Archive of Our Own

I can never recall the dream I had

But the sensation that I’ve lost something lingers for a long time after I wake up.

I’m always looking for something, for someone.

My grandma used to tell me stories about destiny and love; how people met their soulmates in the most unimaginable places and how we were all tied up to someone by a red thread. 

How each and every one of us had someone special as if our story was already written. 

I believed every single word she said, she was grandma after all. 

But then someone came and destroyed every single piece of belief I had on the love subject. He ruined me, he played with my heart and threw it out of a window only to come back any time he felt lonely and I, stupidly enough, agreed to every single time he came over, falling for him over and over again. 

I liked the feeling of his hands on me, the way his eyes made contact with mine, and the way he smiled at me. That was all over by the next morning, in case he was actually there when I woke up. He would text me saying that that was something he didn’t expect to happen, so we shouldn’t do it again. 

But we did. 

Until one day, we didn’t. 

He stopped looking for me and left. And I, after crying my soul out, forgot about him. Or at least most of him. 

I still think about him when I’m alone and my mind gets the best of me but I think I’ve stopped crying now. 

Love, destiny, and all those tales my grandma used to say are untrue to me now unless someone proves me otherwise. 

Friday, December 10th, 2021. 

Kiyoomi is already awake when his alarm goes off at seven. 

He’s been tossing and turning around since three, we can confirm he did not get enough sleep last night. And we can’t blame him: having the same dream repeatedly can be exhausting. Except this time it felt too real. 

Kiyoomi has been dreaming about a boy, a boy who has grown with him in the dreams. He grows according to Kiyoomi’s age so by now… Kiyoomi and the mystery guy are 20. 

It all starts in a park. He’s sitting down on one of the swings, slowly moving his legs so the swing moves too and then, it happens. 

This boy comes running to him and waves, smiling. He’s been building his face over the years: Kiyoomi knows he has brown hair, and a cute smile, and just tonight, he discovered he has honey eyes.

He greets him and they talk for a bit, or he talks. Kiyoomi doesn’t have that ability in his dreams apparently.

If it’s such a nice dream, why does Kiyoomi wake up covered in sweat and his heart about to burst out from his chest?

He shakes his head and presses the button on his alarm clock, shutting it off and walks towards the bathroom to shower. 

He changes into a white shirt with a sweater on top and black slacks. He grabs his bag and leaves his apartment, making his way to university. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a second-year Psychology student. He likes birds and coffee (even though it gives him tachycardia). He likes more things but that’s his go-to answer when he has to introduce himself to a whole class or someone in particular. 

He walks calmly, waving at some people who wave at him. He makes a turn to the right and finds his favorite coffee shop: the coffee tastes great and the food is awesome. The only thing that bothers Kiyoomi the most is the theme. 

Love. 

There’s red threads, kanjis, and definitions on the walls. There’s a wall where couples paste polaroids they take at the cafe, there’s a little chalkboard where people sign their first date. It bothers Kiyoomi. 

He’s not being salty about it, he’s been feeling lonely lately. He has a few close friends and all but it’s not the same as being intimate with someone, (in a non-sexual way). 

He opens the door and finds it almost empty, just the way it always is. He walks to the counter and Iizuna is already waiting for him with a smile. 

“Hazelnut caramel latte, right?” Kiyoomi nods and taps his card, completing the payment. “You okay? You weren’t here yesterday,” Iizuna says, turning away from him and starting his drink. 

“Uni sucks and I have to finish some essays,” he answers shortly and Iizuna hums in response. 

“How’s your mom?” He asks and Kiyoomi stills. 

“She’s better now,” he answers, taking a cookie from the jar. 

“I’m so glad she is,” he says and turns to him, steamy drink in hand. “Here you go,” it’s already in a to-go cup so he decides to actually take it and go to his class early. 

It’s colder today, he thinks. He enjoys the cold but not like this; not when his nose is frozen and his lips tremble under the mask and his hands shake when he tries to sip on his coffee. 

He enters the Psychology hall and walks over to his classroom, finding there are already students sitting down. 

“Kiyo!” Someone calls for him and finds Oikawa and Akaashi waving at him. 

He walks over to them and sits down next to Oikawa, taking off his mask and hanging his coat on the back of his chair. “Morning,” Akaashi says, fixing his glasses. 

“Kiyo-chan, answer this,” and Kiyoomi knows Oikawa Tooru is about to ask him yet the most stupid or the most sexual question ever. “Would you fuck this guy?” Yep, second one it is. 

The guy Oikawa’s matched with on Tinder is… something else. “I would,” Kiyoomi teases and Oikawa gasps, putting a hand on his chest. 

“You can’t fuck Iwa-chan, I matched with him,” Akaashi snorts and Oikawa turns to him. “What are you laughing at, perfect boyfriend?” 

“Are you jealous of me not having to match with guys on Tinder or what?” Akaashi smiles, slurping on his weird-looking juice. 

“Kuroo is just blind,” 

“You’re blind,” Akaashi bites back and Kiyoomi laughs. 

The morning goes as smoothly as it possibly can and when they’re done with classes, Kiyoomi offers to buy them lunch. 

“I’m meeting Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouts and apologizes. 

“And I have to pick up Kuroo from the airport, sorry Kiyo,” Kiyoomi shrugs, saying it’s okay and waves them off. 

He walks back to his apartment but stops midway, remembering the coffee shop and changing his way over there. 

He should’ve gone home. 

It is never this busy, why is it so busy right now? There’s not one table available and there are no people intending to leave the shop. 

He will order it to go, yeah. He wanted to sit and work on his assignments but he will have to readjust himself to the situation he has going on. He walks to the counter and finds Ushijima attending the bar now. 

“Kiyoomi,” he slightly smiles when he sees him coming into sight. 

“Hey, Ushi,” Kiyoomi tries to smile but he’s busier trying to get his card out of his pocket. 

“Hazelnut, right?” Kiyoomi shakes his head. “Changing your order now?” 

“Iced americano, it doesn’t matter if I die from how cold it is outside,” Ushijima laughs, nodding and gesturing to Kiyoomi to tap his card. “I’m assuming it’s a to-go cup?” Kiyoomi nods. “You can look around, maybe there’s a seat available or something.” 

Kiyoomi sighs, turning away from him and looking around for a bit. His eyes dart around the coffee shop and he finds an empty chair right in front of a blonde guy.

He’s focused on whatever he has going on on his laptop but somehow feels Kiyoomi’s eyes on him, looking to the sides first and then to the front, finding Kiyoomi’s eyes and smiling. 

Oh, wow. 

He is pretty, Kiyoomi thinks. 

The shape of his face is pretty along with his nose and his lips. His smile is pretty too, and his eyes look soft, like it’d be okay to melt inside them and just rest in there for life. He looks warm. 

He’s wearing a gray oversized sweater with some black loose pants. He has many accessories on his hands and neck plus a piercing on his right lobe. 

When Kiyoomi comes out of the trance, blonde guy is still looking at him, completely amused. He pushes his chair back and stands up. Is he coming his way? No, no please no. 

There’s no way for us to find each other

But there’s a thing that I’m sure of: when we look at each other we will know. 

We’ll recognize each other. 

“Hey,” he hides his hands inside his pockets and looks everywhere but into Kiyoomi’s eyes. “Are you looking for a place to sit?” 

No. “Yes,” Kiyoomi nods and clears his throat. “I have an extra chair if you wanna…” he stops and laughs to himself. “I’m not a creep or anything, just wanted to share my seat, if that’s okay with you.” Kiyoomi nods to himself. “I’m Atsumu, by the way,”

“Atsumu…?” He waits for a last name and Atsumu complies. 

“Miya,” he smiles again. “You are?” 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he clears his throat again and he hears his name being called from the bar. “One second,” he turns from him, walking to the counter to get his coffee. 

“Did you find a seat, Kiyoomi?” Ushijima asks and Kiyoomi shrugs. 

“I think? That guy offered me to sit with him,” he points at Atsumu. “Do you know him?” 

“When he ordered he said that it was his first time coming here so…” 

“Oh,” Kiyoomi looks back and the guy still smiles at him. He smiles back, politely. 

He should decline his offer, he doesn’t know the guy. He’s a complete stranger: he might want to know a little too much about him or pour something into his drink, maybe he’s a stalker and they’re meeting for the first time, just like in a movie. 

Atsumu’s eyes soften when Kiyoomi finds him by accident and Kiyoomi melts at the sight. 

“Is the offer still up?” Kiyoomi asks, feeling more and more drawn to him. 

“Be my guest,” Atsumu smiles and follows Kiyoomi to his table. 

He doesn’t pull the chair for him, which is fine. They’re not on a date so that’s just great. 

Why is he thinking about dates with a stranger? He needs to stop, he’s not this desperate. 

“So,” Atsumu starts. “I didn’t make ya uncomfy by offering the spare seat, did I?” He sips on his cup, steam fogging his reading glasses and it makes Kiyoomi giggle.

“No, you just surprised me.” Kiyoomi waves him off, sipping coffee from the straw. 

“Aren’t ya freezin’?” He looks at the window and then back at Kiyoomi’s iced drink. “It’s December,” 

“I’m not too affected by the cold,” he lies. Oh, we’re lying now?

Kiyoomi is the worst person to handle the cold; he would need at least three layers of sweaters to be alright. He doesn’t drink iced coffee in the winter but he felt drawn to it for some reason he can’t explain. 

He’s skinny and lanky, his body suffers way too much from cold. His nose gets pink as well as his ears; his hands shake along with his legs and jaw, clacking teeth barely making any noise but it’s there. Nails turn purple from the cold and he’s scared he will lose a finger given the freezing temperatures. 

“Ah, me neither.” Atsumu beams. 

It’s obvious how he’s not affected by it: his whole persona screams warmth. 

His eyes, the light tan he wears from what’s left from the summer break, Kiyoomi thinks.  His freckles, the way he grabs the cup or how he fixes his glasses after they’re filled with steam. 

“Sorry, I can’t…” Atsumu gestures to his own glasses and takes them off, running a cloth over them to get rid of the steam.

He looks up to Kiyoomi, squinting and trying to smile. He blinks a few times and manages to get his glasses as clean as one can before putting them back on. 

“Sorry, my eyesight’s shit,” he chuckles and taps his phone to see any notifications. “So, Kiyoomi,”

“Yeah?” He sips on his coffee again, looking up at Atsumu. 

“What’s yer major?” 

“Ah,” he swallows, Adam’s apple moving. “Psychology,” he gives him a small smile and Atsumu imitates. “Yours?” 

“Art,” dimples show and Kiyoomi feels his cheeks warm. “Like… classic? Drawing and stuff,” he chuckles. “It’s easier to understand it like that,” 

Kiyoomi nods, avoiding his gaze. “That’s so nice,” he mutters. “Do you draw traditionally or like, digitally?” 

Atsumu’s eyes go big for a second, barely noticeable but Kiyoomi sees it. “Um… well, both but I’m better at doing traditional art.” Atsumu nods. “Do ya wanna see?” 

