scouts at the next couple of games to recruit club members, if not people who will be promoting themselves for applications. Atsumu planned to make volleyball his career. He was confident in seeing offers.

Would there be time?

Even if there was, would it be enough? He knew that he would be busy. Training, matches, away games, PR events, advertisements–the possibilities for a schedule were endless. He didn’t even know how far he could be from Hyogo. Did he want to put someone he loved through the chance of a long-distance, low maintenance, lowkey relationship? 

He didn’t.

If he wanted to love Kita, then he wanted to do it at full force.

The two began to walk away. When he could barely hear their footsteps anymore, Atsumu stepped away from the gate and headed back to the gym. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his club jacket, his right hand feeling around for something before he pulled it out.

The second button of his school uniform sat in the center of his palm. Atsumu smoothed his thumb over the circle, sighing to himself as he entered the gym.

He hoped that time would be in his favor to give him a chance a little further down the road.

──── ❤︎ ────

“I’m sorry?”

He sounded like a parrot repeating the words. Kita’s soft laughter only worsened the cracks in his aching heart, chipping away at the fragile surface to make it shatter in one go.

“I feel like my family had a similar reaction,” Kita cradled his cup of coffee, “I’m getting married, Atsumu.”

He searched left and right. He scanned the features that he memorized by sight, that he wished to adore, that he wished he could hold and love someday. He was desperate. Selfish. Hoping and praying to the gods that this was a joke on him.

But time isn’t kind.

“Who?” he managed to say.

Kita smiled again. Fondly.

“Someone I met. Someone I love.”

──── ❤︎ ────

(2) Kita Rice Farms, Hyōgo

He stayed in his life.

Kita was there with Aran to watch them get revenge on Karasuno from the last games. They won a grueling game against them. He remembered turning towards the stands, his heart racing faster once he saw Kita smiling happily and clapping his hands for their win.

Kita had sent him a congratulatory message once he found out about Atsumu accepting an offer from the MSBY Black Jackals. He had even helped Osamu organize a small get-together with the rest of their teammates to send him off.

Kita’s care packages had followed him all the way to the dorms in Osaka too. He had received two. One when he first arrived as a sort of housewarming gift that contained basic necessities. Another followed after his first game which contained some practical items for his duffel bag. 

Even a bullet train away, Kita was still around.

Things were going really well for Atsumu. So well that the idea of confessing was back on the table. As far as he knew, Kita was wrapping things up with his degree in agricultural science and business. Atsumu was getting in the swing of things with MSBY too. In his mind, a relationship seemed manageable now after the transition from high school to what they were now doing.  

He could do it.

He could try to confess again.

If Atsumu was being honest with himself, his second button was haunting his pockets. He swore he could still feel it whenever he dipped his hand into his jacket. A constant reminder that Atsumu was a little shy from a confession that would ultimately hang over him for the rest of his school year.

Atsumu was ready this time. He was raring to go with some heartfelt words and swooning actions. 

He just had to find a good time.

Currently, Atsumu was staring at his phone in his room at the MSBY dorms. Everyone was getting ready to head out for a summer break before returning for a joint summer camp with some of the other divisions. Atsumu was pretty sure he was the last person in the dorm buildings. It wasn’t like he wasn’t ready. In fact, his backpack and duffel bag was packed to hop on the next train to Hyōgo. The only thing holding him back was a blank message line and a blinking cursor in the text box.

The messenger was open on Kita’s number.

He had to say something. It’s not like he could just show up at his door without a warning. Atsumu had some sense to at least text him before he arrived home, but what exactly was he supposed to say?

He sighed to himself, tentatively typing in the box, “Hey Kita… no, that seems too casual. Good afternoon, Kita? I am texting to inform… maybe a little too formal. Hi Kita, we need to talk—wait, that sounds daunting. What about—“

Ping.

A chime buzzed his phone as a new text bubble appeared.

Kita Shinsuke 

Hello, Atsumu. I hope you enjoyed the good season. Osamu told me you were coming back to Hyōgo, and I had a favor to ask of you. Do you have time?

He froze for a moment, simply staring at the screen of his phone. Atsumu looked around. Then he looked back at the phone. He looked around once more. Then he looked at his screen one more time.

Well, it was there alright.

Kita had reached out to him. Kita had texted him. He texted him first. That meant that Kita had him in mind for something he assumed was important. He was thinking about him. Kita Shinsuke was thinking about him.

That’s what Atsumu would believe to delude himself into believing there were signs of mutual feelings. He hoped there would be!

Miya Atsumu (me)

Hi Kita! Gonna get on the train in a bit, but I’ll be there by the afternoon. Lmk when you want to meet :D !

There. Casual enough to be in normal Atsumu fashion.

Atsumu shrugged his backpack straps up his shoulders before grabbing his duffel bag. He made sure that the dorm was secure before leaving the building, hurrying to catch the next bus to the train station. There was a light feeling in his chest, and for some reason he couldn’t help but to smile. Maybe he looked like some weird guy who was smiling at nothingness, but Atsumu knew he had a reason to be excited.

Finally. 

He was finally going to say something.

₊˚⊹♡

“Atsumu!”

He whipped around at the sound of Kita’s voice. Maybe a little too quickly because he could feel his head spin. Nevertheless, Atsumu waved at the other man as he stepped out of the train station building, hauling along his things to meet up with him.

He looked different.

Kita was standing in front of a blue truck. He waved him over, a small smile on his face as he patted the side of the truck's hold. He was wearing a pair of blue overalls with a white shirt, and a muted green flannel was over it all. His sleeves were rolled up, and Atsumu could tell that he was still exercising. Perhaps it wasn’t the same strength training they did at Inarizaki, but his shoulders looked stronger. 

It could be his imagination, but his whole presence just seemed bigger.

“Pardon my appearance, but laundry day took my nicer clothes,” Kita took Atsumu’s duffel bag before asking, “Are ya sure right now is okay?”

Atsumu nodded, “I have nothing planned. Might as well catch up with my old captain.”

“Let’s get on the road then. I brought ya some food in case yer hungry.”

With a cucumber roll in his hand and peach tea in his cupholder, Atsumu was introduced to a part of Hyogo he hadn’t explored. It was a long way out from where he grew up. Houses and mini markets turned to the scarce barn before the land became golden. Stalks of wheat filled miles and miles of land. Occasionally, he would see rows of green before they faded into muted colors. Some old song played on the radio, Kita humming it quietly as they turned up a road. They talked small talk along the way. Eventually, Atsumu asked what they were going to do–which in hindsight he should have asked first, but to be honest with himself, he would do anything Kita asked of him.

“I need your opinion on something,” Kita said, “A straightforward person is the best judge.”

“An opinion?” Atsumu turned to him, his mouth still full of a bite of the roll.

“Finish yer bite first.”

He swallowed, taking a sip of the tea before continuing, “What kind of opinion would need my say? You ought ‘ta be smart enough to make a good choice.”

“Hmm… let’s say that this is a different kind of thought.”

They went further into the countryside, the truck finally stopping in front of a small house. Atsumu hopped out of the truck, the worn-down soil underneath his feet crunching. The path they stood on extended for miles. It went further and further, disappearing up and over hills where there were one or two houses way out there. Atsumu turned his head towards the fields. 

It really was pretty.

He had been staying in Osaka for a bit. He was used to moving fast in the city. He was used to the sounds of cars coming and going, or the sounds of people shopping around with their friends. He was used to seeing the lights of the buildings fill up the sky at night. No one could see stars in the city, so it’d be the closest thing.

This was different from the Hyōgo he knew. 

It was warm. Serene. A place of joy and peace.

Maybe it was because Kita was here, but this place felt like home.

“This,” Kita got out of the truck, “Is where Kita Rice will grow.”

“Oh? Gonna become a businessman?”

“Took some business classes for a reason, Atsumu,” Kita gave a small shrug, “Does it suit me?”

Atsumu glanced to his side, “Is that the opinion you wanted?”

“I suppose so.”

Atsumu looked back out to the fields. He tried to picture the man out there. Kita in a denim jumpsuit, a towel around his neck, and a hat on his head for protection from the sun. He would look up at the sun, wiping away sweat from his face with the towel that hung out from the collar of his suit. He would be going down the fields with a rice knife in hand, picking out the best of his crop to be prepped for his sales. He could see him having other vegetables and produce aside from rice. Some nice gardens with seasonal demands. Flowers as a specialty. They would be picked and piled up in the hold of his truck. He’d take it to any buyers he had lined up. It seemed to be hard but honest work.

“I only have one question.”

“Hm?’

“Rice? Why rice?”

Kita placed his hands on his hips, “It’s a crucial part in a good meal. Providing a quality base and consistency will make way for other things to shine. Isn’t that right?”

Wide, wide fields of green and gold stretched before them for miles. Atsumu could see people down there, working their hands off to provide the best for people to eat. It seemed like a tough task, yet he could clearly see Kita finding happiness there. The crisp air of the countryside made Kita take a deep breath, his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips as he basked in the sun. Atsumu wasn’t sure what shined brighter at that moment, but oh…

How he loved to see him in bliss.

“It’s perfect for you,” Atsumu murmured.

Kita sighed softly, nodding with Atsumu’s words.

“I think so too.”

They went down through the fields, Atsumu sticking his arm out to let the stalks of rice brush underneath his fingertips. Kita talked about his plans, occasionally stopping to check something before they continued. Most of their time was spent winding around the fields, Atsumu carefully observing the hard work Kita put into the place. Gee, it probably wasn’t easy to grow and harvest all of it. He wondered how Kita would manage. Would he hire a team? Get a bunch of machines? Work with his family and make his own branch? 

He had a lot to think about.

“Care to join me for dinner?” Kita asked once they reached the foot of the home again, “My granny is staying in town, so it’d be nice to dine with someone for once.”

“Yes!” Atsumu immediately blurted, but he quickly calmed himself down, “Yes, that would be lovely.”

“Come on then,” Kita stepped up to the door, “Wash up while I heat up the meal.”

Atsumu shuffled up the steps, stepping on the heels of his shoes to leave them at the foot of the threshold. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he switched into a pair of guest slippers Kita pulled out for him, Atsumu walking into the house as quietly as he could. It wasn’t like there was someone he shouldn’t disturb, but there was something about being in the same house as Kita that made him want to respect the floor he walked on.

It almost sounded like worship, but that honestly wasn’t too far off the mark.

Kita’s home was a quiet little place. Hooks for jackets hung on the doorway hall, sun hats and work jackets lined against it. Some pictures were nailed in the small hall, one being Kita and his grandmother right outside in the fields. Atsumu went further into the house, passing by the simple living room to get to the kitchen. 

There, Kita was turning on the stovetop to heat a pot. He moved from the stove to the counter, reaching up into the cupboards to pull out some serving dishes.

“The bathroom is in the right hall and one door down the left. Wash up,” Kita pointed out.

“Right!”

Like a soldier, Atsumu obeyed and marched away to the bathroom. The bathroom was just as quiet and quaint as the rest of the house. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he expected. It was another ordinary place. After he finished washing his hands, he looked up at the mirror above the sink.

His hair was a little tousled. He seemed a little red too.

Atsumu splashed cold water on his face, using the water left on his fingertips to stroke it through his hair. He quickly smoothed over his bangs and undercut, tilting his head from side to side as he looked at his reflection. 

He looked good. Confession-worthy appearance, he dared to say.

Atsumu shook his hands, shaking away the nerves that lingered. Okay. Here he goes. He was going to say his bottled feelings after years. This was it. Ready or not, here he went.

Atsumu stepped back into the main rooms. He peeked into the kitchen, noticing that Kita wasn’t there any longer. Atsumu leaned towards the living area, wondering if he could be over there by chance. In an empty place, a low table and two tatami chairs were pulled out. Two wooden serving trays sat on the table, a bowl of soup accompanied by rice neatly arranged on top of it. Atsumu looked around, standing near the table to wait for the other. 

“Sit down, Atsumu.”

Kita came around him with a pitcher of lemon tea and two cups, Atsumu jolting at his sudden appearance. Where did he even come from? 

“I was in the fridge. You probably couldn’t see me because I was crouched down and the door covered me.”

Could he read minds?

Atsumu held a hand out to the seats. “Do you have a preference?”

Kita shook his head, a light-hearted laugh breathed out, “All I know is that I am hungry. Sit wherever you want, Atsumu.”

Atsumu waited a moment for Kita to settle down first, sitting in the other chair that he had left empty. Up close, he could tell what kind of soup it was. Donabe seafood soup with udon noodles. A little warm for the summer, but what could he say? It was food. A home meal made by Kita. The Kita Shinsuke. As in the possible love of his life, Kita Shinsuke. Besides, Atsumu loved seafood. 

