Chapter Text
Sakusa Kiyoomi had 3 goals in life:
1. To become the number one High School Volleyball Spiker
2. To win Nationals
And of course, the most important one of all:
3. To finally, finally, FINALLY kick Miya Osamu’s ass.
Who was Miya Osamu, you may ask? He was only the single most annoying, insufferable, pig-headed human being on this planet. Both of them originally shared the same position, which led to reduced game time, and then, on top of that, both were constantly battling for the first position in their class. Because of course it wasn’t enough for Osamu to torture him at volleyball. He just had to compete with Sakusa in academics, too. What a bastard.
Now, though, Sakusa was in an unusually good mood. He had just scored a rare full percent over Osamu in their report cards for last year, rather than the usual 0.5 they always teetered on, so he was feeling pretty good about himself. This should’ve been his first warning. The universe never let him feel good about himself for long.
He was proven right (as usual) when he walked over to his locker, only to find it to be completely totally ruined. Destroyed. Desecrated.
When Sakusa first opened the locker, he let out a high-pitched shriek so embarrassing that he would deny being the perpetrator of it at the cost of his life, entirely due to how absolutely horrifying the picture in front of him was. He was extremely germaphobic, and so of course Osamu, ever the genius, thought it would be so fucking funny if he stuffed Sakusa’s spotless, shining, meticulously cleaned locker with disgusting, foul smelling manure.
That’s right. Manure. As in, literal cow dung. Sakusa prayed to whichever god may exist up in the sky, not for himself, but for Osamu’s family when they saw his dead body. Because there was no absolutely no fucking way Osamu was getting away with his life.
With a start, he realised there was a sheet that was thankfully covering his textbooks. But still. How would he ever recover from this.
“Kiyo! Nice decoration,” a voice behind him gleefully exclaimed.
Oh, come on.
“Hey, cuz,” Motoya continued. “Not happy to see me? I’m hurt,” said his dumb fucker of a cousin, very obviously not hurt and instead clearly finding this traumatic situation rather hilarious.
Motoya was not just his cousin but one of his closest friends. Well, one of his only friends. He was also one of the few who understood Sakusa’s fixation with germs best. So naturally, Sakusa expected him to handle the problem with more care and sympathy. His expression seemed to convey as much, because Motoya seemed to get the hint.
“Okay, Kiyo. Deep breaths. You haven’t touched it, right? Just move out of the way and I’ll call Daishou and the others to come help me.”
Forget every bad thing he just said about his cousin. Motoya was a godsend and everybody should worship him.
“Ok. Got it. Deep breaths. I can do that.” Sakusa responded, trying to assure Motoya that he was fine, not wanting to worry him even more.
He was vaguely aware of Komori calling his friends up, probably Oikawa judging by the screeching, as well as Tsukishima who was probably the cause of said screeching. Good. Having his friends there would be a very welcome distraction
He started practising box-breathing, since it was his favourite.
“SAKUSA-CHAN! How are we feeling?” yelled a pretty brunette jumping out from behind him.
“Shut it, Oikawa. Don’t you have to go bug Iwaizumi or something?” Sakusa regretted his words the moment they slipped out, seeing the flash of hurt cross Oikawa’s face.
“No need to talk about that dickhead. The real question is how are we paying back the gang of morons who torched your locker?” came Oikawa’s quick reply, a sneaky expression replacing the earlier flash of hurt.
“Oh, great. Exactly what we need. A revenge plan. God, Oikawa you sound like a teenager in a coming of age American rom-com,” drawled Tsukishima, looking the least bit interested in this conversation. Yet Sakusa could still make out the slight anger shown on his face when he looked in the direction of Sakusa’s locker.
He really didn’t deserve his friends.
Daishou then arrived at the scene, apparently having a sixth sense for when Sakusa actually started feeling grateful for his friends so that he could show up and ruin it with his personality.
“Guys stop bugging the victim. Poor little Sakusa needs a blanket and a nice cup of tea.” Daishou dragged out, his sarcastic tone quite obvious. And yet, he still had the brand of wet tissues he knows are Sakusa’s favourite. Ha. His friends really weren’t the best at concealing their affection.
“Fuck you, Daishou.”
“Fuck me yourself, you little coward,” was Daishou’s response.
It was at that precise moment that Kuroo decided to enter. “Is there something you want to share with the class, Sakusa? Settling for Daishou, really?”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can figure it out, Daishou. You’re a smart little cookie.”
A new voice came from behind, pleading, “Can you all just shut the fuck up?”
“Chibi-chan, what is that language!” Oikawa gasped, ever the drama queen.
“Sorry, but I have this partner for my project and he’s so annoying. Like, seriously, what is this guy’s problem?”
“Hi, Shoyo,” Kenma said.
Of course Kenma only spoke to Hinata when he showed up. Not like Hinata noticed, he was too busy looking upset over some project partner.
“Speaking of annoying. Tsukishima, any update on the whole Yama-situation?” Kuroo asked.