Kiyoomi nods, getting closer to Atsumu’s side of the table. “If you want me to see,” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool.” Atsumu beams. 

He grabs his iPad and rummages through his bag until he gets what looks like a sketchbook, cover filled with stickers of anime series and movies, plus some weird phrases that make him mentally snort. 

“Here,” Atsumu hands him the sketchbook, and Kiyoomi feels like an intruder. They just met and this guy just handed him his art. What he probably does in his free time or has him ripping his hair out on stressful nights. 

Kiyoomi swallows and opens it with shaky fingers. He finds the first page covered in doodles and sentences that make Atsumu scramble over to the sketchbook to change the page. “Sorry, my friends are dicks,” 

“I saw the dicks,” Kiyoomi smirks and Aatsumu lets out a snort. 

On the second page though, there is a castle. A very detailed, Japanese castle.

Kiyoomi wants to ask where this is but he feels he should know the answer. He looks around the page and finds a little note at the end of said page: Himeji Castle, Hyogo. 

It’s all pencil as if Atsumu wouldn’t want to make a mistake by going over it with a fine tip marker. Kiyoomi looks up a little and finds Atsumu already drawing on his iPad, not paying attention to what Kiyoomi’s doing. 

His glasses fall over the bridge of his nose. The frame of his glasses is thin and golden. His piercing is a little sun pendant; he has his sweater sleeves rolled up until his elbow. 

Atsumu must feel the eyes on him because he looks up from his stuff to find Kiyoomi. “Are you okay?” 

Kiyoomi looks away immediately, ears turning red. “Yeah,” he clears his throat and speaks again. “This is really pretty,” 

“Thanks!” Atsumu smiles again. He smiles a lot, Kiyoomi thinks. “It’s an old castle in my hometown, so I asked my brother to send a picture of it for me to draw.” Kiyoomi nods. 

“Do you have any more siblings?” Are we interested now? 

“Nope, just ‘Samu,” he smiles. “Osamu, this is him.” He scrolls through his phone and finds a picture of the two of them. 

He turns the phone and Kiyoomi’s eyes grow big, trying to remember if he knows them from somewhere. “You’re…” 

“Twins,” he nods. “I know, two handsome guys? Unbelievable.” Atsumu’s tongue sticks out for a bit and Kiyoomi laughs. “I’m prettier, though.” 

Kiyoomi nods, just following the conversation. “I feel like I… know you from somewhere,” he clicks his tongue. “Like, both of you.” 

“Can’t help you there, Kiyoomi,” he scratches the back of his head and takes the sketchbook from his hands. “It’s a new one so… there’s only that drawing to see, I’ve been having an artist block.” Kiyoomi raises a brow and leans over the table. He’s interested. “I’ve… okay, it’s weird but I promise it is true,” Atsumu puts a finger up and Kiyoomi chuckles, nodding. “ Ever since I started uni I’ve been having these weird dreams.” 

Kiyoomi stops sipping from his straw and gulps, eyes falling down to his hands. He’s been having weird dreams too and, if he’s honest, he can’t remember anything about them right now. 

“...it’s funny because I can remember when I wake up but then, throughout the day I can’t remember anything. I’ve tried drawing what I dream of but there’s always something happening when I wake up on those days: my building having a fire in the common area, my window being open and a bird flying in, forgetting to turn off the heater.” He explains with his hands and Kiyoomi laughs. “And when I dream of that, whatever it is, I can’t draw. Except this time is worst, it’s been going for around two weeks?” 

Kiyoomi hums, not knowing what to say. “I have weird dreams too,” Atsumu is taken aback by the chosen sentence but smiles anyway. “I’m not… trying to make you sound like you’re the only one with weird dreams! I just… thought of it and well, it’s a coincidence?” 

“Yeah,” Atsumu nods. “Weird coincidence.” 

Kiyoomi looks at his phone: 3:00 p.m. He blocks it and speaks again. “Are you gonna be here for a while?” He would normally leave but he’s found Atsumu’s presence enjoyable and most importantly, comfortable. 

“Yeah, I have to finish this thing,” he points at his iPad, and Kiyoomi nods. “Are you taking off?” 

“Oh, um… I wasn’t planning on taking off but if you want some time for yourself…”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Atsumu gestures with his hand. 

“I have to finish an essay and a presentation,” Kiyoomi says. 

“Please, go ahead.” Atsumu nods. “I’ll be as quiet as I possibly can.” 

Kiyoomi nods, taking his laptop out of his bag and turning it on; he also takes out his earbuds and looks at Atsumu, he doesn’t want to be rude. “If you need me just… tap on my hand?” Kiyoomi offers and Atsumu laughs, nodding. 

He also takes out his notes from his classes and opens the essay tab, both on his laptop and iPad. 

Atsumu stares at Kiyoomi while he puts on his earbuds, not being aware of Atsumu looking at him. He looks at his hands first: boney, long fingers and really pale skin. There’s a little mole on the curve of his hand, in between his index and thumb. His nails are purple and Atsumu smiles to himself when he finds the lie that Kiyoomi told him earlier. His clothes look warm and feels the urge to hug him… he can’t hug a stranger. God, please don’t hug a stranger. 

He has a little pout on his face while he types on his computer, eyes flicking between his iPad and the screen. His eyes are really dark, Atsumu thinks. But they got a hint of some other color that he can’t quite get. There are two moles above his eyebrow, which he had obviously noticed before. His hair is wavy, curls forming by the ends of his hair. 

He feels his palms warm, wet. 

That’s not good. 

Atsumu doesn’t need Kiyoomi but the temptation of touching is there. They just met and Atsumu should be minding his own business but he’s been doodling on his assignment for almost 40 minutes and he just needs to touch Kiyoomi’s hand. 

“Atsumu?” He calls out and it startles him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay?” Kiyoomi chuckles. “You look like you wanna kill that cookie,” 

“Huh?” Atsumu looks at the chocolate chip cookie in the middle of the table, it’s not his. “I’m fine, yeah.” 

“You can have it if you want,” Kiyoomi pushes the plate, and Atsumu blushes. 

“No, no way!” He pushes the plate back and Kiyoomi pushes it back to him. 

They start a dumb little fight until Kiyoomi grabs the plate and cracks the cookie in half, giving it to Atsumu. He really didn’t want the cookie. 

Time flies when you’re keeping yourself busy. For them though, it went so fast they both get surprised when Atsumu checks his phone and finds the 6:35 p.m. mark on the clock. Time flies when you keep yourself busy, whether it's studying or staring at a guy you just met at the coffee shop, who offered for you to sit down with him for said coffee and laughs when he catches you staring.

 Or looking down at the guy you asked to sit with you because his hands are veiny and they’re pretty when he types on the computer. 

Kiyoomi clears his throat first, making Atsumu look up from his hands. “So,” he shuts his laptop and starts putting his stuff away. “This was nice,” 

Atsumu nods. “Didn’t even notice when it got late,” he presses his lips together in a forced smile. 

“Me neither,” Kiyoomi nods. “I should—,”

“Can I get your number?” It’s like it wasn’t supposed to come out, or not yet, at least. “I’m so, so, sorry. I spoke over you, how rude. I’m sorry.” Atsumu’s cheeks are pink and so is his nose. 

Cute, Kiyoomi thinks. 

No, don’t think. 

“Sure, give me your phone.” He extends a hand and Atsumu scrambles to get his phone. 

Kiyoomi types in his number and Atsumu presses the call button so his number saves over Kiyoomi’s phone. “Thanks,” Atsumu mutters. “Maybe we could meet here some other time? I actually got to do stuff with you,” Atsumu says. “You being here, I mean.” 

Kiyoomi chuckles and nods. “I understand.” He gets up and hags his bag over his shoulder. “And I’m down, text me whenever. I’m usually free except for test week.” Atsumu nods, tongue sticking out a bit. 

“I will.” 

Kiyoomi chuckles, mask hanging from one of his ears before looping around the other. “Bye, Atsumu. It was nice meeting you.” His eyes curl up and Atsumu feels his cheeks warm and his chest bubble up. 

“Wait, Kiyoomi!” He says it a bit too loud. 

“Yeah?” 

“Um…” Atsumu fidgets. “What color are your eyes?” Kiyoomi’s eyes go wide, that’s not what he was expecting. 

“Dark green,” he says and meets Atsumu’s gaze, finding a little sparkle in them. 

Atsumu nods. “It was nice meeting you too, Kiyoomi.” 

They meet up again. 

And then again, and again, and again until it becomes a routine. A part of them. 

Kiyoomi grows on Atsumu quickly and certain things of Atsumu rub onto Kiyoomi: getting pens inside his mouth, chewing gum, talking while working on essays. 

Also, Kiyoomi got to know more about Atsumu: his brother is a chef and has his own restaurant, they grew up with his mother, he doesn’t have a favorite color and his birthday is on October 5th. Oh, he also has a little scar on his cheek that when he smiles it makes it look like he has a dimple, don’t let it fool you. 

Atsumu got to know things about Kiyoomi too: he has two older brothers, he has never broken a bone, he played volleyball in high school and he actually met him once at nationals. He has pairs of moles throughout his arms and he makes them happy faces so by the end of their meetups Kiyoomi is filled with smiley faces on his arm. 

Dreams have actually stopped for Kiyoomi. There’s no mystery man anymore or anyone calling out for him. There’s no one to greet in the world he can’t be. And it’s nostalgic; he gets a feeling of emptiness but funny enough, it gets filled with Atsumu’s presence. Weird.

Atsumu used to have dreams too and what happened with him was that he got blocked when it came to making art. But that hasn’t happened for a while. 

Atsumu laughs about it, calling Kiyoomi his lucky charm. 

Two months later.

This time is no different than usual. Kiyoomi gets to the café first, setting his stuff on the table and going for his headphones when his phone dings. 

“Heyy, feeling kinda sick so idk if it’s the best for me to go :(“

“Sorry” 

Atsumu. Sick. Atsumu’s sick. 

He throws his stuff back into his bag and dials Atsumu’s number. 

“Hello?” His throat is sore from how his voice sounds. 

“Hey,” Kiyoomi just realized what he’s doing. “Um… are you okay?” 

“I’m alright, Kiyoomi!” He can hear the smile in his voice. “Are ya worried about me?” 

“No,” he answers, hiding the blush under his mask. “I’m coming over,” 

“What?” Atsumu chokes on his water. “My place’s all dirty! What do you mean you’re coming over?!” His accent pops out and Kiyoomi bites his lip, trying to hide the smile. 

“Did you eat?” He ignores Atsumu completely and waits. 

“I did,” Asumu lies and Kiyoomi hums. “Do you even know where my place is?” 

“No, text me your address,” he says, starting to walk over to the counter. “I’m bringing more food and hot drinks, what do you want?” 

Atsumu chuckles on the other side of the line. “Kiyoomi, no.” He says.

“Shut up and tell me what you want!” Kiyoomi bites back and Atsumu sighs. 