Atsumu and Kita gave their blessings for the food. Kita mentioned, “Freshest catch of the morning. It’s been a while since I’ve had this. Hopefully, it isn’t too much for the weather right now.”

Atsumu waved a hand in dismissal, “Grub is grub! The train trip took it out of me anyway, and that roll was a snack–a good snack, by the way. I’m still starvin’. Did ya learn this from yer granny?”

“My grandpa,” Kita smiled fondly, “He loves this. It normally takes a while to prepare, but my granny wanted to take it into town for him.”

“Oh?”

“My grandpa is a home care patient in the town. He can’t be moving as much as he wants to anymore, and the conditions out here aren’t the best for him,” Kita spoke, “He used to help tend to a farther section of these fields. It’s part of the reason I chose this area. I want to continue his work in the same place. The rice here is some from my first harvest, and my granny brought some to him too. Though I’m not sure if you can tell a difference.”

Atsumu glanced at the bowl of rice next to his soup, picking up the pair of chopsticks on the rest to take a clump of it. He took the bite, chewing it slowly to savor the taste. Atsumu picked up the soup spoon, dipping it in the broth to take a sip of it with another bite of rice.

“Is it good?”

Comfort.

That was the first thought that came to mind. 

The broth tasted fresh, a lovely tasting base with the clearest taste that could satisfy his tongue for the rest of its days. The rice was perfect too, just filled with love and care that came from the working soil. He took bites of the seafood that was in the claypot, the tender meat of the fish and mussels along with the perfectly cooked noodles making him smile. It felt like something that could soothe his longest days. Hell, he could’ve used this so many times after hard training days.

“I can see why your grandpa loves this,” Atsumu nodded happily, “And this is the best rice I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

“You’re just sayin’ that.”

“I mean it!” Atsumu took another mouthful of rice, “I would be the first in line to buy this. If not me, then ‘Samu would get yer entire stock!”

Kita chuckled, “Wouldn’t that be something. An entire business fueled by a single customer.”

Atsumu and Kita talked comfortably over dinner and tea. Atsumu spoke about the club activities while Kita brought up his plans. There was something in the way that Kita spoke about his work that made Atsumu wonder. 

Wonder about his place in it.

Kita talked about the farmwork with a satisfied smile and a gleam in his hazel eyes. Atsumu was sure that people would make Kita’s crop their preferred choice. To get there, Kita had a lot of work to do. He had to make connections. He had to expand. Running a business was a busy thing. Kita was a man of routine, but Atsumu didn’t know how much room was left in it for something new.

Maybe it was a bad spot.

Maybe it was a bad time to bring up feelings.

Atsumu couldn’t help but wonder if there would be time in Kita’s life for him.

Even if Atsumu was settling down, that didn’t mean that the rest of the world followed behind him. He didn’t want to be a burden. Kita was just getting started with his life, so he had no right to butt in. He wanted Kita to enjoy his time. He wished the best for him.

After dinner ended, Kita insisted that Atsumu stay in the guestroom. The trip to their hometown was a little way away, and the night was late. Atsumu shook his head, though, already having called a relative earlier to take him back. He waited in the living room with Kita, listening to the radio that played some old song while the man shuffled through some papers. 

He wondered some more. Pondered for another moment.

By the time he was at the door, Atsumu still wanted to say it. He still wanted to say those words that he held in for years.

“Say Kita?”

“Yes?” 

He opened his mouth, the words right there on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, Atsumu smiled at the man, tucking away his heart again for the second time.

“Thank you.”

──── ❤︎ ────

“Have we ever met them?”

There wasn’t a crime in moving in life. Yet Atsumu felt like he was interrogating someone. It was as if a spotlight was right above him, blaring a white light that made his head pound and ache. His eyes were glued on Kita, following as he pulled out his phone to show pictures.

“I met her during college. We kept things quiet and private. You’d understand.”

“I don’t,” is what he wanted to say, “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you say that your heart was taken by another? I wanted to do that. It should have been me—!”

Instead, Atsumu swallowed thickly as he looked at a picture of a beautiful woman, blonde locks framing her face as she smiled brightly against Kita’s cheek.

“She’s pretty,” he said out loud.

“She’s not me,” he thought to himself once more.

──── ❤︎ ────

(3) Onigiri Miya 

The last game of the season brought a close to the fall. After a grueling, but well anticipated, game against the Schweiden Adlers, the MSBY Black Jackals had taken the title away from the three time winners. Celebrations had taken it out of him. His entire body and head was sore from the dinners and dorm shenanigans.

Yet, here he was. About to prepare for another party.

This was different.

It was time for the annual Inarizaki reunion party. Every single year, all the members of the Inarizaki team would meet up for dinner and drinks. They had to push it so close to the end of the year because of their schedules, but it was finally happening. 

This time around, Osamu was hosting. Normally, they would go out to a bar or restaurant around the area. Osamu, on the other hand, insisted on providing with Onigiri Miya rising up. With pride on his chest, he was determined to serve up a meal to kick the others off their feet. 

Of course, Atsumu was roped into helping.

“Aren’t you supposed ‘ta be an expert already?” Atsumu patted his ball of rice into a triangle. “You don’t need my help with all this!”

“Yer complain’ an awful lot fer someone who’s gonna eat half of this,” Osamu spoke without turning, his hands busy with something on the stove. 

“I’m doing free labor, ‘Samu. Of course I have the right to complain when and how I want to.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, you ready this time?”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to spit out yer feelings.”

The onigiri in his hands suddenly became a pile of mush. Grains of rice were stuck between his fingers. Atsumu cringed at the feeling of cold tuna clinging to the slots of his hands. He let the misshapen triangle fall onto the counter, narrowing his eyes at his twin as he turned around.

Osamu shook his head, “It ain’t right to waste food.”

“You got some nerve ‘ta say that when you were the one who made me do it,” Atsumu grumbled.

“S’not my fault ya can’t confront Kita without making an excuse.”

Atsumu pointed a finger at Osamu, gritting through his teeth, “Those weren’t excuses! They were bad times and you know it.”

“What about the time in between? Why didn’t you say somethin’ then?”

“That’s…”

He was supposed to be ready with a comeback. He was supposed to say something to keep Osamu off his back, but there was nothing he could say. It had been months since he had last seen Kita. There should have been time to shoot a text and ask him out for coffee, but Atsumu would always hide away the contact information on his phone. Atsumu swallowed thickly, returning back to the onigiri he was supposed to prepare.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, “I’ll get to it.”

He heard Osamu sigh. The sound of a spoon hitting the rest made him tense up. Osamu’s footsteps were slow, but Atsumu could already feel it coming. His hands were probably on his hips, ready to lecture Atsumu about being stupid for being scared.

“He won’t wait.”

Atsumu whipped around, almost flinging the rice ball in his hands across the room. Osamu took a step back, furrowing his brow at Atsumu before continuing.

“You think you have all the time in the world?” Osamu crossed his arms over his chest. “This is gonna be news to you, but the world doesn’t go by your standards. People will come and go as they please.”

Atsumu was still baffled that Osamu wasn’t giving him nagging talk. He set the onigiri down on the counter, deeply sighing as he faced his brother.

“I know. You think I don’t?” Atsumu mumbled, “I tried, ‘Samu. It was either him or me trying to build our lives, and I can’t butt into that kind of thing. There wouldn’t be time, there just wouldn’t be enough time for a relationship.”

“When will there ever be?” Osamu shrugged. “Listen, ‘Tsumu, you’ve been crushing on that man for years. It’s about time that you tell him ya love him.”

“And what if something goes wrong?”

“The worst he can do is say no, ‘Tsumu. That won’t hurt as much as never saying a damn thing.”

Osamu patted him on the shoulder before going back to work. Atsumu chewed on the inside of his cheek, his head flying through a million thoughts as he shaped more triangles. The whole team would be here. That included Kita. The farmer never missed a single one of their dinners. He was going to come through that curtain and sit down to have a good time. 

And after the team trickled out, bellies full and cheek hurting, Atsumu would wait for Osamu to go do the dishes. He’d wait until it was just him and Kita underneath the warm lamps, ready to say the words that have been bubbling in his heart for years. 

Atsumu helped Osamu get everything out. By the time the final glass was laid on the pushed together tables, people were already walking in with brighter laughs. Aran was first, hauling in a bag of dried snacks he had in stock for drinks. Gin and Akagi came together, pulling all of them in big hugs that could squeeze the air out of them. Suna shortly followed, taking quick pictures with them to post to his story: “It’s that time again” (with the beer clinking emoji). Oomimi joined the party too, bringing along the rest of their team like Riseki and Kosaku in his car. They all joined around the table, picking their seats while pulling up small notes to accompany the beers that Osamu was passing around. Atsumu fidgeted in his seat, noticing that there was only one empty seat right across from him.

“Captain! It’s not like you to be the last to arrive!”

He practically stood upright as the others called out for Kita’s name. He swore his eyes were going to roll out of his head the way he looked side to side, wondering where Kita was and how he looked like.

The man of his hour sat down right in front of him.

Oh, he was devastating. Every time he saw Kita he looked better than ever.

A small laugh lingered on Kita’s lips as he settled, looking around at the others who greeted him. A black long sleeve was rolled up to his elbows, barely concealing the fading tan he got from working the summer fields. His bangs seemed shorter. His frame still looked bigger, maybe even a little more bigger than the last time he saw him. Kita’s head finally faced forward, another smile pulling at his lips with a voice that always made Atsumu swoon.

“It’s good to be here again,” his gaze lingered on Atsumu before looking at the rest of the team, “I hope you didn’t wait too long.”

Osamu waved a hand as he set down a beer in front of Kita, “Please, Atsumu would throw out all the utensils to stop us from starting without you.”

“No I wouldn’t!” Atsumu immediately defended himself, “Besides, it’s rude to start without our old captain anyway. If anythin’, you’d be the one to start ‘Samu! Itching ‘ta get some compliments and stuff yer face with food. Hmph!”

“Oh c’mon Atsumu,” Akagi laughed, “This whole thing won’t start if you two begin to bicker. Let’s just dig in!”

“Agreed!” 

Atsumu rolled his eyes, giving a quick “thank you for the meal” before joining the rest in eating. Rounds of compliments began to bubble up as people took bites of Osamu’s cooking. He could practically see Osamu’s chest puffing up with pride from the corner of his eye. Atsumu took a helping of rice with a bite of stir-fried chicken, sighing with a content smile that melted onto his lips.

He could taste Kita’s rice. Still fresh and perfect as ever. Still the feeling of home.

Slowly, plates began to clear away, only sauces and tidbits of vegetables left behind. Cheers went around with the second round of drinks, light-hearted conversations circling around. There was some chatter about recent games, claiming that one would beat the other when the time came. Business and work talk went around as normal. Laughter jumped out. Smiles broke free. 

Finally, came the rock that would cause an avalanche of chaos.

“Are we just gonna sit and chat like our old folk do? Let’s start up some drinking games!”

“Samu, whip out the shot glasses!”

Atsumu clenched his jaw, firmly establishing one single command to himself.

“Don’t overdo it.”

Atsumu isn’t a lightweight. He could hold his weight and then some. Atsumu was normally the second-to-last person to tap out, but only because Bokuto was practically made of steel any time they went out for drinks. He swore his tolerance went up with the number of times he tried to beat his teammate at those kinds of games.

That is where his downfall lies.

 Atsumu is competitive. He is a competitive person who is currently in a room with competitive people. There was no doubt that his pride would be swelling up to show everyone who would be the one to drink to victory.

The only times Atsumu had gotten incredibly drunk were at these parties.

He couldn’t overdo it. 

If he was going to confess to Kita tonight, he did not want to be drunk. He didn’t want a single cloud of tipsiness to haze his mind. Atsumu was going to either reject participation or win every game. That way, he would have a crystal clear mind to confront the love of his life. Atsumu didn’t have to worry about Kita getting drunk. The man didn’t take part. He usually would be the one to keep score or judge fairness. 

“Are you joining us this time, Kita?” Osamu waggled an empty shot glass to him, “Been saving this fer ya fer a while.”

Atsumu expected to hear the same polite response. 

“Why not?”

What.

Atsumu watched as Kita took the shot glass from Osamu, setting it down in front of himself and next to a half-empty pint of beer. Okay. This wouldn’t be an issue. Kita Shinsuke was a sensible man who knew his limits. Surely he would tap out when it was his time. Atsumu had nothing to worry about.

That is what he said two shots ago.