“Don’t.” Tsukishima’s expression seemed to darken.
“Yep. Got it.” Oikawa responded. Then his tone turned serious. “Actually though, if you ever need to talk, we’re all here for you.”
“Yeah. I know” Tsukishima replied. Sakusa is pretty sure that he doesn’t actually know, but he’s not getting into that right now.
Soon, they said their goodbyes, with Daishou almost bumping into the wall, too busy texting on his phone. Who was he even texting? He didn’t have any other friends. Oh well, it’s probably his mom or something, that loser. Who cares?
Sakusa had bigger worries, but apparently they were all for naught when Motoya should up looking very smug.
“Did you fix my locker?” Sakusa asked eagerly.
Motoya responded in the same tone, “Yup! All done, So you can put your books inside. Or you could use mine until we can properly deep-clean it during lunch or something.”
“Yes, please, absolutely.”
Motoya chuckled “Ok but let’s hurry, we have homeroom with that old fart, Mrs Hikari.”
Yeah, Sakusa was not looking forward to that, but oh well. C’est la vie. That is life.
***
It was now lunch and Sakusa was making his way over to the table, and they were all talking about some guy Daishou had met that day.
“No, and he was so fucking hot. He had a tongue piercing, Kawa. A tongue piercing. Holy shit,” Daishou sighed dreamily, like a twelve year old girl with a puppy crush.
Oikawa responded “Who was he? What’s his name?”
“Terushima Yuuji,” Daishou replied.
“What? Oh, hell no.”
Daishou asked in a confused tone, “Why, Tsukki? What’s wrong with Terushima?”
“That asshole is a part of Miya’s group,” filled in Kuroo.
“And don’t call me Tsukki, you asshole.”
“No, really? Dang it. He was so fucking charming too.” Daishou said, ignoring Tsukishima entirely.
“It’s fine, you’re new, you couldn’t have known” comforted Oikawa
“I really like him though. He seemed so… sweet?”
Oikawa doubled down, “Trust me darling, he’s not. He’s the walking definition of a dumb jock. You’re perfectly fine without him”
Daishou looked oddly disappointed, almost hurt maybe. But it was for his own good. Nobody who’s affiliated with Miya could be a viable option as a romantic partner.
Motoya said smugly, “Anyways, I have something more important.”
Everybody inquired as to what exactly Motoya was talking about.
“Well, spit it out.” Sakusa demanded, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have all day here.”
“Okay, so you all obviously know Osamu”
They all shared a collective look of disdain at the mention of Osamu. Sakusa made a gagging face.
Motoya continued, “So, anyways, I heard from a little birdie that his twin brother is apparently joining us at school. He’s coming tomorrow and apparently Osamu is like, crazy protective of him”
“Huh… interesting,” Sakusa stated, the cogs in his mind already moving.
Motoya clocked his mental process and said hurriedly, “Wait, Kiyo, why is this interesting? What exactly are you planning?”
“Well.. I was just wondering, if Osamu’s so overprotective over this twin of his, what would his face look like if I got that brother in my bed?”
“No, Sakusa-chan, that sounds incredibly evil and we’re not going to do that to the poor boy. We don’t even know this dude,” Oikawa reprimanded, in a motherly tone.
“Well, it doesn’t seem like the worst idea,” the rooster added amiably in Sakusa’s defense.
“Kuroo-san, you can’t seriously be considering this shit,” retorted Hinata in shock.
Tsukishima drawled, “But it could finally shut up that awful group of his, right?”
“I- Well, I don’t know. It seems dirty.” Daishou argued feebly.
“C’mon, it’s not that bad. It’ll be funny,” Sakusa argued.
“Let’s take a vote, shall we? Whatever the decision is, no arguments,” Motoya suggested, ever the mediator.
“Wait, shouldn’t Tendou-san be a part of this vote too?” Hinata interrupted.
Daishou nodded in agreement, but Sakusa just shrugged. “It isn’t very necessary, though. He has never had much contact with Miya’s group, I doubt he even knows what they look like. Besides, Kenma’s not participating either.”
"I guess so…” Hinata said uncertainly.
“Then let’s get on with the vote!” Motoya asserted.
Everybody agreed.
“Ok, all in favour, raise your hands.”
Motoya raised his hand uncertainly, but loyal to his cousin. Kuroo and Tsukishima’s hands went up next. And of course, Sakusa. Daishou, Oikawa and Hinata didn’t but it didn’t matter. Majority went in Sakusa’s favour.
“Fine, Sakusa-chan. Guess we’re going ahead with this. I am warning you, though, whatever happens, it won’t end well,” Oikawa said darkly, while Hinata and Daishou nodded morosely.
Then, perfectly on cue with Oikawa’s dramatics, the lunch bell rang and off they were to the next class.
Tomorrow Sakusa would be meeting Osamu’s twin.
Uncharacteristically, he looked forward to their meeting.