The other side of the line is silent and before Kiyoomi asks again, Atsumu is answering. “Hot chocolate,” he whispers. He’s embarrassed, Kiyoomi thinks. “Can you ask if they can put marshmallows in it?” Kiyoomi chuckles. 

“Yes, child.” Kiyoomi nods, even though Atsumu can’t see him. “Hanging up now,” Atsumu hums and Kiyoomi ends the call. 

He orders their drinks and gets two cookies for free, courtesy of Iizuna. Who by the way is giving him the weirdest look. He has been doing that for a while, ever since he entered the coffee shop with Atsumu and they sat together, had some coffee, laughed, and talked for hours. 

Weird ex-captain behavior

Kiyoomi ends up arriving at a building off campus. Not too far but not close either. He goes up the stairs, holding onto the drinks as if his life depends on them. He finds apartment 10 and clicks the doorbell, waiting for Atsumu to open the door. 

Kiyoomi tries to fix his mask or his hair, or anything but with two drinks it’s barely possible. Why does he want to look good though? It’s just Atsumu. 

Pretty Golden Eyes Atsumu, Shiny Smile Atsumu, Big Hands Atsumu. Kiyoomi shakes his head at the thoughts, hearing the door handle being turned. 

Atsumu’s shiny eyes are not there. I mean, he is there but he looks fucking drained. His eyes look tired and half of his face is covered with a baby pink face mask. “Hey,” his eyes curl up just enough to show he’s smiling. 

God, can he hug him? “Hi,” Kiyoomi whispers and Atsumu moves to the side to let him in. “Thanks,” he steps inside and gets hit with Atsumu’s smell. 

It’s overwhelming and so nice and warm and just… so Atsumu. 

“Need help?” Atsumu clears his throat and offers to take the cups from Kiyoomi’s hands so he can take off his shoes. 

“Thank you,” he repeats. “They put extra marshmallows in your drink and I… bought a small bag for you in case you wanted more?” 

Atsumu looks surprised by the statement. As if he wasn’t expecting Kiyoomi to be that kind of guy. 

“Aw, thank you!” Atsumu grabs his cup and his free arm circles Kiyoomi’s waist, bringing him in for a hug. 

Kiyoomi freezes and his fingers brush against Atsumu’s zip-up hoodie. “Y-you’re welcome,” he manages to get out. 

“I know we haven’t talked about this kind of stuff, sorry.” Atsumu brings his arm back to his own body and sips on his chocolate. 

Kiyoomi stands there, skin burning with the feeling of loss. God, Atsumu is so warm or he has a fever. He should check on that. 

“Did you take any medicine?” He changes the subject without noticing and Atsumu lets out a sigh while smiling. 

“I did,” he nods. “Do you want to go to my room?” Atsumu lowers his voice at the last part, blush creeping up his neck. 

And finally, finally, Kiyoomi realizes he’s inside Atsumu’s apartment. He looks around for a few seconds and smiles internally: Atsumu cleaned up before he got there. There are blankets balled up by the sofa and instant ramen packages in the kitchen. 

“Kiyoomi?” He whispers and he looks at him. Atsumu’s big eyes are already staring. “I wanna lay down,” he coughs, and Kiyoomi panics. 

“God, yeah, yeah.” Kiyoomi nods, following Atsumu into his room. 

The apartment is too quiet. Kiyoomi can hear his own thoughts, his own breathing, and his own quickened heart. Atsumu opens the door a bit, peeking inside first and making sure there’s nothing laying around before winging the whole door open and letting Kiyoomi in. 

Kiyooomi steps in. One, two steps and stops to look around: the bed is messy with blankets curled around, plushies and stuffed animals. A laundry basket filled to the very top and his desk neatly organized. He has a bunch of pictures pasted on his wall plus some others in frames. 

There’s his twin and who may be his mother. Atsumu holds his mother from the waist, feet not touching the ground. There’s a picture of a guy with really bright, green eyes. And right beside his bed are more pictures and drawings that Kiyoomi thinks Atsumu made. 

When he looks back at Atsumu he’s slumped over his bed, hood over his head and laying on his stomach. “Nnngh,” he whines out and Kiyoomi smiles. 

“What?” 

“Hurts,” AAtsumu points to his head. 

“Sit up, I got you soup.” He says and Atsumu obeys like the well-behaved boy he is. Kiyoomi takes the lid off, steam coming out of the container. “It’s really hot, be careful,” he’s about to give the soup to Atsumu but stops. “You know what, uh, wait.” He takes out the plastic spoon and stirs the soup around, taking a bit and blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. 

Atsumu’s eyes go wide and he looks away. He wants to say something but he won’t… or can’t, whatever works best. 

“It’s okay for you to eat,” Kiyoomi says, taking a bit more of the soup and giving it to Atsumu, hand carefully placed below the spoon so he doesn’t make a mess. “Ah,” he gives a single instruction and Atsumu follows. 

He opens his mouth just enough and gets the soup, immediately opening his mouth and complaining about how hot it is. “Hot, hot, shit,” he calms down after a few seconds, and Kiyoomi laughs. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes and Atsumu waves him off. 

“See,” oh, he’s gonna say it. He takes the spoon out of his mouth. “We had an indirect kiss,” he can’t stay quiet for once, can he?

Kiyoomi stays still, blinks twice and Atsumu snorts at the way his eyes are drilling a hole into his forehead. “Ya got all red, Omi!” 

Omi? “Omi?” Kiyoomi asks and now it’s Atsumu’s turn to get all red. 

“Um,” he clears his throat, dropping his head. “Short for Kiyoomi?” He looks at him through thick, dark lashes and Kiyoomi’s heart skips a beat. “All of my friends have a nickname,” he smiles. 

“I love it,” he simply says. “Use it more often,” Atsumu nods. “And eat your soup so you can rest, okay?” He moves as if he were gonna stand up. 

“Ya leavin’?” Atsumu asks. 

“Well, yeah.” He answers. “I have a bunch of stuff to work on and I don’t wanna bother you when you’re sick.” Atsumu shakes his head. 

“No bother! You can use my desk or my puff or… or my couch, even my bed!” He says. “Stay, I like it when you’re around,” that takes him by surprise. 

“Okay,” he nods. 

They end up talking until Atsumu passes out, soup container empty and carefully placed on his bedside table. His mouth is a bit open and his long lashes hit his tanned skin just right. His freckles are barely visible but Kiyoomi knows they’re there from a picture Atsumu showed him. His reading glasses are on his bed so Kiyoomi gets up and takes them, carefully getting them inside their box and placing them on the bedside table too. 

He looks around and finds his bag right next to Atsumu’s bed. He checks his phone first and discards some texts from Akaashi and Oikawa. He looks at his assignments on a special app he has and goes for his bag to get his laptop out. 

His hand stops midway, debating if it should keep going the direction it's going or if he should run his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, drop a kiss on each of his cheeks and tuck him in even more. 

He shakes his head, getting rid of nonsense thoughts. Why is he thinking that kind of thing? Why is his heart beating so damn fast and why are his hands sweating? He swallows thickly, getting rid of a little knot that formed god-knows-when. He thinks about it a bit more and before he knows it he has a hand over Atsumu’s blonde hair. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes run over his face again: nose, eyes closed, lips . He swallows again, eyes drifting from his features. His fingers run slowly through his hair and Kiyoomi sighs, it is softer than he thought. 

But once again, he falls into realizing what he’s doing and starts overthinking, taking his hand away immediately. 

He cannot do this. He cannot fall for Atsumu. 

Kiyoomi ends up writing a little note and leaving it for Atsumu to read right beside him. He left him some onigiri on the counter plus the bag of marshmallows he bought him for some reason. 

He struggles with the locks on Atsumu’s door and trips over his own foot while putting on his shoes. He walks fast until he reaches his dorm, swiping his card and entering his room. He plugs in his kettle and boils water while he’s in the shower. 

Once he’s out, he pours himself a cup of tea and opens his laptop to work on next week’s assignments. 

Except he can’t. His mind is running around everything but his school work, and by everything he means Atsumu. He has his voice saying “indirect kiss” playing over and over again. His hands gripping the chocolate and blowing on it to not burn his tongue. The small amount of foam he got on his cupid's bow after the second sip and how Kiyoomi wanted to kiss him to get rid of it. His nails painted with pink nail polish are already starting to fade. 

His tired eyes and his hair not fixed, but messy. His nose was a bit red and his voice was hoarse from all the coughing he did, even in his sleep. 

He throws himself face first on his bed, screaming into the mattress. He should be working on university assignments, not having a full-on gay crisis. He’s come to terms with that, he knows he’s gay, and his mother knows. But he swore he’ll never fall in love again. 

He swore he would never feel anything for anyone else. No one. 

Why is Atsumu messing with his head so much? Not directly, it’s not like Atsumu is pulling strings in his mind, making him think of him but god, Kiyoomi can’t get him out of his head. 

His phone buzzes in his hand and to no one’s surprise: Atsumu. 

u left:( 

nvm i found your note, thanks for stopping by tho <3

And now Kiyoomi has the ugliest, dumbest smile on his face. He wants to beat himself up and throw his body under a train, maybe that’ll get Atsumu out of his head. 

He doesn’t reply, he plugs his phone into its charger and walks over to his desk again to try and work for a little while. Before he knows it, he’s done with three assignments and the clock on the wall marks midnight. He stretches a little, back cracking and making him sigh. 

“Coffee…” he mumbles while rummaging through his drawers. “Decaf? No,” he throws a little bag inside the drawer and makes an exasperated sound. “Great, I’m out of coffee.” 

It’s midnight so there’s… no way that the coffee shop is still open. But the convenience store is. 

He throws on some sweats and a hoodie, a thick sweater underneath, and grabs a pair of slip-on shoes. He grabs his tote bag and slips his laptop in, maybe he could sit inside the seven-eleven to finish his work. His dorm makes him want to fall asleep right on the spot. 

He takes his keys, headphones and wallet and leaves his room. He walks in the wrong direction, feet moving on their own to the coffee shop. He doesn’t realize that until he’s standing right outside and, surprisingly, there’s a small sign that reads “24H”. That wasn’t there before. 

He sighs, thinking if he should go inside or not. 

“Coming in?” Kiyoomi freezes and turns around, slowly. 

There he is again, smiling. His nose is red and the corner of his eyes too. His hair is less messy than before and his outfit is similar to his. He has his hands inside his pockets and his sketchbook tucked under his arm. 

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi gives him a little smile. “Are you feeling better?” 

“So much better,” he nods. “Think it was because you were around,” he blurts out and Kiyoomi blushes lightly. 

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi says and Atsumu laughs. “What are you doing here anyway?” 

“Same question for you,” he answers. 

“I wanted coffee and needed to finish an assignment,” he says, pushing the door open. 

“I wanted coffee and needed to draw,” Atsumu says, making Kiyoomi roll his eyes. 

“Welcome,” the barista says, yawning. “Makki, wake up,” he pushes his co-worker and wakes him up, eyes opening in a second. 

“Welcome, welcome,” the pink -haired guy says. “Tadashi, I was having a very nice dream.” He flicks him off and puts his head on his arms again to rest. 