So why were Kita’s cheeks turning a dusty pink?

They were knee deep in a game of Never Have I Ever. So far, and surprisingly, Suna had taken the fair share of shots. He supposed that it had something to do with Suna posting embarrassing high school photos whenever it was a teammate's birthday, because this year had pulled out pictures that were meant to be burned out of existence. Atsumu cringed so hard when he was reminded of one of his first fan day events with the Jackals through an HD photo. He knew what he was doing.

Thankfully, Kita wasn’t a target for the game. The others were probably scared to make him put a finger down. He had only done it twice, putting two shots on his roster.

Two shots in and he was growing a blush.

Atsumu had a sneaking suspicion that their dear captain wasn’t strong in one aspect.

“Let’s see, let’s see,” Gin hummed as he looked around, “Never have I ever… had a first kiss.”

A round of sighs and groans went around, shots of tequila being poured out to be taken. Gin looked around, smugly smiling as he took his first shot of the night. He held his empty glass up, “Worth it. I took one out of everyone.”

“Except Atsumu.”

Atsumu looked across from him. Kita was getting his shot glass filled by Aran, his head tilted down at Atsumu’s empty glass. His sight trailed back up, hazel eyes nearly matching the color of the alcohol that sat in the small cup.

“Seriously?” Suna spoke after throwing back his shot. He raised an eyebrow at him, “You sure?”

“Trust me,” Osamu rolled his eyes, “Tsumu has never kissed a girl or boy in his life.”

“What? You’d think with all the people who fawn over him, he’d at least kiss one person.” Akagi raised his brows.

“His head is too full of volleyball for the idea of romance,” Gin teased.

Atsumu’s head wasn’t there right now. He wasn’t thinking about the volleyball games that they talked about earlier. He wasn’t thinking about the barrage of teasing directed at him. He wasn’t even at the dinner party right now, a spotlight shining down where Atsumu and Kita sat.

He was taking a shot.

Kita was taking a shot of tequila, his nose scrunching slightly as he took it down. Atsumu’s eyes drifted down with the glass, focusing on a single droplet left behind. 

He had his first kiss.

Atsumu’s head ran through the possibilities. In the same way that he’d run down courses on the court, his head was filing through the scenarios that Kita could have been in. His first kiss at the school courtyard when he was a first-year student. A kiss on the university campus with someone he met. A peck on the lips from someone he grew close to in one of the many towns he shipped to. Perhaps even a messy kiss at a party, lights strobing, and hearts pounding as music filled souls with desire.

His head tried to fill in the spaces of the possible mystery person who kissed Kita, but he couldn’t picture it. In every instance, Atsumu could only see himself.

 It could have been him. 

Why didn’t he beat the other person to it?

“Never have I ever… embarrassed myself during a fan day event by wearing a–”

“Now that’s just targeted!” Atsumu cried out.

The games slowly trudged along, bottles emptying as more rounds were pulled out. Atsumu’s glass stayed relatively empty, the stray shot sent his way when he passed up a truth during Truth or Dare (Osamu asked him what happened to his favorite Le Crust oven). When it began to die down, they moved over to the counter, taking more drinks down as if the night would never end. He could already tell that some people were going to be sloshed by the end of the party. 

However, he didn’t take into account that Kita would be it. Once again, a surprise because Kita had only taken three shots the entire night.

“Ah, who’d think that the winner would be the loser too?” Osamu shook his head with a chuckle as they cleaned up the dishes.

A rosy-cheeked Kita was sleeping on the counter, his arms crossed and his head resting against it. Atsumu huffed a small sound, but whether it was amusement or frustration would be a mystery. Truly, who would think that their captain did have weak points?

“I’ll go get a taxi fer him. Watch ‘em, kay ‘Tsumu?”

“I don’t think he’ll go anywhere,” he turned to tell Osamu, but his brother was already out the door by then.

Street noises were muted, the city outside dying down as people retreated to their homes for the night. They were probably going home to loved ones, ready to spend their last hours of the day with the person they thought about the most. 

Here, Atsumu was with the person who consumed his dreams and heart, sound asleep. Here, at the small restaurant his brother owned, Atsumu was left with the same words on his chest. How long? How much longer would he have to swallow down his feelings to save for another day?

The lights of cars and scooters passing by flickered through the curtains of the restaurant. It was quiet, so quiet that Atsumu could hear Kita’s soft breathing as his head rested on the counter. Atsumu stared at him, his head slowly lowering down to level with the other man. All while he kept his eyes on him.

Kita’s lashes stayed still against his cheeks, a flush of red across his face from the alcohol. It almost seemed like a peachy color, but that was because of the soft yellow lanterns that hung above. Atsumu wished he could reach out and touch his skin. He wished he could say his piece when he was awake.

“I like you, Kita Shinsuke,” he murmured as he extended his hand out to him, his pinky finger only a centimeter away from the other, “I like you so much it hurts.”

His heartbeat thumped in his ears, and his throat was dry just from saying those words so close to the older man. Atsumu’s fingers shook as he dared to reach a little further–be a little closer to him– as his fingertips just grazed the apple of his cheek–

Kita shifted away, stirring as he readjusted to burying his head into the crook of his elbows. Atsumu pulled back, holding his breath until the man stilled. 

“Taxi is outside!”

He exhaled. Slowly. Enough to let his bubbling feelings settle and retreat into the cave it made in his heart.

“C’mon, Kita. You have to go home.”

──── ❤︎ ────

“We met on one of my trips home.”

More photos of the woman and Kita were swiped through. Photos that he had never seen in his life. Photos of moments that he dreamed of having with Kita one day. Kita retold the story of how they met on campus, both moving out of the dorms for the summer vacation. She couldn’t drive, but Kita could. She was on the way back to town, so Kita was kind enough to offer a ride. She studied environmental science, and Kita adored the outdoors. She had a good appetite, and Kita’s affection was providing. She had a laugh that matched the sun, and Kita loved the sun.

The light was dying in Atsumu’s eyes. An extinguishing star that had clung to life was coming to an end.

Kita placed his phone down next to the ivory envelope. Their hands were close, Atsumu’s fingers close enough to graze his knuckles.

Only now did Atsumu notice a golden band on his ring finger.

Atsumu pulled his hand back, retreating away from the close proximity.

“Why me?” Atsumu croaked out, “Why not me?” he said to himself.

Confusion washed over Kita for a second as if the answer was so obvious. He smiled again, and for once, Atsumu wished he couldn’t see the rare sight.

“Because you mean a lot to me, Atsumu.”

──── ❤︎ ────

(4) Ariake Arena, 2020 Summer Olympics, Tokyo

The biggest stage of his life at the age of twenty-five was only a ride away, but Atsumu’s mind was still elsewhere.

In the small lounge area of the Olympic Village, half of the team joined for a quick meal before heading down for a late practice session. Atsumu was practically chewing on the wooden chopsticks they were given, gnawing a notch on them until Bokuto’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Did you hear what we were saying, Tsum-Tsum?”

Atsumu glanced up, realizing that several eyes were staring right at him. He looked around, pulling the chopsticks away from his lips and setting them down. 

“Didn’t catch it.” Atsumu plucked a napkin. “What happened?”

“We’re asking if you’re nervous,” Ushijima Wakatoshi, their team captain and an acquaintance, spoke, “If you are feeling tense, you have no reason to be. I have seen your plays and they are–”

“No need to give me a pep talk Ushiwaka,” Atsumu waved him off. 

“You do look tense though,” Hinata, who was sitting next to him, frowned, “Something on your mind?”

“Bet it's Kita again,” Suna quipped from the corner of the table.

“Actually…”

The whole table placed their things down, a huff or two going around as they prepared to listen to Atsumu’s yearning for the nth time. 

Since Atsumu had kept his feelings in for so long, he felt the growing need to share them with someone. He happened to be on a volleyball team with people he grew close to. He just so happened to be on the Japan National Team with several people he knew too. So, his feelings for Kita were eventually brought out. Suna and Aran said they called it, so he figured that the rest of the Inarizaki team knew too, thought he didn’t think he was that obvious.

Nevertheless, Atsumu had outlets everywhere. 

“Here we go again.”

He knew they were probably tired of it, but who else was Atsumu supposed to go to?

“Why don’t you just tell Kita how you feel?” Sakusa leaned back in his chair. “You practically practiced with all of us.”

He could always try that again.

“I need a perfect time,” Atsumu groaned, pushing his hair back with both hands. “Don’t think you’d understand. You and Wakatoshi there just had to look at each other and know.”

The two looked at each other for confirmation. Sakusa’s mask lifted up by a fraction, Atsumu already knowing that there was a small smile behind the fabric. Everyone murmured in agreement, but they also agreed that they were on a different level when it came to relationships.

“But seriously, you should try to say something to him!” Aran joined, “You can't keep waiting on things like this. Even if it doesn’t go well, Shinsuke won’t shatter your heart.”

“Ya sound just like ‘Samu.”

“Maybe you need an incentive!” Hinata nudged Atsumu, “You keep saying there isn’t a right time, so why not make one? If that makes sense.”

Bokuto snapped his fingers, “I get it! It’s like that one time that Kuroo said he’d buy us dinner if he scored a one hundred on the karaoke machine. Only this time, Atsumu would confess if he did something!”

“That’s like saying if I breathe, I have to confess.” Atsumu rolled his eyes.

“How about winning gold?” Suna suggested. 

“Oh? We’re already planning to do that anyway,” Atsumu smirked, “Do ya think that’s a far off goal?”

“No, but it’d be a pretty movie-esque scene,” Suna sat up, turning to Aran to act out, “Hey there, I’m an Olympic winner. Check out this sweet medal. Makes you want to go on a date with me, hm?”

Aran exaggerated his expression, fanning his hands over his face, “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” he gasped.

“Kita wouldn’t react like that,” Atsumu mumbled.

“Probably not,” Aran shrugged.

Suna matched the other’s gesture. He pointed out, “But it will give you a confidence boost. There’s nothing that gives more adrenaline than winning an Olympic medal as the entire world watches.” 

“Or perhaps you can do it when you are truly ready? This isn’t something to rush into either if you do not feel like it’s time.” Ushijima suggested. Sakusa nodded as well.

Atsumu returned to his food, shaking his head at the others. “I’ll figure it out.”

Atsumu has had a crush on Kita since he was fifteen or sixteen. Atsumu was now twenty-five and still holding the same feelings in his heart. He was loving the man for a decade but didn’t have the courage to say a single word about it. When would there be time to “figure it out”? Did he really need to find a reason or could he just go for it?

Winning gold…

That wasn’t a bad idea the more he mulled over it. They were called the Monster Generation. Some of the most promising and talented players were on the roster, including seasoned players who had been to the Olympics before. They had strong points everywhere. From the corner to the inside, Japan had a good shot at placing at the podium.

He wondered what it would be like.

Atsumu would go to Kita’s home for a visit. He’d wonder if Kita was watching. Kita would say yes because he wanted to see the juniors he was proud of preform their best. Atsumu would pull the gold metal out of his bag, holding it out towards Kita before asking, “Trade ya this medal fer a date?”. Kita would wonder why. Atsumu would say, “A date with you would be worth more than the highest podium on the biggest stage.”

Romantic. Cheesy. Atsumu liked both.

As he ate away at his food, Atsumu carefully tucked the idea away for later.

Maybe it was something.

₊˚⊹♡

“Hey ‘Samu.”

Right before they entered the arena for the game against Argentina, Atsumu made a phone call home. He promised he would. Atsumu talked to his grandma first, reassuring her that everything was alright and that he wasn’t worried about anything. His mom got on too, telling him to make sure to get a photo of him, Suna, and Aran together in their uniforms.

Finally, he was passed onto Osamu.

“Well, well, well. Am I talking to the scrub who’s Japan’s second setter?”

“I will hang up.”

“Still a big achievement to get in there and I know yer gonna be on screen,” Osamu chuckled, “Plan on placing?”

“Gold, duh.”

“Plan on confessing if ya do?”

Atsumu pulled away the phone from his ear to stare at it. He brought it back, “How did you—“

“Seems like a ‘Tsumu thing to do. Cheesy. Corny. A very movie-esque type of scene.”

“Gee, you hang around Suna too much.”

“And you take ideas from ‘im. So? What happens if gold isn’t in sight?”

“Then… I don’t know.”

Osamu sighed through the line. There was some shuffling. A couple of clinks and muffled murmurs were around, the sound fading as Osamu walked somewhere else. A quiet hum filled the silence.

“Tsumu, you have to say something eventually,” Osamu worded himself slowly as if to carefully craft it. “What are you waiting for? The end of the world? I bet that you’d even hold back if that were to happen.” 

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying that—“

“It’s better to say it than say nothin’. I know.”

“Then say it. Y’know, if ya really want a “purpose” then you should know Kita is comin’.”

Atsumu perked up, “Really?”

“He’s gonna watch yer matches since three of you are there,” he referred to Aran and Suna. “Bringing his granny to chat with ours—which she is arriving in a bit by the way. It should be a good time.”

“He’s gonna watch,” Atsumu absentmindedly mumbled.

“Anyway, that should give you some sort of reason. Just do it already! I gotta finish up closing. Don’t mess up yer first serve if they tag you in!”

“Wait a damn—!”

The line cut off, Atsumu staring at the profile photo of a 0.5 angle he took of Osamu. He clicked his tongue, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Atsumu buried away the conversation, reinforcing his focus on what lies ahead. The game. Practice. An outcome. A goal.

A confession.

The idea slowly prodded its way back to the surface as Atsumu set up tosses for the spikers. It took root as he practiced his serves, the booming sound of the volleyball against the floor only reinforcing it. The idea began to grow as he slipped into the Olympic jersey, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they went out as a team.

By the time the roars of crowds reached his ears, Atsumu was dead set on it. 

If they win gold, he’ll confess to Kita Shinsuke.

₊˚⊹♡

The solid echo of the Mikasa ball falling on their side of the court caused two different reactions.

The uproarious cheers from Argentina’s team and their fans. Oikawa Tooru on the other side with a beaming smile as he defeated rivals he had longed to have a rematch with. People continued to clap, shout, and yell with their hearts.

Then there were the defeated smiles of the Japan National team. Grins came from his teammates, sweat dripping down their chins as they sighed up to the bright lights. Their fans were still cheering and applauding them for a game well done. They missed a chance at the podium, but someone once told him that good plays still deserved praise, even if they didn’t win.

There was a third feeling out there on the court.

It formed when he was called onto the court as a pinch served. The squeak of his shoes against the PVC vinyl floor. Accompanied his thoughts that morphed into one. Soared high with his toss and peaked once it flew to the other side, bouncing off the defense’s arms with a loud boom. Atsumu yelled with the crowds, his heart pounding against his chest as it yearned for more. More time, more energy, more love.

And when his time was up, Atsumu went to the bench starving for another taste.

It hit Atsumu that a moment was fleeting. A minute or so on the court could fly by, but an eternity could be spent watching from the sidelines. Years could pass on words unspoken, but the dragging minutes was all it took to be one second too late.

He couldn’t waste more time.

Gold or not, Atsumu had to go home.

He had to tell Kita how he felt.

──── ❤︎ ────

(5) Ayumi’s Sweets, one week after the Olympics 

When the final JNT activities settled, Atsumu practically bolted back to the MSBY dorm building. He rushed into the dorms, tossing his bag on the couch and beelining for his closet. He should change and then call Kita. He couldn’t go confess in athletic wear. No, he should call then change. When was the next train to Hyōgo? He had to find  that out first. Or maybe he should call. Just call!

Atsumu fished his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across the screen to pull up Kita’s contact.

He paced around his room, clearing his throat as he practiced.

“Hey, Kita! I got back from Tokyo and was wondering if you’d want to grab coffee? I’m on my way home right now, so I can meet you up right away. No pressure!”

“No pressure?” Atsumu muttered to himself, “That just sounds like pressure. What about… hi Kita, I wanted to know if you’d like to grab a cup of joe—nobody calls coffee “joe” here, Atsumu.” he tapped his phone against his head. He sighed, trying again, “Kita—“

His phone started to vibrate, his heart swooping down at the caller ID

Kita Shinsuke is calling…

launched his phone onto the bed. Surely Atsumu didn't dial him by mistake. Maybe Kita dialed his number by mistake. Maybe he meant to call the other Miya, his brother, to tell him something about the next shipment. Yeah. That had to be it.

The caller ID faded away.

Then, it jumped back to life, ringing once again.

Okay.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a mistake.

Atsumu cautiously stepped towards the bed, carefully picking up the phone that rested against the mattress. He let out a deep breath, taking a moment to collect himself before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Atsumu? Are you at the dorms right now?”

“Hm? Oh. Oh, yes! I just got back with everyone else. Is something up?”

“I’m actually in town right now and I’d love to catch up. Do you have time to grab some coffee?”

Huh?

Could he read his mind? How did he know that Atsumu was about to do the same? Atsumu took a quick look around the room, wondering if there was the slightest chance of the walls being bugged. No, that couldn’t be right. Kita’s never been to the dorms.

“Atsumu?” the line repeated, “Atsumu?”

“Oh… oh, sorry!” Atsumu shook his head, “Yes, yes I can get coffee. I love coffee. Where can we get coffee?”

Kita chuckled softly, “I know a little place.”

After receiving the address from Kita, Atsumu grabbed his MSBY jacket and went right out the door with what he had on. At least it was a nicer set of black athletic clothes. 

The café was close to the dorms. He recalled passing by the shop often and Bokuto was particularly fond of their maple pecan spiced cake. Apparently his boyfriend recommended it, soon becoming a quick favorite for the wing spiker. Sakusa liked their americanos. When Hinata was in the Jackals, he would get their box of weekly specialty cookies and bring it to the dorms to share. He would eat everything they’d bring, but Atsumu didn’t seek coffee too often. A packet of instant coffee was enough for him.

The soft yellow lights of Ayumi’s Sweets greeted him as he walked two blocks from the dorms. He looked both ways before crossing, his eyes on the door of the café as he stepped closer. His heart began to race when he caught a glimpse of Kita through the windows, the man sitting at a table near the back with two cups of coffee, steaming as if freshly brewed. 

He pushed open the door to the small cafe, the owner greeting him with a cheery smile. The environment was warm, hanging plants still beside the string lights that covered the place. Cute signs with their slogan, “For a Sweet Day!” were placed around the brick exposed walls along with other posters. Even near the entrance, there was an advertisement that Bokuto had done for one of the many coffees they used. He wondered if the owners were fans of him or MSBY.

“Kita!” Atsumu waved as he approached the table, “I didn’t expect you to be here. Weren’t you already in town last week?”

Kita gave a soft hum as Atsumu sat down. “A lot has happened in the past months. There are a couple more restaurants I ship to here now, so I’m passing by more often. I figured I might as well catch up with some people who swore they’d make me proud.”

Atsumu had the urge to puff out his chest. He rubbed the back of his head, “Hehe, we sure did wow a lot of people at the games.”

“I’m all ears.”

A splash of cream and sugar made his coffee sweet. Atsumu chatted about the Olympics and training leading up to it while Kita listened attentively. Suna and Aran probably had their own stories to tell, so he didn’t get into too much detail with their experiences. Kita had expanded his business to new regions, so he had explained how his deliveries would change. He would be coming into Osaka more often to leave shipments for another driver to take to the further regions. Things were going really well for the both of them.

“It seems that our lives are reaching heights unknown,” Kita glanced to his cup of coffee, “Isn’t that nice?”

“It is.”

Atsumu gathered courage. They were both in good moods. Now was the time to—

“I have something to tell you,” Kita was reaching for something in his pocket.

“What is it?” Atsumu brought his cup of coffee up to his lips.

“I’m engaged.”

He said it as if it was a normal thing to bring up out of the blue. He said it so calmly that Atsumu froze, taking a solid minute to process the two words that bounced around his head.

Atsumu set down his cup with a solid “thunk”.

He stared blankly, a sinking feeling growing in his chest as an ivory colored envelope was placed between them.

And that is how they arrived at this moment.

“I don’t understand,” is what he almost says after he hears everything. “You never told us about her,” is what he manages to muster.

Atsumu doesn’t necessarily listen completely as Kita explains. He tried. He tried so hard to listen, but all he could focus on was how Kita smiled as he spoke about her. All he could see was the subtle lift in his cheeks as every fond word hung off his lips with the curve of his lips. 

Love.

Kita Shinsuke was in love.

He was getting married. 

“You mean a lot to me, Atsumu,” he repeated, “That is why you are the first person I’m giving this invitation to. I would really love for you to be there to support me.”

No.

No, it couldn’t be true.

It had to be some cruel nightmare. Why? Why now? Just when he was about to take action, why was this brought up? Is that why he initially called him out? To invite him to his wedding? No, no, that had to be some sick joke on him. How could the world sling this over his shoulders and expect him to move forward without a care in the world?

Everything in his soul told him to scream. He wanted to rip open the envelope and scratch out her name, replacing the golden letters with the inky black writing of his name. He wanted to spill out every single word he compiled for ten years, hoping and praying that it would make the other change his mind about all this. He only wanted a chance, just a single chance to prove his worth to the other!

But…

He looked so happy.

In every photo, in every breath he took to speak about her, Kita Shinsuke was happy.

Isn’t that his goal? Isn’t that what Atsumu wants most for him?

He felt sick. 

But Atsumu swallowed down the bile in his throat, his hand trembling slightly as he moved it away from his cup of coffee. Atsumu reached for the envelope, pulling it closer to his side as he did his best to smile.

“Of course I’ll be there. Congratulations, Kita! I’m happy for you.”

Kita smiled again. Over and over again.

“Thank you. I’m really looking forward to it.”

Atsumu left the café with a strange feeling. He waved goodbye to Kita, wishing him the best until he saw him again at the wedding. He walked forward with odd steps. They weren’t light, but they weren’t heavy. He felt like he was floating, but his head hurt. His entire body was riddled with static and his senses were muted. He kept trudging onward, glancing towards the dorm building as he passed by the entrance.

He walked further.

Further.

Further until he reached the familiar streets of restaurants and small shops, his eyes trailing over the cloth banner of Onigiri Miya waving with a gentle whisk of air. He skipped the entrance to the restaurant, going to the door on the other side of the building. It was his day off. He went up the wooden steps, his eyes flickering to the yellow light that was on above the door to the upstairs apartment. Like clockwork, Atsumu reached down beneath the welcome mat, fetching the spare key that Osamu kept around. He unlocked the door, slipping out of his sport shoes and taking out the slippers beneath the shoe cabinet. Purposely left there for Atsumu.

“Tsumu?” the tv playing some cooking show was lowered. Osamu appeared from the tiny living room, rubbing his eyes as he went around the couch. He stared at Atsumu, tilting his head to the side. “Is everything okay?”

The envelope fell out from his jacket pocket.

“Kita is getting married.”

Laughing came from the television. Osamu’s eyes widened. The envelope fluttered to the ground, landing right beneath Atsumu’s foot.

“Tsumu, I’m—“

“Can ya help me pick out a groomsmen suit? I’m assumin’ he’s gonna ask ya too.”

Osamu glanced down at the invitation. He shook his head slightly, reaching out to Atsumu before the sound of his phone cut him off. Osamu looked back to the couch, picking up his phone from the cushions.

“Kita is calling me,” he simply stated.

Atsumu huffed out a small sound.

“Go. I’ll be okay.”

“Tsumu—“

“I wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Osamu immediately knew the meaning behind his words. Because Atsumu’s lips were trembling behind a small smile, his eyes prickling at the corners as he managed to muster out:

“You don’t want to take too long like I did.”

──── ❤︎ ────

“Congratulations to the newlyweds!”

The ceremony was beautiful. It was a pretty little place, only close family and friends invited for the special day. Red and green was the theme because it reminded the bride and groom of nature while also being compliments to one another. Kita had never looked so dashing in a black and white suit, his hair pushed back and a rose clip accompanying his red silk tie. His bride was pretty too, her a-line dress flattering her shoulders and slim figure. Her blonde hair was curled to perfection, bouncing as she danced on the floor with Kita. Bright grins were on their faces. 

Atsumu downed another flute of champagne, stepping away from the reception. He went outside, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. The reception hall was somewhere quiet, a forest reserve nearby in case people wanted an outside venue. Atsumu stepped further away from the building, loosening his black tie as he sat himself at the foot of a heavy oak tree. Laughter could still be heard from where he was.

He brought his knees close to his chest. Swallowed thickly. Bit his lip.

The crunching of twigs and dirt didn’t make him look up. Two other figures sat at either side of him, arms wrapping around him. 

“It’s okay.”

Aran.

“It’s not like ya to hold back.”

Osamu.

Laughter. Smiles. The smell of champagne and sweet cake frosting. A beautiful dress fluffing up. A suit tailcoat whipping around. The cheers of the families as the two kiss, soft and tender with smiles ghosting the corner of their lips.