Yamaguchi rolls his eyes and turns to them, smiling. “What can I get you?” 

“I’ll get…” Atsumu looks up at the menu on the wall. “I want something warm,” he says and Yamaguchi nods. 

“We can make any drink either hot or cold, so… anything that you particularly like?” 

“Chocolate,” Kiyoomi whispers and they both turn to him. 

“He’s right,” Atsumu nods. “A hot chocolate please,” he gives a little smile to Yamaguchi and he smiles back. 

Maybe he is Atsumu’s type: he’s pretty cute, has freckles all over his face and his hair is two different colors. White at the bottom and black on top, plus he has his hair long enough for him  to have it tied up in half a ponytail. His ears are pierced and filled with jewelry and he has a bunch of little tattoos on his right hand. 

“And for you?” Kiyoomi hears, distantly. 

“Cappuccino,” Atsumu answers for him. “Oat milk, please.” He smiles and Yamaguchi nods, writing on the cup. 

How does Atsumu remember all that stuff? He told him like… once he was lactose intolerant and that for assignments he only drank Cappuccinos or black coffee. 

Yamaguchi says the total and Kiyoomi reaches into his bag for his wallet but Atsumu pays for both of them. 

“I’ll call you when these are ready!” Yamaguchi says and punches Hanamaki again, waking him up. “Why do you sign up for a midnight job if you’re never awake, I’m always working for you!” Hanamaki mocks him before taking one of the cups from his hands. 

Atsumu laughs and Kiyoomi is completely out of it. He’s staring into the wall where all the hearts and love definitions are. Where the red strings meet and tangle. 

“ Do you believe in soulmates, Atsumu ?” It comes out before he can think it through. 

And Atsumu’s response is immediate. “Yes,” he looks at Kiyoomi with the softest look he’s ever given him. “I believe there’s someone we need to find, someone who will be there in the end. No matter what, no matter who we run into first. No matter how much we get hurt in the process or how much we change. They will be there to accept and take us as we are because just as one, they’ve been waiting for us too.” He says and Kiyoomi feels his heart hurt. 

Atsumu wants to ask, too. He would also like to take Kiyoomi’s hand, maybe just brush it with his fingers while they sit at a table and talk. But before he can ask, Hanamaki brings Kiyoomi’s coffee first. 

“Yours will be out in just a sec,” Hanamaki says, lazily winking at him. 

Atsumu nods, putting his hands in his pockets and bouncing on his feet. Kiyoomi smiles at him when Atsumu does and looks away immediately. He wants to ask something. 

“Omi,” the given nickname makes him shiver. 

“Yes?” He replies, clearing his throat. 

“Think I can draw ya?” Oh. Kiyoomi doesn’t know what to say. “It’s like… totally okay if you don’t want to, I don’t even know why I…” 

“Sure,” he answers, sipping on his drink. A light blush covers his cheeks. “No weird poses, though,” 

Atsumu laughs, shaking his head. “No weird poses, I promise. We’ll sit right here and you can work on your assignment while I draw, I won’t bother you.” 

“You never bother me,” Kiyoomi says, trying to keep it inside his mind. “I mean…” 

Atsumu chuckles, a dark blush creeping up his neck right over the tip of his ears. “Thanks? I think,” Atsumu smiles. Hanamaki waits and when they’re done talking he places the cup on the counter.

“Here you go, pretty boy.” Atsumu rolls his eyes and gestures for Kiyoomi to follow him over to their table. 

Right, their table. It’s now reserved for them: every day at the same hour, for at least five hours. But this is an exception for both of them. Kiyoomi sits on his chair, back facing the wall and Atsumu sits across from him, back towards the glass door. 

The darkness outside makes the coffee feel warm and cozier. It makes them feel closer to one another. Kiyoomi follows Atsumu’s moves as he turns the pages on his sketchbook and finds a blank page, ready to draw. 

Kiyoomi gets his phone out, scrolling around TikTok with one of his earbuds on. “I’m gonna start now,” he looks up, arching a brow. 

“You make me ugly and we’ll stop hanging out,” Kiyoomi hisses out, making Atsumu cackle. 

“Ya can’t live without me, Omi-kun,” maybe he’s right.

No, he is not right because Kiyoomi feels nothing but friendship for Atsumu. Yeah, maybe he thinks a bit too much about him but that’s just because he cares about him. He wonders what shampoo he uses that makes his hair smell like berries or what his skincare routine is that makes him have flawless skin. Or maybe ask him if he ever got braces in high school because he finds his teeth extremely nice and for some reason attractive. He also wants to share with him that he got braces in high school and his teeth hurt like fucking ass. 

But he just nods instead. 

“I mean,” Atsumu starts again. “We can talk while I draw, I can do multiple things at once,” Kiyoomi snorts, putting his phone down. 

“What do you wanna talk about?” Kiyoomi says, giving him a little smile. “Ask away,” 

“Hmmm, not exactly something in particular but I mean, it’s gonna be three months since we first met and I feel like we could get to know each other a bit more?” 

“We know each other just well enough, I think?” Kiyoomi replies, adjusting himself on the chair. “I know how whiny you get when you’re sick,” 

Atsumu’s mouth falls open, trying to hold back his laugh. “Mean, Omi.” He gives a smile and Kiyoomi imitates. “I mean, we don’t have to get that deep,” he shrugs and Kiyoomi sighs. 

“I have the feeling that you want to ask me something,” he whispers. “Go ahead,” he nods and his hair moves as well. 

“Did you get braces in high school?” What? 

“Yeah,” he says. “Did you?” 

“Nope,” he sticks his tongue while brushing his pencil against the paper. “All me,” he smiles wide, his canines standing out from the rest of his teeth. 

“That’s nice,” Kiyoomi says. “I had to wear them for like… four years?” Atsumu gasps, looking up from his paper. “My teeth were pretty crooked,” he smiles, not showing his teeth. 

“Are you,” Atsumu clears his throat. “Insecure?” 

“About my teeth?” Atsumu nods. “A little, only when I’m conscious of them, otherwise they’re just… there.” He explains and Atsumu nods. 

Atsumu hums, a breathy laugh coming from him. He looks at Kiyoomi and Kiyoomi looks at him. Atsumu feels heat climbing up to his cheeks, slowly. And against all odds, at midnight inside a poorly lit cafe, Atsumu can see the dark green of his eyes. He can see their dark color and how pale Kiyoomi is, how it makes him look like he’s made out of porcelain. His nose is small and his lips are too. But enough, Atsumu thinks. How his lashes hit the underside of his eyes every time he blinks and the two little moles he has over his brow. 

He would like to place a small kiss over them and move down from there to find Kiyoomi’s lips. His nose is small and his lips are too. But enough, Atsumu thinks. It would be enough for their lips to lock perfectly together. Atsumu would run his thumb over Kiyoomi’s skin and grab him by the neck to bring him close to his lips and would say something stupid, making Kiyoomi laugh before he goes in for the kiss. 

“Earth calling Atsumu?” Kiyoomi moves his hands in front of his face and Atsumu snaps back to reality. 

“Huh?” His eyes move everywhere and end up on his drink. That’s probably cold by now. 

“I’ve been calling you for a bit, asked a question and all,” Kiyoomi says, sipping on his coffee. “I got scared that maybe I made you uncomfortable.” Kiyoomi scratches the back of his head. 

“What did you ask?” Atsumu fixes his sitting. 

“Oh, nothing,” 

“C’mon, Omi,” he shakes his head. “Omi, tell meee. Please, please, please, please, I’m gonna die if you don't say it! Do you want me to die?” Atsumu’s eyes grow big and Kiyoomi smiles. 

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi stands from the chair and places a hand over Atsumu’s mouth. 

Kiyoomi can feel the way Atsumu’s breathing quickens, how his lips part open and god, his mind plays him dirty. 

“I asked if you were seeing anyone,” Kiyoomi says, sitting back down and bringing his hand with him. 

Atsumu raises a brow at the question. “Why? Do ya wanna ask me out?”

“Just answer the question,” Kiyoomi blushes, sinking into his seat.

“No,” Atsumu says. “I’m not seeing anyone.” He tucks a lock behind his ear and pushes his glasses up. “What about you?” Please, say no. 

“No,” Atsumu smiles internally. “No one,” he sips on his coffee again. 

“May I ask why?” Atsumu doesn’t look up, he draws a few rough lines while he waits for Kiyoomi to answer. 

“Ex-boyfriend situations.” Boyfriend. 

He had a boyfriend. 

Atsumu’s eyes move up slowly, looking over at Kiyoomi who is already looking at him. “Oh,” is all he says. 

“Are you… cool with that or should I leave?” A bitter laugh comes from him. He’s been here before, Atsumu thinks. 

“I’m very okay with it, don’t move,” Atsumu says, and Kiyoomi’s eyes sparkle. “So was he like… mean?” 

“No,” Kiyoomi sighs. “We just… stopped loving each other? But I was pretty hurt and haven’t been able to… you know.” 

“Oh,” Atsumu whispers. “I don’t think we ever stop loving someone.” 

Atsumu waits for an answer, but Kiyoomi doesn’t reply, so Atsumu takes the hint. 

“What's he like?” Oh, not that. 

“Dark hair, brown eyes. A bit shorter than me,” Kiyoomi answers, looking at Atsumu who’s still drawing lines and lines. 

“I see,” Atsumu answers. 

Things get quiet after that, leaving Kiyoomi with a bunch of questions to ask Atsumu about past partners. And time flies and flies until their clocks hit three in the morning. 

Atsumu closes his sketchbook and yawns, looking down at his phone and gasping. “Shit, I have class tomorrow!” 

“Tomorrow’s a Saturday,” Kiyoomi answers, scrolling through his phone. 

“Oh, oh. You’re right,” he falls back to his chair, flopping on the table. “I’m tired, though,” 

“We should get going, then,” Kiyoomi stands up and Atsumu follows. “I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?” Kiyoomi asks, hands rubbing together from the cold. 

“Yeah,” Atsumu nods. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” Kiyoomi shakes his head along with his hands. 

“Oh, no. You don’t need to…” 

“I will,” Atsumu says. “It’s late and cold and I want to know you got there safe,” 

“Atsumu…” But before he can fight him again, Kiyoomi finds that Atsumu is already walking. 

They walk in silence, looking around at the little shops that have been closed for a really long time.

“Uh, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi says. “Have you… I mean, did you, uh…” he looks for words, trying to organize his thoughts. “Have you been in love before?” He swallows and Atsumu turns to him. 

“Uh…” he runs a hand through his hair. “Not in love but I’ve been in a relationship before.” He says, trying to explain. “She was real pretty and smart,” he smiles. “Not so funny, she had a weird sense of humor,” 

She. A girl. 

“But then I broke up with her because I discovered more about myself and she wasn’t okay with that, and that’s okay too.” He explains while moving his hands. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m bi,” Kiyoomi feels his stomach turn upside down and his heart goes crazy. 

“Oh,” he whispers and Atsumu stops. 

“Now, are you okay with that or should I go back to my place?”