Globs of tears slipped down his cheeks. His shoulders shook beneath Aran and Osamu’s arms, Atsumu burying his head deeper into his arms. He sobbed. Quietly. Yet it felt loud, enough to drown out the chirping of crickets in the grass and the muffled music from indoors. Atsumu cried for the first time in a long while, hiccuping and sniffling as tears endlessly flowed against his skin.

“I took too long,” he squeaked out, “I took too long.”

──── .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. ────

A MONTH AFTER KITA’S WEDDING

Bokuto Koutarou is said to be an emotionally intelligent man. Many people may see him as someone who fools around with a boisterous personality, but he can read people quite well. 

So despite the several deflections behind wide smiles of Miya Atsumu, Bokuto knew his teammate was struggling with heartbreak. He saw it in the way he took too long to retort. He noticed how his chopsticks almost hesitated to take a bite of rice. He could feel it in the claps against his shoulder.

“Tsum-tsum! Let’s go out for drinks!” 

Bokuto flopped over the top of the couch, pulling at Atsumu’s hoodie to get him up. He and Meian were planning to go out, so what better time to invite his fellow friend to drinks? The setter was sprawled on the couch, his hood up and cinched to cover his face. Atsumu grunted, half-heartedly kicking his ankle up to shoo Bokuto away.

“C’mon, you’ve been in the dorms too long! Let’s go out, yeah? It might make you feel better,” Bokuto pouted, pushing Atsumu’s ankle down to stop him.

“He’s right, Atsumu,” Meian’s voice came from around the corner, “It’ll be my treat if you come.”

Atsumu curled deeper into himself. Bokuto and Meian shared a look.

“They have really good burgers, Tsum-tsum.”

“Their fries are even better. Especially with a nice pint of Japan’s finest beer,” Meian whistled lowly as if he was driving a selling point.

Atsumu looked up at them from his hoodie cave. He pulled down the hood, disheveled blond hair sticking up from all angles as Atsumu sat up.

“Give me five.”

Bokuto knew that Atsumu wasn’t one to drink to match his despair, but he figured that some good food in his system would lighten his mood. It made Bokuto feel better when he was down.

He never thought he would be sad watching someone eat a burger though. Especially when it was a melt in your mouth, perfectly seasoned, and the softest bun in the world type of burger.

Jazz music played above them, a singer on the stage tapping her heel as she went along with the words. Around them, other people were enjoying their food and drinks, some gathered around the counter or the bar while others hovered near the live entertainment. Meian leaned against the counter with his elbow and hand propped up, tilting his cheek against it while his other hand held a glass of whiskey. Bokuto was on the other side, frowning softly as they both looked between them.

Atsumu was nibbling at the burger, his head against the table as he picked at it with his fingers. He had been crying for the past hour, his tears only stopping for brief moments when he would take a drink or a bigger bite.

Meian sighed softly, “Atsumu.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Meian looked at Bokuto. Bokuto lowered down to Atsumu’s level, resting his head against the counter with a small huff.

“You know you can’t power through these kinds of things, right?” Bokuto murmured.

“What would you know about it?” Atsumu scoffed, turning his head away from Bokuto.

“A lot, actually. Do you think I’m always happy go-lucky? You should know best that I am not happy all the time, Atsumu.”

He turned his head at the full name address.

Bokuto lifted his head up, folding his arms beneath it for cushioning. He continued, “Mm… you know I used to be really moody in high school. A lot of people connected me with that. Naturally, many people assumed I would be the same now, but things have changed. I learned to accept that everything can’t be a certain way. I had to adapt and continue.”

“When I first fell in love, I thought we would stay together forever,” Bokuto recalled, “But dreams are bigger than they seem. And sometimes it’s more important to focus on those dreams first.”

He thinks about his first love. He thinks about the sadness he felt when blue eyes watered, a soft voice telling him that they needed to rethink their paths. He thinks about their last touch, a hand gently pushing away a tear that slipped down his cheek.

He smiles when he says, “And sometimes, you can see other things you haven’t noticed before when you are given a moment to step away.”

He thinks about the love he didn’t notice. He thinks about the relief flooding through whiskey colored eyes, a grin he didn’t realize how much he loved pressed against his lips with laughter.  A soft word was murmured between them and realization came to him with that. 

“Things take time, and time isn’t kind,” Bokuto patted Atsumu’s shoulder, “Someday, you will find your way back around to happiness. It just isn’t now.”

“It takes many tries,” Meian added, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Ya think that I got together with my wife the first time? That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

Meian set down his glass. He crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, “My Shiori was very nervous about the future. She didn’t want to rush into things until she was certain about her choices. I liked to dive head first into what I knew I wanted. There were times where we thought we couldn’t work.”

“Y’know, things would get hard to the point I’d want to give in. To a point in which I thought I could never be happy,” he shook his head. Meian touched Atsumu’s shoulder, “But you know what? We came around to each other. Over and over again. There will be someone waiting for you, Atsumu. You just have to give it time.”

Atsumu sniffled, “I don’t want to wait. I knew what I wanted. I just never got the chance to say a single damn thing.”

The music seemed to fade away as Atsumu’s cries continued, both Meian and Bokuto rubbing their teammates' shoulders. Neither of them knew what else to do. Atsumu seemed determined to reject their comfort as he’d wallow away in a half eaten burger and a pint of beer. Bokuto got closer to Atsumu, enveloping him in a half embrace while Meian kept a steady hand on his back.

“Sometimes we can’t get that chance. Someday, you’ll be okay with that.”

──── .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. ────

THREE MONTHS AFTER KITA’S WEDDING

If Suna Rintarou had to bet on one thing, it would be his ability to convince people to do what he wants. No, it isn’t manipulation, by the way.

Miya Atsumu, his best friend, had decided to move out of the MSBY dormitory building into an apartment of his own. They thought that it would be a good change for Atsumu. After the heartache he had with Kita, Suna believed that something new to focus on would take away his sorrows for a little while. He had to move in, find new furniture, and make the place his home. He had to get his mind off Kita. 

It had been a month since he moved into his apartment.

Not a single box had been touched.

Atsumu had only been going through his duffle bag and backpack for what he needed. No boxes had been unpacked. Logically, someone ought to help Atsumu get settled in and get away from the clutter that was in his apartment.

So, he decided to take Atsumu along on their train trip.

One may say that it’s counter productive, but Suna begged to differ otherwise. 

Their train trip was planned according to the Hanwa Line which would start at the Osaka prefecture and travel to the Wakayama prefecture. Maybe they would get inspired by the Japanese castles to find some sort of theme for Atsumu’s apartment, even if it was only floor mats. In the cities, they could look around at the shops for more ideas and get some good food. He thought that it would be an ideal situation to take Atsumu out of his dark, not so homey apartment complex.

Osamu had been wanting to do the train trip to taste around for new recipe ideas too. It was a whole bundle!

Or so he thought because apparently, even the sight of the grand Wakayama Castle at a distance couldn’t get a single sound out of Atsumu. Well, there was a sentence…

“Kita probably likes this.”

But that wasn’t helping his case.

As they got closer to their destination, Osamu was practically staring daggers at Atsumu. The blond twin was too preoccupied staring wistfully out the window to notice. There was a far-away type of look in his eyes, Atsumu’s stare shifting and readjusting each time the train trudged along. 

“Get out of your head,” Osamu had firmly said.

Atsumu’s eyelids flinched, but he didn’t say anything.

“It’s been a couple of months now, ‘Tsumu. You can’t stay holed up in your place to wallow away. Ya need to do something.”

“I am doing something,” Atsumu muttered back, “I play, I work, I go home.”

“That’s not—“ Osamu gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before gesturing to Suna.

Suna cleared his throat, “Let me be real with you, Atsumu. You look like shit. Your routine is shitty. Do I even have to mention the state of your one month old apartment?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes.

“You keep shutting yourself out, but that isn’t going to revert time. That isn’t going to let you go back and confess. What happened has happened.”

Hard truth. Atsumu clenches his jaw.

“So, you have to focus “the now”, Atsumu,” Suna stood up from his seat once the train came to a halt, “Unpack all your feelings. Unpack, literally.”

“And we didn’t invite you out to scold you,” Osamu added, “Well, kinda—but the point is we want you to know that you can talk to us.”

“He won’t admit it, but Osamu always had a plate and a movie ready for you because he believed you’d come to crash for comfort,” Suna nudged him, “Even gave up date nights for it.”

“You turned down Rin for me?” Atsumu murmured to Osamu, “More importantly, you turned down Akaashi for me?”

“I know right,” Suna chuckled, “but we understood. I’d do the same for my sister. Keiji would do the same for his friends. Shame though because the double dates we had turned very steamy and the photos we sent—“

“Okay, no, no, no,” Osamu waved his hand, standing up hurriedly, “Castle! It’s castle time, let’s stop talking, yeah?”

Suna snickered, gesturing to Atsumu to follow them. Finally getting out of the train seats felt good. A stretch in the station, a breath of fresh air, and pleasant weather brought everything together for a lovely day. Perfect for sightseeing, perfect for exploring.

The train leaves. The sight is clear. Birds chirp as people head towards the tours of Wakayama Castle. The white and green colored buildings sat upon a hill, pretty colored trees surrounding it at the peak of the season.

“It still hurts,” Atsumu says quietly.

Suna hums a sound just as quietly.

“And that’s a start.”

──── .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. ────

SIX MONTHS AFTER KITA’S WEDDING

Hinata Shouyou learned the necessity of balance. 

A time for everything. A place for everything. He maintained a well balanced lifestyle that allowed him to grow and thrive.

So when a phone call from Sakusa alerted Hinata that Atsumu was in desperate need of a vacation, Hinata was more than happy to invite Atsumu over to Brazil. 

Hinata heard that Atsumu was heartbroken by the sudden news of his first love getting married. His friend didn’t stir up the courage to confess until that same day he was given the invitation. Sakusa had called him to share something that concerned him and the rest of the team. After a few months of sorrow, something snapped in Atsumu. He started to throw himself into everything he did. He was glued to the practice gym on break days. He took up rock climbing and had an expensive membership. He rearranged his apartment at least twice a month. He took classes for calligraphy because his mother wanted him to learn. There was so much Atsumu threw himself into.

It was like he was trying to keep himself mentally and physically busy 24/7.

“Atsumu!” Hinata had greeted him at the airport with a smile and hug, Atsumu laughing in return as he enveloped himself around Hinata. 

On the outside, he seemed to be doing alright.

But on the inside, Hinata could tell that the man was antsy. Too anxious to be alone with his thoughts. In need of a distraction to keep him away from it. Atsumu was someone who was tough as nails when it came to the opinions of others on him, but he assumed it was different when love was involved.

For the first couple of days, Hinata takes Atsumu around town. He shows him his favorite restaurants. They go stand in front of Christ the Redeemer. He gets Atsumu a highlighter orange souvenir shirt and a pair of sunglasses. Most days, they would go to the beach. Sometimes they would watch people play. It would be anything, really, whether it was beach volleyball or a game of frisbee. They would join the volleyball games, Atsumu slowly growing used to the sand. 

But most days, they just sat on the sand. They would listen to the crashing waves, soaking in the sun that bathed them. Atsumu seemed to find some peace in it. Sometimes he would get close to the shore, his shoes and socks  in his hands as he felt the water against the soles of his feet.

Nevertheless, it was nice to see Atsumu wind down. However, every time he tried to hint at conversing about Atsumu’s situation…

“How about another game? Drinks on the line!”

“Oh, I think I’m kinda hungry. Let’s go out, yeah?”

“Let’s race! All the way to that rock. Or how about a swim?”

What to do. What could Hinata do? This was the dilemma he was in as they got ready to go to a club. Per Atsumu’s request, he wanted to try his hand at dancing. Now, Hinata did indulge in dancing and drinks, but he was a little concerned of how Atsumu was still throwing himself into activities. Still keeping busy. Still avoiding.

“Atsumu, are you sure?” Hinata asked over the loud music at the entrance,  “You don’t know how to dance!”

“It’s just confidence!” Atsumu blinded him with a grin, “I got this!”

Hinata watched from the bar as Atsumu did his best to keep up with the others. They singled out his awkward moves and gave him a hand. People were friendly in this club. It’s the reason Hinata picked it out. He even came across some of his friends, Hinata chatting with them as he made sure he had an eye on where Atsumu was. He trusted the man, but it was easy to get swept up with the music and wander off. The last thing he wanted was Atsumu making a bad decision halfway across the world.

Talking. Singing. Dancing.

Hinata looks over to the dance floor mid-laugh. His smile begins to fade. 