“Don’t…” Kiyoomi reaches for Atsumu’s hand, making him do a double take. “Don’t go back to your place, you have to walk me home,” Kiyoomi whispers. “What if I get robbed or something?” 

“Then I’m no help, Omi-kun.” He shrugs. “We would both get robbed,” 

“Thanks for the help, Atsumu-san,” Kiyoomi jokes, and Atsumu laughs, tugging Kiyoomi’s hand and playing with his index finger. 

The walk is quieter, even more than before. There are very few people on the street and every other shop or restaurant is now closed. They walk side to side, hands still tangled together. Kiyoomi looks everywhere, including at Atsumu. 

And holy mother of god he is pretty. He’s even prettier in this light. 

Atsumu’s phone dings and he lets go of Kiyoomi’s hand to reply to the text from his brother.

He puts his phone away and looks to the front again.

His eyes look tired and there are dark circles around them but he wears a little smile proudly. “What’cha looking at, Omi?” He caught him by surprise and Kiyoomi immediately looks to the front. “C’mon, no need to do that,” Atsumu says, smiling. “I already saw you,”

“I wasn’t looking at anything in particular,” Kiyoomi answers, quickening his pace. 

“Then why do you run from me?” 

“I’m not running,” Kiyoomi laughs, steps getting faster and faster by the second. 

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu screams while laughing, trying to get him by the backside of his sweater. 

Kiyoomi runs faster or maybe it’s because of how long his legs are that he’s first to the dorms, gasping for air right at the door.

“You’re incredibly slow,” Kiyoomi says, out of breath.

“And you’re an ass,” Atsumu says, heart racing inside his chest. 

“We’re here, you can go home now,” Kiyoomi says, smiling. 

“Hell no, I wanna get you to your dorm” Atsumu gets closer to Kiyoomi, and instant warmth envelops him. 

“Are you gonna force me to invite you in?” Kiyoomi says, swiping his card and letting them both into the building. 

“Only if you feel like it,” Atsumu says, smiling. 

“I’ll think about it while we take the elevator,” Kiyoomi hums, pressing the button and waiting for it to open. 

He can feel Atsumu’s eyes on him like two nails that are digging into a wall. He can feel a burning sensation on the back of his neck and knows that Atsumu is watching. 

The elevator dings and its doors open, letting them both in. Kiyoomi presses on his floor and hears the ding of a phone and Atsumu laughs. 

He’s got people texting him at three in the morning? 

“Is it your brother again?” 

“Huh? No, no. It’s Makki!” He smiles and Kiyoomi’s gut twists

“The guy from before,” Kiyoomi says before he can think this through. “The barista,” he clarifies who he’s talking about. 

“Who?” Atsumu says, not moving from his place. “Hanamaki?” 

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi swallows. “Do you have anything going on with him?” 

“Wha—no, god, no!” Atsumu gags. “We’re friends, we share some classes.” He explains, tongue twisting as he talks. 

Kiyoomi hums at the same time the elevator opens again, letting them both out. Kiyoomi walks without telling Atsumu to follow but he obviously does. They get to a brown door with a label on the side: Sakusa K.

“Fancy,” Atsumu flicks the board. “So this is you?” 

“This is me,” Kiyoomi says and smiles to himself from how… unbelievable this is. 

It’s like a romantic movie. Like all of those things, he's ever wanted. 

Kiyoomi looks up at Atsumu and he comes closer, too close. 

“You have…” Atsumu starts and Kiyoomi panics, covering his face. “Oh, stop. Let me do it,” Atsumu says, index and thumb coming together to simulate some tweezers. “You have a lash on your cheek,” 

“Oh,” Kiyoomi says, letting Atsumu take off the lash and enjoying the small touch. 

“There,” Atsumu whispers and when Kiyoomi opens his eyes again, he finds Atsumu really close to him. 

They don’t say anything and just… stand there in an empty hall. In the middle of the hall in silence, staring into each other’s eyes until Atsumu’s honey pools move down to Kiyoomi’s lips and back up to his eyes. As if he was asking something with them. 

Kiyoomi’s lips part open and Atsumu leans closer, gaze moving fast between his eyes and his lips. 

“Omi,” Atsumu whispers. “Can I…?” 

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi whispers back, lips barely brushing together. “I—”

“ Please, ” Atsumu sounds desperate. 

And Kiyoomi should say no, he should. But when he looks down and finds Atsumu with his eyes closed and his lips shiny with spit he just can’t bring himself to say no. 

He grabs him by the face, squishing his cheeks and bringing their lips together. They move slowly against one another, breathing through their nose and enjoying how good it feels. 

Atsumu tastes like mint and chocolate, with a hint of marshmallow too. His lips are soft, unlike what Kiyoomi thought they’d be. 

Kiyoomi tastes like coffee and smells like flowers from his shampoo. His hands are making this delicious pressure over Atsumu’s cheeks and it makes him want to melt into him. For Kiyoomi to carry him around forever. 

That’s right, Atsumu is now kissing the guy who he has feelings for. He likes him so much; ever since he stepped into that coffee house he got enchanted with his beautiful face. 

Atsumu gasps, mouth opening just a little bit and responding back to the kiss. 

God, it just feels so… good. It feels like it was meant to be. 

Them, kissing in the hallway with shaky hands and sweaty palms. 

They pull apart, Atsumu dropping a quick kiss on his lips and smiling against them. 

He’s about to go in for another when Kiyoomi speaks. “Atsumu,” he whispers and Atsumu pauses. “I’m scared,” his voice is softer than it has ever been. There’s no sign of sarcasm or that serious tone he always has. 

“Why? What are you scared of?” Atsumu keeps brushing his lips against Kiyoomi’s, fingers sliding in between one another. “I’m here, don’t be scared,”

Kiyoomi’s chest hurts at the words. “I’m scared of falling,” Kiyoomi says and swallows the knot he has on his throat. Atsumu looks up to find Kiyoomi already looking down at him. 

“Then don’t fall yet,” Atsumu says, turning the handle of the door carefully and pushing it open. “Just let go,” he whispers before taking Kiyoomi by the nape of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss, pushing them both inside Kiyoomi’s dorm room and kicking the door closed. 

They kiss for a little while before Atsumu pulls away from Kiyoomi, bruised lips shining with spit. 

Kiyoomi smiles, looking a little to the side from how swollen Atsumu’s lips look and he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. 

“Well that’s…” Atsumu starts. “New,” Kiyoomi laughs and moves to his bed, sitting in the corner. 

Atsumu follows when Kiyoomi moves, standing right in front of him when Kiyoomi sits. “You can sit here,” Kiyoomi pats the spot next to him and Atsumu obeys. “I was…” he feels the heat run up to his cheeks. “That caught me off guard.” 

“Heh, sorry, Omi-kun,” Atsumu scratches the back of his neck and Kiyoomi shakes his hands. 

“I’m not… against it,” Atsumu lets out a breathy laugh, throwing his body to lay flat against the bed. 

He inhales and feels his stomach turn when he gets Kiyoomi’s smell mixed with sheet softener and soap. “Smells like ya,” Atsumu says, cheek squished against the covers. 

He lets out a yawn and Kiyoomi flops beside him, both turning to each other at the same time. “Yer eyes are so pretty, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu says, bringing a hand to his chin and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi mutters against his lips, and Atsumu smiles, wide. 

“Make me,” and Atsumu has nothing to expect. So when Kiyoomi kisses him again and again, he has no other choice but to stay quiet for long. 

Until he realizes where he is and what time it is. “I should… get going,” Atsumu sits up and fixes his glasses again. 

Kiyoomi follows and looks to his bedside table, where his digital clock reads: 4:24 am. 

“It’s late,” Kiyoomi says and Atsumu chuckles. 

“I know, that’s why I’m leaving,” 

“You can stay here,” he says and Atsumu drops his shoe. “I… it’s late for you to walk alone right now. I’ll throw some blankets on the floor, you can sleep on the bed.” Kiyoomi explains. 

“I’ll take the offer,” Atsumu says, picking up his shoe again. “But I won’t let you sleep on the floor, I’m the guest, I get the floor,” Kiyoomi smiles, shaking his head. 

“Seriously, I’m okay with sleeping on the floor,” he says and opens his closet, pulling some sheets and a white duvet plus two pillows. He stretches them out on the floor, next to his bed and he has a little place to sleep for the night. 

But Atsumu throws himself onto the floor and lands next to Kiyoomi’s feet. “Wow, thanks for the bed, Omi-kun,” Atsumu winks at him and he feels his cheeks burn. 

“C’mon, Atsumu,” he shakes his head, and Kiyoomi sighs. “Are you sure?” Atsumu nods. 

He then proceeds to take off his sweatshirt, making the shirt underneath pull up a bit. And Kiyoomi sees it: he sees the bottom side of his abs plus what seems to be a happy trail. 

He’ll be frothing in the mouth and having a fucking wet dream tonight, he hears inside his head and stops. 

Why would he have a wet dream about Atsumu? They’re just friends who happened to kiss once and now he’s staying over. There’s no need to have a wet dream. 

He visibly shakes his head at the same time that Atsumu’s head is free from his hoodie and now his hair is all messy. 

Great. This is just… great. 

He runs a hand through his hair, fixing it a bit and moving under the duvet while his hands visibly shake from the cold. 

“I’ll turn on the heat,” Kiyoomi whispers as if he had just remembered. 

“Thanks, Omi,” Atsumu yawns. “G’night, ‘mi-kun.” 

Aaand he’s completely out. Kiyoomi snorts at the sight of Atsumu falling asleep so damn fast. He smiles to himself for a second before noticing how peaceful Atsumu looks: chest falling and rising every second, his lips parted open and his lashes curling up. He looks like he’s been taken out of a freaking movie. 

Kiyoomi cringes at his own thoughts, walking to the bathroom and washing his face plus his teeth. He clips his hair up like he always does but then stops. He doesn’t want Atsumu to see him with his front hair clipped back in the morning. Hmmm, yeah. No, that won't be happening, he thinks. He undoes the clip and lets his hair fall back down. 

He walks to his bed, carefully trying to not wake up Atsumu, and succeeds. He reaches for the light switch and before he turns it off, he looks at Atsumu again. Kiyoomi gets an urge to get off his bed and hug him, kiss him, and run a hand through his blonde hair. But instead, he stares. 

And stares and stares. At Atsumu, the wall, his hands, his phone. Everywhere until he falls asleep and the last thing he remembers is Atsumu’s lips on him. 

Kiyoomi wakes up to the sound of his door being closed. 

He rubs his eyes trying to get sleep off of them and blinks a few times trying to adjust to the lights.

He then hears rustling and something falling, some cursing and after that, he’s up and ready to fight whoever is in his dorm right now. 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya, Omi,” Atsumu smiles at Kiyoomi. His hands are busy with a plastic bag and chopsticks. “I went out and got ya breakfast,” Atsumu says. “I hope you like Korean food,” 

Kiyoomi nods, confused. 

Why is Atsumu there? Didn’t he dream about everything that happened?