Because Atsumu is dancing. He’s dancing with this dazed look, his eyes scanning the woman in front of him. She had short hair—silver hair with dyed black tips that bounced to the rhythm of the song. A black tank top hugged her torso, her toned arms up and shining with a glittering shimmer from her perfume. Hinata saw her before. She had a surf shop near the beach. She actively participated in those competitions which is probably the reason there were scuffs on her skin.

She had pretty hazel eyes too. They shone underneath the sun.

Hinata remembered he told himself something once.

She reminds me of Atsumu’s Kita.

“Oh no,” Hinata murmured to himself.

He’s about to go and get him, but they disappear within the crowd. Hinata’s friends sweep him away in a game of pong. He tries to go and find him, but there isn’t a single sign of Atsumu. Lost somewhere in the strobing lights and sparkling ceiling.

By the time the party dies down, Atsumu isn’t there.

Hinata calls. Looks. He rides his bike up and down every single street he could think of, but he can’t find Atsumu. He calls again. Again. Again. No answer.

Morning comes.

Hinata’s first instinct is to look around his apartment. Nothing. He looked out his hallway, wondering if Atsumu was there and waiting for him to open the door. Nothing. 

The surf shop. Maybe he was there.

Hinata races down to the beach, looking for the bright blue shed with boogie boards and surf gear laid out in rows. Someone is sitting on the steps, looking towards the rising sun out in the distance. He gets closer, relief flooding into him once he can make out the blond hair. Atsumu has his legs up on the stairs, his arms folded over his knees.

“Hey,” Hinata softly says once he gets close enough.

“Hey,” Atsumu responds quietly.

He sits next to Atsumu. “So… last night, huh?” 

“Some night,” Atsumu opened his eyes.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Atsumu glanced back to the surf shop and then to Hinata. He looks up to the sky.

“She was pretty and kind,” he huffed a laugh, “She smelled like oranges which I thought was cute. Kari. Her name was Kari,” Atsumu looked back at the sun, “I thought we clicked. We danced and laughed for a long while. She asked if I wanted to get away, I said yes. Her roommates were home, so she took me here instead.”

Atsumu smoothed his thumb over the back of his hand. “I kissed her cheek. She kissed mine. Soon we started putting our lips where we could. Neck, chest, shoulders. When she came up to kiss me on my lips… I turned her away.”

Atsumu clenched his jaw, his hair being brushed away by a breeze. “I couldn’t. For the first time in that moment, I looked her in the eye and I saw…”

“Kita,” Hinata murmured quietly.

The ocean sounds loud this morning. Hinata hasn’t noticed in a while.

“I felt guilty,” Atsumu rubbed the back of his neck, “I told her I couldn’t and geez, you wouldn’t believe how understanding she was. I didn’t remember your address, so she let me stay here. There’s a rather comfortable office chair there. I’m just waiting to give her back the shop key.”

Kari was a very hospitable person. It made sense to him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over Kita,” Atsumu admitted, “Isn’t that silly? I ran halfway across the world to get away from that fact, but here we are. I will never get over him.”

“It’s probably because you never said anything about your feelings, Atsumu. You were right there and then it was taken away. It’s like you will never be satisfied, no matter what you do,” Hinata leaned against him for comfort, “But you will find ways to heal and love. I don’t think exerting yourself is that way though. Doesn’t it feel good to get a little bit of that weight off your chest?”

Atsumu takes in a deep breath of air. Some birds chirp above them. The ocean water smells salty and joins the food vendors that are preparing breakfast. The sand is warm where it manages to sneak into their sandals.

“It does.”

──── .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. ────

ONE YEAR AFTER KITA’S WEDDING

Normally, Aran doesn’t step into people’s affairs. He likes to give his friends their space and time to work their lives out. If they ask for his advice, then he will happily oblige to offer his finest set of words. 

Atsumu was a different case.

Kita Shinsuke was a touchy subject for him. Reasonably so. Aran couldn’t imagine the disbelief Atsumu felt that day. Imagine going to confess to your first love and getting a wedding invitation instead. Aran wasn’t sure if he could ever manage that level of heartbreak. 

As months passed, Atsumu slowly began to pick up the pieces of his heart. Aran saw the most change when he came back from Brazil. His friend managed to tone down his coping methods and returned to a routine that didn’t involve an overly expensive rock climbing membership. However, there were things that Atsumu still held back from them.

Today was the day Aran would make him talk. He asked to come over with another person he believed could be one-hundred percent honest with Atsumu and give him the straight facts.

“This isn’t a pair I thought I’d see in the same room, but it oddly works,” Atsumu hummed as he sat on a brown leather couch he just paid off.

Sakusa Kiyoomi sat next to Aran, pulling down his mask to take a sip of the iced tea Atsumu offered. He was Atsumu’s teammate, so they had a connection of sorts. He heard from Osamu that Sakusa was very likely to draw the truth from Atsumu. Osamu had tried several times, but Aran wondered if Atsumu was holding back from his brother to not worry him.

At least the apartment looked better. A few months ago it was just boxes.

“So… what brings you two here?” Atsumu asked slowly.

“Let me give it to you straight, Miya. Aran believes that you are still hiding your feelings about what happened with Kita,” Sakusa leaned back into the couch, “And so do I.”

Oh shit. Looks like he is really straightforward.

“Excuse me?” Atsumu scoffed, “Ya gotta be jokin’.”

“You got up from a slump, but you still feel tense, Atsumu,” Aran jumped in, “Is there something you’re afraid of? Or something that is making you hesitate?”

“From my point of view, Hinata helped a lot. Now I’m wondering why it still feels like you’re in a rut of sorts,” Sakusa added.

Atsumu collected his thoughts. He clasped his hands together, sighing out loud before launching into the following statement:

“You guys are jerks.”

To this, both Aran and Sakusa raised their eyebrows.

“Is it weird to not move on?” Atsumu asked, sitting up on his couch, “Is it really that strange? I mean, you guys wouldn’t know. Omi has the most perfect boyfriend in the world and you have a loving girlfriend! You guys never had to move on from someone. Rut? Afraid? My worst fear has already happened. Right now, I’m just trying not to get my heart broken again. If I move on, then it is guaranteed to happen, so—in a sense—isn’t it better to just stay still?”

Well.

Those were certainly words. More words than Osamu could get out of him.

“Do you think Wakatoshi and I got together on the very first try?”

Sakusa took another sip of his drink. He sighed to himself as he glanced towards the table. “When Wakatoshi first asked me out, I rejected him. I rejected the guy I liked since middle school. Why do you think I would do that?”

“Cause yer—“

“Don’t say dumb,” Sakusa shot Atsumu a look, “It’s because I was scared. I was scared that I would fuck up with him because I’ve never been in a relationship. But anytime I got close with someone, there were always some complaints. Too distant. Too cold.”

Sakusa pulled out a pocket handkerchief from his jacket, wiping away the condensation of the glass from his fingers. He continued, “But I wanted to try. I wanted to try to be with him despite that fear. We didn’t get together for a long time because of that, yet we are finally here. So, I did have to move on from something to get what I wanted.”

Happiness.

“Me and my girlfriend are long distance,” Aran started, “There were times we wanted to give in. We even took a break at some point. When that happened, I thought it was all over. I started to put more space between us than what we already had because I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Aran shook his head slightly. “It only harmed us. We both neglected the other afterwards and that didn’t help at all. One day, we finally decided to talk about it once and for all. Except that instead of calling, I went to Oregon to talk to her in person. Everything felt better once we had everything in the open.”

He looked at his friend, “We both had things we had to move on from. Hard feelings, certain ideas, and our own fears. So, me and Sakusa do understand how hard it can be to change, but we both know how better you could feel if you chip away at it. You made progress with Hinata, so why not keep trying?”

“What did you mean by not trying to break your heart again?” Sakusa asked, “Is there someone else?”

Atsumu stayed silent. He chewed on his lip, looking around as if to see if someone was listening.

“The other day,” he said carefully, “Kita called me.”

“He called you?”

“I didn’t answer,” Atsumu shook a finger, “If I did, I just knew that I would break. I can’t think about seeing him again because it would make me miserable, but at the same time I want to see him because I like seeing Kita happy.”

“Is that why you are hesitating at everything involved with him?” Sakusa questioned, “You’re afraid of losing him in general?”

“He’s a friend,” Atsumu rubbed his eyes, “I don’t care about what people think of me, but I do care about what my friends think of me.”

Aran worded himself delicately. “What do you think you have to do, Atsumu?”

Atsumu squeezed his hands tightly. He glanced between the both of them, letting out a long, slow breath. He understood what he needed to do, but it had to be hard. In the quiet apartment, Atsumu’s breathing seemed to be the loudest thing. Aran could tell that his eyes wanted to water, but Atsumu refused because he scrunched his nose in a way to ward it off. Complicated feelings always follow behind the concept of love. First loves always had them.

“I think… I have to let go of him.”

But in the end, their happiness was a priority.

──── ❤︎ ────

SEVEN YEARS LATER

At thirty-two, life feels like a blur.

Osamu opened several more locations of Onigiri Miya. Suna,  Aran, and Riseki were still playing their hearts away at volleyball. He heard that the school kids are getting worse as the years go by, but at least Gin and Akagi are managing. Oomimi has taken up a small side business in addition to his office work.

Atsumu was thriving too. Many sponsors and companies wanted him for advertisements. If he didn’t have a game, he would go from photoshoots to interviews. He dared to say he was a top model for underwear and hair care. Atsumu enjoyed it. Modeling added another fun aspect to his career.

By habit, Atsumu headed down to the Onigiri Miya in Osaka. He was pretty sure Osamu would be back from the Tokyo branch. 

“Samuuu!” Atsumu called out as he entered the shop, “I’m hungry, can I get what I had last time?”

He looked around, but there wasn’t anyone. Atsumu stepped back to look at the entrance, realizing that there was a sign up. Gone to lunch, be back at 4.

Since when did that ever stop him? Osamu usually fixed himself something at the restaurant and ate in the back. 

Atsumu went back inside, heading for the Onigiri Miya backrooms when he began to hear voices. Atsumu looked around, wondering if there were also other people who wanted a bite but were then baffled to find no food in sight. However, as he kept stepping towards the back, the voices grew clearer.

“I don’t know what to do, Osamu. Everyone tried to get in touch with him, but he doesn’t really say much. He just thanks us and closes the door or hangs up.”

Aran? He thought that he had a flight to catch to visit his girlfriend. Maybe it wasn’t until later.

“Well, there’s one person who hasn’t tried,” he heard Osamu say.

Aran paused. Then he clicked his tongue. “Are you sure? He’s been doing well for himself after all that suffering. This would just throw him back down that rabbit hole of yearning and aching, don’t you think?”

“But it’s Kita. All Atsumu ever wanted was for Kita to be happy. What you are telling me means that he isn’t and hasn’t been for the past year.”

“What do you mean?”

Atsumu had stepped into the storage room, both Aran and Osamu flinching at his sudden appearance. Osamu pushed up the brim of his cap, his cheeks puffing out with a small sigh. Aran scratched the scruff of his beard, pensively picking at it before dropping his hand to the side. They both looked at each other and nodded.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Aran held a hand out, “And please don’t get mad. We didn’t tell you because we thought it would be best.”

“Tell me what? It’s about Kita, right?” Atsumu glanced between them, “What happened to him and his wife?”

“They got a divorce, ‘Tsumu.”

There was static in his ear.

The words “Kita” and “divorce” didn’t go together. They shouldn’t go together. It didn’t make sense. In what world would those two words ever be side by side? 

“It’s been a year since they got separated,” Aran carefully added, “We’ve been trying to let him know we’re here for him, but he turns us down quietly. It’s like he thinks he has to do this on his own.”

A year?

“We’ve all tried. Nothing seems ‘ta work. We thought maybe—‘Tsumu? ‘Tsumu, where are ya going?”

Osamu called out for him, but Atsumu kept on walking. He walked straight out of the restaurant, going down the road and calling for a ride. He asked the driver to drop him off at the Shin-Osaka train station. Atsumu quickly scanned through the ticket website, finding the next bullet train to Hyōgo. Almost two hours to get there. He could always tell his mom that he’d be staying over for the night. There was always spare clothes for him at home.

He bought a ticket without a second thought, thanking the driver once they arrived at the station. He barely made it on time by the skin of his teeth, scanning his ticket and hurrying to his seat.

On the way, he made a mental note of where to stop. Kita’s farm was far from the station. He had to get a cab immediately once he got off. Then he had to stop by the nearest convenience store. Did he even bring his wallet with him?

He had two hours to work out the kinks. He’d figure it out.