“Omi?” Atsumu calls him again, mouth full of what seems to be kimbap. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m okay,” he nods. “Just need to… fully wake up,” Atsumu laughs, nodding. 

An alarm goes off and Atsumu curses. “Shit, I have to go.” He says, munching on his last piece of breakfast. “Ya have class today?” 

Does he? He is incredibly confused right now. “Yeah,” he lies. He doesn’t remember. 

“I’ll see you after then,” Atsumu says, picking up his keys and drinking from a bottle of water. “Bye, Omi,” he smiles and walks to Kiyoomi. 

He places a hand on his cheek and pulls him in for a quick kiss on the lips and after that, a kiss on the cheek. 

“Bye,” Kiyoomi stands there, frozen as he processes what just happened. 

He looks around and finds the duvet folded neatly next to Kiyoomi’s bed. He finds a small chocolate on his bedside table and the breakfast Atsumu left for him. His fingers move on their own, landing on his lips trying to end the tingling sensation. 

Atsumu kissed him before leaving. And he kissed him last night too, right before entering his dorm and before falling asleep. 

And Kiyoomi kissed him back a few times of his own will, trying to shut up Atsumu. 

Kiyoomi closes his eyes hard and throws himself on the bed. Screaming directly into his pillow. 

This wasn’t in his plans. 

None of it, actually.

Not him and Atsumu being friends, not them hanging out every single day and of course, not them kissing. 

He lays on his bed, eyes focusing on a dot on the ceiling and his mind replaying every event from the night before. From the day before. 

He grabs his phone, trying to find it under the covers. 

He dials his emergency phone number and after two beeps, he picks up. 

“Panic line, hello?” He jokes around and when Kiyoomi doesn’t laugh his tone changes completely. “Kiyoomi?” 

“I’m going to your house,” he says. “Call Akaashi and tell Iwa to leave.” 

“Yes, sir.” Oikawa hangs up the phone and Kiyoomi gets up, locking himself in the bathroom.  

////

Two pairs of eyes are looking at him, completely serious. 

“Can you at least say something?” Kiyoomi says, running a hand through his hair. 

“You like him,” they both say at the same time. 

“I don’t. I can’t,” 

“You can’t?” Oikawa asks, voice funny. “Or are you scared?” 

“I can’t,” Kiyoomi repeats. “We’re friends, I don’t want to lose that.” 

“You were friends with Ryo before you went out with him,” Akaashi says, breaking their only rule as a friend group. 

But Kiyoomi doesn’t care that much. He doesn’t mind that Akaashi talks of his ex-boyfriend like that because his mind is filled with Atsumu. 

That could be a little hint. 

Kiyoomi sighs again, sitting on the couch. “And if I like him?” He asks, quietly. “I have this weird behavior towards him, as if I wanted to protect him and just spend my days with him,” 

“That’s the fun part of liking someone,” Oikawa reaches for his knee. “Let go, Kiyoomi,” 

“You could think about it,” Akaashi says, sipping on his iced coffee. “There’s nothing wrong with thinking,” he shrugs at the same time Kiyoomi’s phone goes off. 

He looks at the screen and finds an alarm for his afternoon class, making him get up the second after. 

“I will, I will,” he says, pulling his bag over his shoulder. “I have class, I forgot,” 

“Do you want me to take you?” Oikawa says, waving his car keys in front of Kiyoomi. 

“Please,” he sounds desperate. Just like Atsumu did last night. 

Fuck, he needs to stop thinking about him.

Oikawa’s already at the door when Kiyoomi walks through, waving at Akaashi and sliding into his car.

“Do not eat the cake, it’s for Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hisses and closes the door, and walks to his car. 

Well, Iwaizumi’s car. “Are you sure Iwaizumi-san is okay with you driving his car?” Kiyoomi asks when the engine starts. 

“Of course he is, what’s his is mine,” Oikawa smiles, putting both hands on the steering wheel. 

He wasn’t okay with it, though. 

The drive starts quiet, music low as if it was there to make the whole situation less uncomfortable. Kiyoomi’s fingers tap against his leg and his phone buzzes, he doesn’t want to see who it is. 

Oikawa is focused on the street and makes Kiyoomi jump in place when he speaks for the first time in a while. “Are you seriously not going to acknowledge your feelings?” He asks, taking a right. 

“No,” he answers simply. “There are no feelings to acknowledge,” he shrugs. 

“Except there are,” Oikawa says. “You are seriously one of the most difficult people I’ve ever come across,” Oikawa laughs, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not Ryo, Kiyoomi,” Oikawa whispers as if it was forbidden to say that name. 

“No one can make sure of that,” he says, voice fading. 

“You can,” Oikawa says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m not ready,” Kiyoomi says, staring at Oikawa while he parks. “Thanks for the ride,” 

“We’re not done talking,” Oikawa says.

“I am,” Kiyoomi gets out of the car and closes the door, quickly walking into the psychology building. 

He may have come off as rude, incredibly rude. But he just doesn’t have the energy to have this conversation again. He’s had it: he should open up to the possibility of a new love, new experiences and new discoveries. He gets it but he doesn’t like the feeling of change. 

He’s not in love with his ex, he just can’t get over the fact that he may or may not get hurt in the same way. Or even worse. 

He’s too inside his own head to notice his phone ringing until he sits down in his class. 

Atsumu. 

Then there’s a text coming the second right after. 

“ Omiii do u wanna have coffee later???? :p” 

He reads the screen until it goes black. He doesn’t reply; he simply shoves his phone inside his bag and gets his laptop out before the class starts. 

He gets home two hours after, flopping onto his bed and sighing into his pillow. 

He stares at his phone, the unanswered message from Atsumu still on his notifications. He throws the phone, where it lands on the floor. He closes his eyes for a second before getting up again, unlocking his phone and typing a quick answer to Atsumu. 

“ Sorry I can’t today.” 

The message says read after a minute so he leaves the conversation. His phone buzzes again but he decides to ignore it. He walks to his desk and starts working on assignments that he has due next week. 

His mind wanders even though he’s focused on something else, it makes him feel all over the place. 

He opens the FaceTime app on his iPad and calls his mom. 

It rings twice before his mother appears on his screen. 

“Hi,” the connection is bad. “-omi,” it makes his stomach turn. 

“Mom?” 

“Hi, son,” now he can see her properly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Kiyoomi laughs, looking at his mom wearing her reading glasses and what looks like a sweater of his. “I can’t call when I miss you?” he asks, making his mother smile. 

“Of course you can call, sweetheart.” She moves around and taps the bed, calling Kiyoomi’s dog. “She misses you,” 

Fluffy, small ball of fur appears on the screen. Her black nose hovering over the camera. “Hi, Hoshi,” 

She looks around and barks, making Kiyoomi’s mom laugh. “Have you been feeling alright?” Kiyoomi whispers. 

“I’ve been great, Kiyoomi,” she’s back on screen and smiling. “Doctor says I’m okay too,” Kiyoomi sighs, as if a weight has been lifted off his chest. “Don’t worry so much, the worst part’s all over, Kiyo,” 

“I know, I just worry,” he admits, scribbling on a sheet next to his tablet. 

“Don’t,” his mother says, soft voice running through his body. Kiyoomi nods and his mom changes the subject. “I was looking at places to go on summer holiday, in case you don’t have plans,” 

“Summer holiday is still far, mom,” 

“But still,” she says, looking to the side. “What do you think about traveling inside Japan? We’ve only been to a few places here.” 

“Sure, where do you want to go?” Kiyoomi asks, drinking from his bottle of water.

“Hyogo,” she reads out loud from her laptop. 

Kiyoomi almost spits his water out. But he chokes instead, coughing and gasping for air. He makes a little mess of water on his desk, grabbing a cloth to dry it while coughing. He can hear his mom asking if he’s alright but doesn’t answer. 

He feels his insides burn, his hands are warm and his eyes are filled with tears. It’s not the water, it’s not the choking. Not the place, not anything. 

“Kiyoomi?” His mother asks, concerned. 

“I’m okay,” he says, looking to a different point. “I have to go, I was supposed to meet up with a friend and I forgot,” he gives her a weak smile and she nods, saying her goodbyes. 

He shuts his laptop and his iPad and walks to the bed. He takes off his jeans, staying in his underwear. 

He crawls under the duvet and sinks his face in his pillow, lip trembling as thoughts rush into his mind. He breathes in and pauses, getting the overwhelming smell of Atsumu’s hair.That’s what it takes for him to start crying. Why? Who knows. 

It’s a mix of feelings: sad, anxious. 

Even nauseous.

////

It’s been two weeks since he last saw Atsumu. 

They saw each other  for a whole week in Atsumu’s apartment after their first kiss. They made out, kissed until their lips bruised and Kiyoomi left every time with a different excuse.

Now he’s been avoiding him, ignoring his calls and lying when he texts him. They ran into each other and Kiyoomi said he had stuff to do. Atsumu nods, smiles and leaves. 

Atsumu offered to stop by his dorm and Kiyoomi ignored the text. 

He asked him to meet him at the coffee house and Kiyoomi ignored the text. 

Atsumu needed help with an assignment, and Kiyoomi ignored the text. 

He has fallen into an unstoppable routine of avoiding, getting coffee, barely sleeping and spending most of his time inside his dorm.

The warm feeling slowly turns into coldness. Kiyoomi slowly forgets how Atsumu’s lips feel or how his hands move while drawing. 

Until right now. 

Kiyoomi enters the coffee house and finds it almost empty. There are a couple of tables filled and his, or what used to be his table is occupied by blonde hair and thick, pretty hands stroking a pencil against white paper. 

Their eyes meet and Kiyoomi feels his stomach sink and his cheeks warm. He’s about to wave when Atsumu looks away, eyes almost making a hole in his sketchbook. 

Well, he deserves it. 

He walks to the counter and orders his usual drink. “For here?” 

“To go,” he answers, head turning back from where Atsumu’s sitting. 

There’s a new guy behind the counter, someone he has never seen before. 

He gets his coffee and looks at Atsumu one last time, at least to say goodbye. Nope. 

He exits the shop and stands outside for a couple of minutes before his feet decide to move back to his dorm. 

He enters, throws his bag and strips out of his street clothes. 

He’s just putting on his shorts when someone knocks on his door. “One sec,” he calls out, loud enough. He grabs a clean tee and slides it down his body. 

They knock again, more insistent. “One second,” he can barely fix the shirt before swinging the door open. “Yeah?” 

A girl that lives next to him is standing right outside his door. “Sorry to bother you,” she says, looking away from him. “There’s someone downstairs looking for you?” 

For him? “Who?” He asks. 

“I don’t know his name, he’s blonde?” 

Kiyoomi goes pale. “Oh, I know,” he whispers, grabbing a pair of outside slippers. “Thank you,” he bows and exits his room. 

He walks down the stairs, gets to the first floor and yep, there he is. 

He’s wearing a zip-up hoodie and black jeans, bouncing from one foot to the other while he waits. 

Kiyoomi breathes in, slowly. He pushes the glass door open and walks down the stone stairs from his building. Atsumu looks up slowly, eyes looking dark. 

He has circles under his eyes and there’s a pack of cigarettes in his hand. “Hey,” Kiyoomi mutters, hugging himself from the cold. 

“What the hell is going on?” Atsumu asks. That’s the question Kiyoomi feared the most. 

A few drops of water land on his cheeks and on Atsumu’s hair. 

It’s started to rain. 

“About?” He asks back. God, he is fucking stupid. 

Atsumu huffs a laugh, looking around. “What’s your fucking deal?” Atsumu asks in a desperate tone. 

“I don’t know what you’re…” Kiyoomi gets cut off. 

“You don’t know?” Atsumu says. “Really? Do you expect me to believe that load of crap?” Atsumu’s pretty face is covered in water, his eyes are red and his neck vein is popping. “We kissed once and you act all weird, so I gave you your space and time because maybe I freaked you out,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “But then you keep coming over to study and we end up making out so I thought ‘oh, maybe he does like me’ or ‘maybe we can try something out’,” he breathes in. “But, god what you did was fucking rude!” 

“Atsumu,” he tries but Atsumu shakes his head. 

“I get that you’re scared, Iget it,” he says, his voice is hoarse and his eyes are even more red. Maybe he’s crying. “I’ve been heartbroken before, Omi-kun. You’re not the only one who goes through that kind of stuff,” Atsumu raises his voice a little. 

“I’m scared to death too but god, Kiyoomi,” he covers his eyes with the heel of his hands. “I like you so much it makes me sick,” Kiyoomi furrows his brows and feels how all the air in his lungs has been sucked out. “And I thought you liked me too because you kept kissing me back but that’s on me for forgetting that people kiss other people without feeling fucking anything,” Atsumu spits out. “I know you’re scared that you’re gonna get hurt again,” Kiyoomi just stares. “But I’m not him, I would never, ever hurt you,”

“Atsumu,” he tries again and now he can speak. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“You’re sorry?” 

“For everything,” Kiyoomi says. 

And Atsumu’s eyes break his fucking heart. 

He looks shattered, lifeless, hurt . 

Atsumu huffs and groans, looking up. “This was pointless,” he mutters and hurts Kiyoomi deeply. 

“I’m really sorry,” 

“Just finish this, Kiyoomi,” he says. “Whatever this is, between you and me, finish it. Twist the knife,” 

A tear escapes Kiyoomi’s eye and Atsumu would like to eat his own words back. 

Kiyoomi doesn’t reply, he just stares. His body is shaking and his eyes burn from how hard he’s holding in his tears. Atsumu stares back, waiting for a response. 

There’s not going to be a response, Kiyoomi thinks. He would like to say it out loud. He would also want to grab Atsumu and hug him tight, telling him how sorry he is. 

Atsumu looks away first, mumbling something Kiyoomi can’t understand or either read his lips. 

He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie and turns away, leaving Kiyoomi alone in the rain. He feels like collapsing onto the floor, he feels like crying until he throws up from pain. His chest hurts but he’s not scared. He knows what it is: he’s heartbroken. 

He’s heartbroken from breaking someone else’s heart. He’s heartbroken from not accepting his feelings. He’s heartbroken from not falling. 

He’s crying and has started moving. He has no place in mind and Atsumu isn’t around anymore to follow. 

He walks and walks until he’s right outside the coffee shop, open sign right on the front door but it’s empty. 

The door opens before Kiyoomi reaches for it and he stops, looking up and finding Iizuna right in front of him. “Took you long enough,”

Huh? Kiyoomi looks at Iizuna, confused. “What?” 

“Come in, you’re gonna freeze to death,” Kiyoomi walks in and is given a towel to dry off as much water as he can. “Do you want anything to drink?” Iizuna asks. 

“I don’t have my wallet on me,” 

“It’s on me,” Iizuna says, smiling. 

Kiyoomi tries to smile back and nods. “A hot chocolate is fine,” 

“Marshmallows?” He asks without turning back. 

“No, that’s Atsumu’s order,” he whispers. 

“Noted,” Iizuna moves behind the counter trying to get the drink as fast as he can. 

He’s back within a couple of minutes, leaving the cup where Kiyoomi’s sitting and walking to the door to change the sign from open to closed and locking the door. “Wanna tell me what happened? Why are you all wet?” Iizuna asks while Kiyoomi brings the drink close to his lips. 

The burning feeling on his throat makes him groan from pain but in a good way. His body gives a full shiver and makes Iizuna chuckle. “I… I am stupid,” Kiyoomi simply answers. 

“Why?” He sits down across Kiyoomi and tilts his head. 

“I can’t bring myself to accept the feelings I have. Feelings I’ve been having for a while now,” 

Iizuna hums, chin resting on his hand. “Want to know a little secret?” Kiyoomi looks up, confused once again. 

“Sure,” he nods. 

“I already knew,” Kiyoomi stops himself from drinking hot chocolate, leaving the cup on the table again. 

“What do you mean?” Iizuna adjusts himself on the chair, making Kiyoomi even more nervous. 

He gets up, walks behind the counter and brings out a little book, like a phone book. It’s red with golden letters at the front; it looks old, Kiyoomi thinks. Iizuna places it carefully in front of Kiyoomi, leaving his index finger on top. 

“Page five hundred and ninety five,” he simply says. 

But there’s no way this book is longer than a hundred pages. He opens it around the middle: page 356. 

Kiyoomi grabs the book, trying to understand the logic between the tiny book and the number of pages. He turns the pages quickly until he gets to the page Iizuna had mentioned.

“Marshmallows: Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Kiyoomi says, looking up at Iizuna. He shakes his head and tilts his head so Kiyoomi keeps reading. 

Kiyoomi reads, over and over again. What the hell is this

“January, 2018.

Spring nationals: Itachiyama loses and so does Inarizaki. 

Kiyoomi puts his things away, bag slowly filling up again. “Kiyo!” Komori calls out and he looks up. “Are you all done?” Kiyoomi nods, getting up. 

The whistle blows on the court next to where he is, indicating the end of the match. Black uniforms and a blonde-piss-hair color guy complaining to his teammates. 

“Inarizaki must’ve lost too,” Komori says. He has always been like this, he doesn’t care if he loses or wins. He enjoys the feeling of playing and spending as much time as he can on the court. 

Kiyoomi shrugs, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. 

“Told ya ya should’ve played, Samu!” 

“Atsumu, shut up!”

Kiyoomi ignores the little scene two identical boys are doing and walks behind Komori. “Where are we going?” He asks. 

Komori turns to see him, walking backwards. “I found this café and I wanna go, it looks cute,” 

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and nods, speeding up the pace to be side to side with his cousin. 

They walk for a bit, grab the metro and walk a little bit more until they reach the coffee shop Komori said. “Âme”

“Why did you bring us to a french coffee place?” 

“It’s not french,” Komori punches Kiyoomi on his chest and opens the door.

Yes, idiot. It is french.

Kiyoomi follows him inside and Komori is already sitting down on a table close to the window. 

“Eh?” He hears and stops on his tracks. “Itachiyama?” He turns back and finds twins. 

Not just twins but the Miya twins. Kiyoomi nods, bowing a little. 

“Are you the guy with the really weird-bendy wrists?” Blonde, obnoxious guy asks. 

“I guess?” Kiyoomi answers and turns away to keep walking. 

“Your spikes are freaking awesome,” Kiyoomi turns around again. 

“Thank you,” he turns back again, walking away. 

“Ya don’t like anything from me?!” He yells from where he’s standing. 

“Ya scrub, shut up!” His brother says. “This is a nice place!” 

Kiyoomi hums a little laugh and sits next to Komori, snatching the menu off his hands. 

“I was reading that,” Komori hisses. 

“You’re slow when you read,” Kiyoomi says, already looking at the desserts.” 

And Kiyoomi remembers. 

He remembers the feeling of losing and how Komori tried to make him feel better by treating him to a coffee shop. And how they ran into the twins first and then the rest of the team. 

He does remember. 

“I know this is… weird,” Iizuna says. “But that’s how it works.” What works? 

“I’m so confused right now,” Kiyoomi says, running a hand through his hair. 

“This shop was owned by a really old couple,” he explains. “It started close to the gym where the nationals are every year but with time they decided to change the location,” Kiyoomi nods, trying to figure out where Iizuna is going with this. “I came to this same university but dropped out and started to look for a job immediately. Since this café was relatively new in the area they were understaffed and I took the opportunity,” Kiyoomi is really fucking confused. 

“There was only the lady left and she was so, so sweet. She explained why the café was named like that and why it’s love themed.” Finally, “You had dreams, right?” What? 

“Huh?” Kiyoomi says. 

“Dreams. Someone you didn’t know appeared in your dreams and said weird stuff to you; as time passed you were kinda unlocking new features of this mystery person, right?” 

“Yes,” Kiyoomi says, getting a shiver when he remembers his dreams for the first time in a while. 

“Do you remember who you saw?” Kiyoomi shakes his head. 

“I would always wake up covered in sweat and with my heart pounding against my chest but I could never remember who or what I saw,” 

Iizuna nods, as if it was the most normal thing to talk about. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Can you remember now, Kiyoomi?” Same soft voice brings back his dreams like a waterfall, filling his mind with different features of the person in his dreams. 

Blonde, golden hair, bright smile with sharp canines. Raspy, soft, whiny voice with an accent he’s been getting to know too much. 

“Do you see it now, Kiyoomi?” Iizuna repeats, making him look up straight into his eyes. 

“What is this?” Kiyoomi says, voice little. 

“It’s love,” he smiles. 

“What…?” 

“It’s all in there,” Kiyoomi looks down at the book. “The only thing missing is the end,” he sighs. “But that’s up to both of you,” he smiles. “I must tell you that you guys met here for a reason. It’s the energy of the café, it has some sort of power, magic. It’s all in here: if you meet someone here for the first time, being complete strangers, that’s your end game.” Iizuna says. 

“End game?” Kiyoomi repeats. 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Kiyoomi?” It drives him back to one day at the café when he asked that same question to Atsumu. 

“No,” he answers. 

“Well, you better start believing.” Iizuna jokes but Kiyoomi keeps a straight face. “It’s destiny,” Iizuna smiles. 

Faith, destiny, red threads. Everything sounds fake and made up and Kiyoomi can’t bring himself to believe that something like this is happening to him. 

His grandma said some stuff and he always believed until he got hurt, so every now and then that people mentioned soulmates, love, faith, it was nonsense. 

“What do I do?” Kiyoomi mutters. “I don’t… I have no idea how to,” he clears his throat. “I don’t know what to do,” 

“It’s not up to me,” Iizuna says, smile weak. “Ends aren’t written down,” it hits him like a wave hits sand at sea. 

There’s no one else who could write his story but him; there’s no one else that could try and understand everything but him. 

And there’s no one who could screw everything up but him. 

“Okay,” he whispers more to himself than to Iizuna.

He gets up, slowly as if he would get a headrush at any moment. He might get one from all the information he’s had dumped on him in the past 20 minutes. “Ya leaving?” He nods, silent. 