Arriving at the station, Atsumu did exactly what he debriefed to himself for the whole train ride. First, he went out of the station, finding the nearest convenience store to buy a couple of things. He filled his basket with lemon and milk tea, spicy instant ramen bowls, jumbo onigiri, melon pan, assorted hard candies, a packet of tissues, facial masks, and a bunch of magazines with stickers and prizes attached. He was pretty sure half of that stuff wasn’t on his list, but he would make it work.

After his purchase, he got a cab. Atsumu rehearsed to himself how he would greet Kita and give his care package. He had a whole another hour and a half to do that. 

By the time he arrived at Kita’s door step, Atsumu actually had no idea what he was doing.

He stood at the foot of the small steps, the bags in one hand while his other hand was raised at the door. What did he think would happen? That Kita would open his door at an unexpected guest and feel compelled to let them in without a second word? No, he couldn’t do that to Kita. If no one was able to get in proper touch, then why did Atsumu think he could? He hadn’t talked to Kita in a long, long time. There were a few short texts here and there, but they didn’t go farther than a simple “happy birthday” or “I hope you’re doing well”. Wouldn’t it be awkward and clumsy? Would he freeze? He would definitely freeze—

The door suddenly opened.

Devastating.

Not in a good way. Exhaustion hung over Kita, but it wasn’t obvious. He still looked neat and tidy, his clothes perfectly pressed and hair done nicely. His moves were calculated and It was in the way his eyes didn’t shine underneath the sky. It was the way that expression pinched by a fraction, the usually unreadable face breaking down by the second. Kita looked at Atsumu up and down, but all Atsumu could do was flash a grin.

“I have snacks,” is what he managed to get out.

Kita stared at the bag blankly. He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

And then he gave his back to Atsumu, pushing open the door further to let him in.

Atsumu stood at the doorstep for a solid minute, looking around the stretching plains to make sure he wasn’t asking someone else. He stepped into the home as if it was a sacred space, quietly removing his shoes and replacing them with the guest slippers he found. He went to the living area, finding Kita sitting in front of the same low table they once sat at. 

Atsumu held up the bag, “Give me a minute, yeah?”

Kita didn’t respond. Atsumu took that as a silent answer.

He took the bag over to the kitchen, reheating the onigiri in the microwave and pulling out a kettle to boil water. He unwrapped the ramen bowls, pouring out the seasoning and the dried veggies before putting in the steaming water. Atsumu searched for little table mats, scurrying over to the low table to place them down. Slowly but surely, Atsumu brought over the contents he had in the bag.

Two perfect bowls of spicy ramen with the disposal chopsticks he snatched from the convenience store. Chicken katsudon onigiri on a plate. Lemon tea for Kita and milk tea for Atsumu. He dumped the wrapped hard candies in an empty bowl that presumably had candy before. He laid out the magazines on the side along with the melon pan. Atsumu left the face masks and tissues in the bag.

Atsumu sat across from Kita. His perfectly (somewhat) thought out speech was tossed out the window.

“Sometimes, you gotta eat a shitty meal and feel it out,” Atsumu unwrapped his chopsticks, “Not that this is shitty because I can fuck up a convenience shop meal any day, but I figured it’s not what you really have often. Eat, Kita. Please?”

Kita looked down at the noodle bowl. He sat up a little, putting his hands palm to palm as he quietly murmured something under his breath.

“Thank you for the meal.”

Atsumu smiled, doing the same before diving in. 

They didn’t talk while they ate. Atsumu slurped down his ramen and Kita took small bites of the onigiri in his hands. Atsumu took the moment to look around the house, noticing a couple of things that were different. Cushions he hadn’t seen before rested on the seats by the tv. There were more frames on the wall, but many of them were empty. Half melted candles were on the tables, and the sweet smell of vanilla barely lingered in the air. There was also a new dish towel near the sink. A soft baby pink. A stark contrast to the earthy tones of the house.

Kita sniffled.

Atsumu glanced up as Kita took a helping of ramen into his mouth. His cheeks puffed up with it, but there were also tears that prickled at the corner of his eyes. It wasn’t because of the spiciness. He knew because Kita had a tolerance for it.

But Atsumu ate, leaving Kita to have his moment of vulnerability.

“Stay,” Kita spoke to him directly for the first time that day. “I know you came directly from Osaka. The guest room is yours.”

Kita padded away to his room, not saying another thing to Atsumu afterwards. 

A small moment. 

That was better than nothing.

₊˚⊹♡

“Keep in touch,” Atsumu smiled at Kita as he went out the door, “Those magazines paired with a face mask actually do wonders. Not that I would know of anything. Also keep the stickers, sometimes they come out with more issues and you can fill out a ticket to get a bigger prize like an umbrella or a plush.”

“Thank you,” Kita hummed softly, “For visiting and for the package. I appreciate it.”

“And?”

He hesitated for a split second. “And I will keep in touch. It’s been a while, Atsumu.”

Atsumu’s smile softened.

“Yeah. It has been a while, Kita.”

—— ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧ ﾟ. ——

Kita Shinsuke
[picture]

(it’s a picture of a small black crossbody bag and a mini Miffy coin wallet)

No wonder why those magazines were so thick.

Miya Atsumu (me)
i didn’t really look at the themes, oops :P

but they’re cute !!

Kita Shinsuke
My granny likes the coin wallet.

She says thank you.

I will keep the bag for myself though.

Miya Atsumu (me)
good to know they’ll be put to good use!

[picture]
(it’s a picture of Atsumu’s MSBY bag with a Peanuts coin wallet attached to it)

i got a snoopy one :]

Kita Shinsuke

That’s lovely, Atsumu.

—— ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧ ﾟ. —-

“Thanks for offering to have us over for dinner with you two.

Aran smiled as he helped his girlfriend, Cassie, clear up the table. After Aran returned from Oregon, he brought her back to Japan to watch the Red Falcons live. She was a rather spunky girl, giddy and bubbly, but she made Aran feel calm in a way. That was good for him.

“It’s the first time in a bit since I’ve dined with you, Shinsuke,” Aran said from the sink.

“Atsumu didn’t give me another choice.”

It was true. Kita was dropping off Osamu’s delivery and when Atsumu heard that Kita didn’t have another stop, he grabbed him by the wrist and (politely) dragged Kita to Aran’s apartment. It was perfect timing. Atsumu didn’t have to hear Osamu’s nagging about not being able to eat for free and Kita mentioned that he was going to grab something to munch on. That and he never met Aran’s girlfriend despite being the first to hear about her. They got along well.

“Shinsuke, you say that like a burden,” Aran clutched his chest dramatically, “I’m hurt!”

Kita chuckled, “You know I wouldn’t mean it like that. It’s nice to see you again, Aran.”

When Aran turned away from the now empty sink, wiping his hands off on a dish towel, Atsumu could see his smile. It wobbled, but a relieved sigh came from his friend’s lips.

“It’s nice to see you too, Shinsuke.”

Atsumu made an excuse to help Cassie sort the utensils (she was also confused) to give the two some room to talk. If anyone, Aran was the closest person to Kita. He was sure that a nice chat would make Kita feel a little better and more comfortable with communication. He and Cassie ended up playing a game of Connect Four at the kitchen counter, but Atsumu smiled at a set of particular words.

“You promise to text?”

“I wouldn’t break it to you.”

“I win!”

(Okay, that made him grimace a little, but the rest made him happy.)

—— ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧ ﾟ. ——

Kita Shinsuke 

Atsumu.

Miya Atsumu (me)

ya?

Kita Shinsuke

Can I ask a favor from you?

Miya Atsumu (me)

always ٩(^‿^)۶!!

Kita Shinsuke

Can I video call you?

Connecting….

“What’s up?”

Kita propped up his phone on something, pulling a box closer to himself. “I took down all these photo frames and I don’t know what to do with them. Aran and Oomimi said they didn’t need any, so I was wondering if you’d like some? Osamu can take a pick at them too.”

Photo frames?

Oh. The empty frames he saw in the house. They probably had photos of him and his ex-wife.

“Hmm… why don’t ya do something with them?”

Kita was filing through them, not looking back at the camera. “I don’t really have many pictures fer them. They would just be collecting dust on my wall.”

“So take pictures or make some artsy collages. They still have a use. Don’t ya think it’s better to replace the past with new stuff?”

Kita’s fingers gripped the side of the box. Subtly. A slight squeeze that barely pressed the cardboard in. He bit the inside of his lower lip, sighing through his nostrils with a slight shake of the head.

“Memories. It’s funny how that always comes back around.”

“Impossible to escape from, but ya have yer own choice to make the best out of ‘em. We kinda do need the memories now that I think about the slogan. It’s what I thought about when perfecting my serves.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Kita glanced at the inside of the box again. “Surely you could take a few though. Even with new photos, there are still too many.”

“Okay, okay,” Atsumu laughed, “All I know is that ya have to get rid of that tacky one with a 3D lighthouse. It does not fit your house at all.”

—— ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧ ﾟ. ——

Kita Shinsuke

Thank you for inviting us over. 

Granny enjoyed seeing you and your family.

Miya Atsumu (me) 

ofc !!

 my ma really liked chatting it up with you two

 ( ˘ω˘ )

Kita Shinsuke

Osamu gets better every day.

Granny’s happy that he’s using one of her recipes.

Miya Atsumu (me)

he should give her credit !! 

yumie’s special (｀_´)ゞ

Kita Shinsuke

She doesn’t mind. 

She’s just happy it’s out there.

Thank you again. 

We should do it sometime again.

Miya Atsumu (me)

we should !!

have a good night, Kita :)

Kita Shinsuke

Good night, Atsumu.

—— ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧ ﾟ. ——

They’ve been doing it for a while now. Texting back and forth, meeting with one another, and even simple calls with small talk. Tonight, Atsumu proposed a drink for the upcoming fall harvest. A nice bottle of champagne and some of the finest slices of cheese, fruits, and salami he could find (Akaashi helped him make a mini board). Kita accepted.

It was around ten. The stars looked beautiful above Kita’s farm. Atsumu went around the back, following the soft lights coming from Kita’s living area. The sliding doors, usually covered by curtains, were pulled back. Kita came out to the engawa with two flutes and two small plates in his hands. A small blanket was set out for the food and drink, Kita smiling softly as he sat himself down on the edge of the wooden surface.

“Hi, Atsumu.”

Atsumu smiled back.

“Hi, Kita.”

Kita complimented the board, immediately reading that Akaashi had helped him. Atsumu popped open the bottle, the cork soaring somewhere within Granny Yumie’s tulips. Atsumu quickly went to retrieve it with the aid of his phone flashlight, hurrying back to pour the glasses and unwrap the food.

They chatted. The normal. He enjoyed any conversation with Kita. He always would.

Kita’s lips rested against the rim of the champagne glass, his fingers tapping the side of the flute gently. He tilted his head back, a pensive hum sitting in his throat after swallowing the last swig.

He sucked in air through his teeth, “Nice choice.”

“Thanks. I got the recommendation from ‘Samu.”

“I know. He gave me the same one.”

He said it softly. The words were barely there, hanging on his lips as if they were a memory themselves. Reminiscent like.

Atsumu’s throat tightened by a fraction. His wedding. How could he have forgotten?

The bottle he brought was the same champagne they served at Kita’s wedding for the toast. He remembered Osamu buying it, but the bottle only came in a case of four, and it was a rather costly case too. Kita insisted that the bottle itself could be the present, but Osamu waved him off and tried to give it to him for free. Instead, Kita only took one bottle and made Osamu keep the rest.

He didn’t dare to breathe. What was he supposed to say?

“Atsumu?”

“Hm?” he almost squeaked.

“Do you want to know why it happened?”

Now, his heart stopped.

Kita had never brought it up directly. Atsumu didn’t want to push him into speaking about it, so the subject was never placed on the table. But now, Kita quietly set the table, plating the conversation carefully because this would be the first time.

This would be the first time someone hears why Kita got a divorce.

Atsumu nodded. Kita stared at his empty glass.

“I thought we were happy,” he said, “We were for the first three years. We moved in together here. She brought more pops of color and new decorations. Her little Kei car was parked outside and she would drive out to work in the city. We built our own routine that was simple, but it worked for us.”

Kita placed down the glass, “We did have special occasions and plans to indulge in, but she always made a point to tell me how she loved our quaint and quiet moments. I still tried to maintain that balance though. Some nights we would stay in with a home meal. Other nights we would go to the city to eat at a restaurant I saw her looking at. She would do the same with me. If she saw something I hesitated to buy, then she would buy it. If she noticed we ran out of my favorite spice, it would be restocked in a heartbeat.”

“But one day, she started to stay in the city more often. Long work trips. More nights at the office. Dates began to be strictly at home. She started to put herself first. Distance, Atsumu. That’s what it was.”

Kita sighed softly, “By the time we hit five years, she brought me out here and sat me down. She told me that I was… predictable. That our life together had gotten to a point it would never peak again. She told me she needed some imbalance. She wanted some fun. What we had together was no longer sufficient. That is when she asked to file for divorce.”

He licked his lips, “Boring, Atsumu. I was deemed too boring to be in a relationship with. My granny always told me to be kind and thoughtful to my future spouse. I suppose she was wrong about one thing. I certainly didn’t expect stability to be a factor for a divorce, but I suppose granny wouldn’t be able to predict it either. My ex-wife took everything that was hers and left. Except for that one photo frame. The lighthouse one.”

“That checks,” Atsumu mutters underneath his breath.

“You know what’s funny, Atsumu?” Kita leaned forward.

“Hm?”

“I felt relieved.”

Kita tilted his head to the side, “I did love her. Yet, a part of me married because I wanted to make sure my granny witnessed my wedding. I was happy because she did. I was happy those first three years too. But around the same time, I began to feel… alone. Yes, because she was beginning to move away, but I didn’t feel like myself, Atsumu.”

“I changed myself for her,” Kita fiddled with the champagne glass, “Unknowingly. I did try to be more adventurous when I began to notice us falling out, but it didn’t suit me. It was forced. Even so, she did not like it for me either. Even with change, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

Another sigh, “Perhaps with the right person, it could be natural. Spontaneity because of true love.”

“Do you believe in that?” True love, Atsumu referred to.

“It’s silly,” Kita laughed softly to himself, “but I always thought there would be “the one”. To be honest, she wasn’t the person I thought it would be. I settled and I know she did too. I was surprised at how quickly she got with someone. Made a point to tell me when she retrieved what she didn’t take the first time. Except for that frame, of course.”

Curiosity got to him, “Who did you think it was? Your “the one” I mean.”

A beat of silence. Kita shook his head, “What does it matter, Atsumu? No one would want a divorced man. No one would want someone who bores them.”

“You don’t bore me, Kita.”

The words suddenly came out. An indirect implication. Kita’s saddening stare seemed to soften, the man pressing his lips together. Atsumu swallowed the lump in his throat, but it came back up.

The words he hadn’t said for years rushed out of his chest.

“I think you’re interesting,” Atsumu turned to face him, “I think you are the most incredible, wonderful, kind, and thoughtful person in the world. Anything with you is an exciting moment. If it’s talking on this engawa or shopping for groceries or watching a stupid movie over microwave dinner, it will all be thrilling and fun. Just being in the same room you are in makes me feel so excited.”

“And I don’t need to be surprised every so often,” Atsumu talked faster, “I would be happy to just come home to the same routine over and over again because you are there. I don’t know what you’ll say or think or do. Would you ask me about work? Would you tell me that we ran out of milk? Would you wonder when I’d touch up my roots? I don’t know, but I would answer any of those questions in a heartbeat because I want to do that with you. I want balance. I want simplicity.”

“And if you want true balance, then I am there for the chaos and the spontaneous decisions. We can compromise and I’ll make sure you are comfortable to get out of your zone because you would give me the chance to settle. You would give me the perfect recipe for a happy life because you would be my rock, Kita. You are someone I can confidently go to with any problem or solution. You would always be there for me, no matter what.”

Atsumu looked right at Kita, “And I would be there too. I won’t run away or wish for anything but the domestic, calm, and peaceful life because after being from city to city and game to game, there is nothing more that I would want than a home. Somewhere I can breathe. Somewhere special.”

“And that’s wherever you are, Kita,” Atsumu whispered softly, “I could never be bored of you.”

Kita stared at him. Atsumu's heart pounded against his chest, his mouth suddenly dry after all he said. The crickets quietly chirped among the blades of grass. Stars above seemed to shine brighter. The warm light coming from Kita’s home made those hazel eyes gloss with glassiness. His eyes watered, Kita inhaling sharply before shaking his head again.

“You aren’t saying that out of pity, right?” Kita’s voice trembled, “That would be cruel, Atsumu.”

“I would always be here for you no matter what. I’ve felt like this since the first day we crossed paths, Kita,” his own voice shook, nervous that he had messed up, “I’ve been wanting to tell you for—“

“Since the first day? Oh… oh, Atsumu!”

Laughter filled his ears. Broken laughter as Kita pressed his palm against his forehead, his lips crumpling into a sad smile. It was strange because Atsumu always wanted to see Kita laugh with his whole chest, but he hated to watch the man go through such a flurry of emotions. What was happening?

Kita pushed his hair back, looking back in Atsumu’s direction.

“You asked who I thought would be my “the one”. Well…”

His gaze softened. His brow upturned, tears still welling at the edge but refusing to fall. 

“Atsumu.”

There was something different in the way he said his name. It wasn’t a call to attention or the start of a sentence. His name was the statement. A gentle statement. Syllables spoken with care and memories. The same way someone would fondly speak of something they adored. 

The same way someone would speak about someone they loved.

Because in Kita Shinsuke’s eyes, he loved Atsumu from the start.

He remembered that one of the club members suggested he went to scout the new members. He didn’t see any harm. Kita went around to take note of who to count on for the first day of practice. 

The Miya twins. He heard about them before.

Kita took quick glances through the hallway windows, searching for them. Eventually, he laid eyes on two identical people. One had grey hair and was sipping away at a box of juice. Osamu The other was blonde and staring out into space. Atsumu. The Miya twins. 

Kita had to admit that his gaze lingered a little longer on Atsumu as he walked away. Of course, once he heard a loud commotion from the room, he backpedaled, glancing back in the room to see the two twins fighting. The home room teacher eventually came to break them apart, Atsumu ready to glare at the door until he saw Kita.

He had never seen brown eyes lighten up so quickly. It was like sunshine dotted it all of the sudden, Atsumu fixing his hair and raising a brow at him. Kita didn’t say anything. He left.

But from the window, he could still see the boy’s embarrassment bloom across his cheeks, Atsumu shrugging up his blazer like nothing happened.

“Cute,” Kita whispered to himself.

An alluring energy came from Miya Atsumu. The way that he carried himself. The manner in which he played. Kita picked up on small things along the way. The subtle lick of his lips before jumping for a toss when given to him. Pushing his hair back after the team won a point. Although, there were some things he could tinker with to soar even higher, but Miya Atsumu was practically made for the court.

There was a gnawing feeling in his heart after that moment. 

The thought of Miya Atsumu took a space in his mind, so much so that Kita made a personal care package for him when he was sick. Though, as his third year came to an end, Kita didn’t make a single move. How could he? 

Supportive.

Atsumu was a good person.

Throughout that time he spent collecting Atsumu’s personality traits, he was with his girlfriend. He never considered his admiration for Atsumu to be anything but platonic. His romantic interest had faded away the moment he finished high school. He thought it did.

But as the years passed and his marriage started to fall apart, his mind drifted back to the idea of Atsumu. An impossible thing that would never happen. 

First loves usually pass by.

Atsumu’s lips parted with a soft gasp. His gaze flickered from the side to Kita, his body surging forward before he managed to stop himself with a firm hand on the wooden boards. Their hands were close, just as close as they were that day in the restaurant. Atsumu couldn’t speak. He made some sort of sound, tilting his head down at Kita to question it. 

Me?

Kita nodded slowly, huffing out a laugh. 

“No,” Atsumu shook his head, his voice small in his throat, “Really?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried!” Atsumu chuckled weakly, still in disbelief, “I wanted to, Kita, but there was never a right time. You had to go to college, your farm was prospering, you fell asleep at the reunion, and I didn’t win gold. After the Olympics were over, I was determined to tell you, but then you invited to your wedding and…”

He choked back on his tongue. Tears streamed down Atsumu’s face, his ears burning from a rush of feelings. He didn’t know whether to be elated, upset, or embarrassed, so he was going through all three. His heart was still threatening to break out of his ribcage, and his hands were shaking so badly—!

But he took another look at Kita’s face. A wash of calm came over him with a shuddering sigh that made the tension in his shoulders go away.

“I love you,” he barely whispered, “I love you so much, Kita. I loved you enough to let you go, but I don’t really think I completely left. I still love—“

The night turned silent.

Atsumu’s eyes were wide. His hands were frozen mid-gesture. 

Because Kita closed the distance between them. His lips were on Atsumu’s lips. They were warm, welcoming and soft. They tasted salty, probably because of the tears, but Atsumu could have melted at the sweetness of the touch. One of Kita’s hands barely grazed his cheek, the other taking his hand to settle it back down on the engawa surface. Kita tipped his head down, his upper lip brushing Atsumu’s bottom lip. Atsumu could feel the soft exhale from his nose, tickling his skin from how close they were.

“I love you too,” Kita tenderly murmured back, “I’ve been waiting and wanting you for a long time, Atsumu. I just didn’t know how badly I wanted it until now,” a tear slipped down his cheek.

Atsumu carefully cupped his face, wiping away the tears with the stroke of his thumb. “I’ve felt the same, Shinsuke,” he whispered with all the care and adoration he could hold.

This time, Atsumu leaned forward. He kissed Kita like he’s always wanted to kiss him. Slow and kind, savoring every bit and inch he could taste because nothing could be better than that. Kita’s arms loosely looped around his neck, the man tilting his head to the side to get a better angle. A little deeper. A little hungrier. Atsumu moved his hands down to his waist, his thumb circling at a patch of skin that was exposed from his shirt lifting up. Atsumu moved away by a fraction to kiss everywhere. His cheeks, his jawline, his neck and the pulse he could feel spiking up—he needed it all.

Kita tugged parted for air, panting softly as he moved his head back for Atsumu to litter kisses on the column of his neck.

“Stay the night,” Kita whispered, “Yeah?”

Atsumu trailed back up, pressing a soft kiss to Kita’s chin to make him look down. He held the world within those hazel eyes and Atsumu would gladly do anything they asked of him. Right now, it was impossible to say no. He would never say it to Kita anyway.

“We’ve got to make up for lost time right?” Atsumu murmured against his skin.

Kita tilted his head down, low enough to capture his lips again. A smile was pressed against the wonderful feeling. Finally, finally he got to say it.

“I’m staying.”

He finally confessed.

──── ❤︎ ────

A year has passed.

“I’ll never get tired of this place. The view is incredible!”

Time for another volleyball club reunion. This time at a different location. 

Kita’s engawa and kitchen was full with their teammates, everyone munching on meat that they were cooking outside. Gin and Akagi were spitting watermelon seeds at each other. Oomimi, Aran, and Osamu were waiting on the veggie skewers to be roasted. Somewhere in the background, Suna was talking with Granny Yumie, showing her photos from high school on his phone. It was a lovely time.

Atsumu and Kita brought out dessert. Pudding cups. Atsumu tried to make a cake, but he over mixed the batter. Nobody would ever complain about pudding though.

“Ready?” Atsumu glanced to Kita as they sat down on the edge of the engawa.

Kita nodded with a smile.

Atsumu took his half empty pudding cup, tapping the side of the plastic with a small pink spoon. “Attention! I have something to say!”

“Don’t you always?” Osamu was quick to quip.

“Shaddup! It’s important.”

“It is,” Kita backed him up, “It won’t take too long. 

Everyone turned to listen when Kita spoke. Atsumu shook his head, “I said the same thing.”

“Nuh-uh. Kita asked us nicely,” Suna chimed in.

“Oh my fu—you know what, never mind,” he waved his hand at them, “I have something important to say. Or rather, we have something important to ask you guys.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve been dating for a year, but we’ve also been pining for much longer than that,” Atsumu held Kita’s hand, “People are making big choices nowadays. We want to make one of our own.”

“For some it might be too soon, but I have never been more certain about anything than this,” Kita leaned against Atsumu, “I believe that this time, I’m with the right person. We’re both ready.”

“No way,” Aran spoke up from the kitchen, “No way! Shinsuke?”

Kita smiled. He’s been doing that a lot more often. Their friends caught on to what they were saying, gathering around Atsumu and Kita with big grins. Osamu practically jumped at Atsumu, shaking him by the shoulders for not telling him sooner. If Atsumu listened closely, he could hear Granny Yumie clapping softly, a happy hum coming from her soft voice as she congratulated them. Kita’s laugh like breath was music to Atsumu’s ears, the next words making his heart soar. A much different reaction from the first time he heard them. 

“I’m getting married next month. Me and Atsumu would love for you all to come to our wedding.“