“Thanks for the drink,” he simply says before opening the door and exiting the cafe into February’s coldness. 

He is stupid for not bringing a coat with him. He has to walk back home in the cold wearing nothing but some basketball shorts, a shirt and slippers. His hair is messy and damp from the rain before and the street smells like water. He walks for ten minutes before his building stands tall in front of him, light out on most dorms and very little light on the other buildings. 

He feels alone somehow. Well, he is alone. 

He palms himself all over, trying to find the access card only to see it’s not with him.

“Fuck me,” he curses under his breath, eyes itching from the tears pooling down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, over and over. 

He gets his phone and dials Oikawa’s number. 

“Hello?” Iwaizumi’s hoarse voice picks up the call. That’s not Oikawa, but either of them works. 

“Hey, Iwaizumi,” Kiyoomi tries to sound as calm as he possibly can. “Is Oikawa around by chance?” 

“Oh, sure let me just,” Iwaizumi says, putting the phone to Oikawa’s mouth and then a snore comes out. “Bye, Kiyoomi,” 

“Wait, wait!” Kiyoomi raises his voice before Iwaizumi hangs up on him. “I wouldn’t be calling if this wasn't an emergency or something urgent,” 

Iwaizumi sighs. “What’s up?” He runs a hand through his hair and waits for Kiyoomi to answer. 

“Can you ask Oikawa to pick me up? I got locked out of my dorm and I have nowhere to go, effective tonight.” 

There’s silence and Kiyoomi feels scared. He double checks to see if Iwaizumi hung up on him and just waits. “I… I’ll come and pick you up, I don’t wanna disturb Tooru; he hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” 

Kiyoomi nods and then remembers Iwaizumi can’t see him. “Okay,” 

“Meet me outside your building, yeah?” 

“Wouldn’t go anywhere else,” he jokes around with a knot down his throat. 

Iwaizumi hangs up and Kiyoomi slumps down to one of the stone steps, ass getting wet as he sits down. 

Could this go even more wrong? 

Twenty minutes pass by and there’s a honk on the other side of the street. “Kiyoomi!” Iwaizumi yells from the car. “It’s about to start raining again, come on!” He gestures with his hand and Kiyoomi runs over to the car. 

He shuts the door, sitting on the passenger's seat and stares down at his own hands. “Hey, I’m sorry I made you come all the way here,” 

“You’re fine, anything for Tooru’s friends,” he smiles a little and starts driving again. 

A couple of minutes go by in complete silence when Iwaizumi speaks again. “So, wanna tell me what happened?” 

“It’s kinda fucked up,” Kiyoomi chuckles. 

Iwaizumi hums and nods, turning right. “It’s alright if you don’t wanna tell me,” 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Iwa?” 

He stops at a red light, staring into nothing. There’s a fading smile on his lips, something Kiyoomi almost never saw. “I do,” 

“Why?” He asks almost immediately. 

“Why not?” Iwaizumi chuckles. “There’s one for each of us; you meet other people along the way but… in the end they’re there,” 

Kiyoomi nods, silently. “So is…”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathes out. “He is,” he smiles again and Kiyoomi feels his whole body warm up. 

They get to Iwaizumi’s home right after and the light of the living room is on. “Fuck,” Iwaizumi hisses. “He woke up,” 

He exits the car quickly running inside, covering his head from the pouring rain. He unlocks the door and steps in, quietly followed by Kiyoomi. 

“Hi, baby,” Iwaizumi uses the softest tone ever, walking over to Tooru who’s laying on the couch curled up inside a blanket. 

“Where were you?” He’s half asleep. 

“Kiyoomi had an emergency and I had to go pick him up,” he explains, running a hand through Oikawa’s hair. 

“Kiyoomi is here?” Iwaizumi hums. “Hi, Kiyoomi,” 

“Hi,” he whispers softly. 

“Let’s get you back to bed, hmm?” Iwaizumi whispers while laying a small kiss on his messy hair. 

Oikawa nods and chuckles when he gets lifted up and placed on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Night, Kiyo,” he yawns and Kiyoomi chuckles. 

“Night,” Kiyoomi waves. 

“Ah, Kiyoomi,” Iwaizumi turns around with Oikawa over his shoulders. “You can take the guest room, the blankets are in the closet,” he says. “And help yourself with whatever you want,” 

Kiyoomi nods, opening the door when he hears Iwaizumi’s door close. He sighs, walking to the pre-made bed and sitting by the end. 

He looks down at himself and remembers he doesn’t have any spare clothes with him. He rummages through the drawers trying to find any trace of spare clothes he had left there before and, thankfully, finds a black, oversized shirt. 

He swallows thickly when he sees the print on the back and finds that that’s not his shirt, it’s Atsumu’s. He borrowed it once when he spilled coffee on his sweater right after Atsumu kissed him for the second time that afternoon. He sighs at both the memory and the heavy feeling on his chest. 

He strips out of his now dried clothes slowly: his shorts fall onto the floor, he takes off his shirt softly and throws it over a chair in the corner of the room. He grabs the black tee and holds it between shaky fingers. He breathes in before he tries to put it on, getting it close to his nose and inhaling, hoping it won’t smell like Atsumu still. 

There’s a faint scent of his cologne and his apartment mixing together. Kiyoomi inhales deeply and his whole body shivers, eyes filling up with tears. 

He breathes out through his nose and puts the shirt on, being careful with it. As if one weird move would tear it down. 

The fabric falls soft against his body. He smiles and tears leave his eyes at the same time, silently sobbing into his hands. He goes for his phone, unlocking it and opening the calling app, typing in Atsumu’s name. 

He stares at it and the dumb little kaomoji he put right next to it. 

Kiyoomi places his phone down and crawls under the covers, forcing himself to sleep before doing something he regrets. 

He has a dream. 

Same as the ones he’s used to having. Except this time it’s different: the sky is gray and it rains. There’s someone by the end of the street, he’s facing the other way. Kiyoomi walks, trying to get the hood of his sweater. He turns to him and finds Atsumu’s bright eyes. A little smile adorning his pretty face. 

“Atsumu,” he can talk now. 

Atsumu chuckles, turning away from him and walking. 

Kiyoomi walks behind him until they both start running, Kiyoomi always behind Atsumu, trying to get to him and talk. “Atsumu, please!” Kiyoomi stops and his hands are on his knees. He’s panting, gasping for air. 

He wakes up right after that; he’s laying on a bed that’s not his, with a shirt that isn’t his. He feels like a stranger in his own skin. 

He slides off the bed, taking the shorts that are cramped in the corner of the room.

He checks his phone and finds no messages and no calls. He’s also extremely late for his class but a day off won’t hurt. 

He opens the door and peeks his head out: the apartment is quiet and it feels empty. 

“Morning,” Oikawa calls from the kitchen. 

“Ah, hi,” Kiyoomi steps out of the room, walking to where Oikawa is. 

“Coffee?” He’s pretty sick of it.

“No, I’m okay,” he jumps on the counter and wiggles his legs. 

“So, do you wanna tell me the reason why my husband had to pick you up last night?” 

“Uh, he’s not your husband?” 

“Just answer the damn question, smart ass,” Kiyoomi smiles when Oikawa smacks his arm. 

“Um, remember Atsumu?” He scratches the back of his neck. 

“How could I forget?” Oikawa smiles. “Did something finally happen between you guys?” He sips on his coffee. 

“Uh, no, actually,” Kiyoomi whispers. “I did something bad,” 

He tries to explain the whole thing: from their first kiss to their week together kissing. The book and the dreams, the soulmate things and the café. 

Oikawa sighs. “I already knew about the café,” he whispers. 

“You did?” Kiyoomi’s heart beats faster. 

“I… yeah,” he laughs. “That’s where I met Iwaizumi,” his gaze softens and his eyes shine, brown pools glistening. 

“What?” Kiyoomi raises his voice and Oikawa laughs again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because I know how you are,” he shrugs. “You would’ve freaked out and cut Atsumu out of it,” 

Kiyoomi falls silent, he’s right. And he hates that he’s right. 

“But honestly, Atsumu has been so nice to you, you should give it a shot,” Oikawa says. “Unless you really don’t want to,” he shrugs again. “But I know you don’t kiss people just for kissing,” 

And that’s true. 

He hasn’t kissed anyone if he didn’t feel the bare minimum for them.

It has taken him too long to accept his feelings for him and maybe it is too late. 

“It’s on you,” Oikawa says before walking to the living room. 

////

He slumps into his dorm room around six in the afternoon after someone lets him into the building and he asks over at the front desk for his room to be opened for him. 

He stays away from coffee the whole day; he boils some water and drops a tea bag into his favorite mug. 

He looks around for his laptop and his notebook, which is in his bag. He will study tonight, no matter what. 

He lays on his bed for a minute, while he waits for his water to boil. He scrolls around social media and his stomach turns when he sees Atsumu’s pictures on Instagram’s stories. 

He clicks on it and it’s just a picture of two bowls of instant ramen. He can see another hand with a watch and a tattoo over the arm. Kiyoomi wonders if it is another guy, maybe a friend. 

His doubts and questions are dissipated by the little tag by the end of the screen. 

0SAMUM1YA. 

Atsumu’s brother. 

He clicks on the tag and finds a public account with a fair amount of followers. He scrolls and wow, the guy is pretty. 

Not prettier than Atsumu, he thinks. 

He has brown hair and he smiles while thinking of Atsumu with his natural hair. He has piercings all over his ears and tattoos on both arms. 

Kiyoomi can hear the electric kettle flick off while his eyes get heavier. 

Heavier until his conscience is lost and he’s sound asleep. 

He feels tired, so, so tired. He starts dreaming and the first thing he sees is Atsumu. 

////

It’s been three weeks. 

Three weeks of doing nothing but walking to class, drinking coffee to go, working on assignments and thinking about Atsumu. 

This time is no different: he’s laying on his bed, scrolling through his apps before his alarm goes off. He whines and gets up, his hair a complete mess from the back. 

He should shower. 

He takes his bag, the one that has been crumbled up in the corner of his room for around two or three weeks and looks for his notebook. 

He shuffles all the shit that he has inside before he hears a loose sheet of paper. He never has loose sheets in his bags. 

He looks for it again and pulls out a folded piece of paper; thicker than normal paper and longer. 

His face contorts to a confused grimace when he stares at it. He unfolds it and his breathing stops. 

It’s him on a piece of paper. It's a drawing of him and it is signed at the end by someone that has been on his mind for too long. 

“Kiyoomi. -Atsumu :p” God, he could cry. Or maybe he is crying already, he doesn’t even know. He’s too focused on the drawing between his fingers. 

His eyes are big and green. And he made him way too pretty. A lot prettier than he is. 

He turns the sheet to put it away but finds a small note. A handwritten note. 

“Dear Kiyoomi. 

I really don’t know how to say this, how to bring my words to actually work. It’s sort of… terrifying writing something for someone who writes for a hobby, right? I hope I remembered that right and I’m not mixing people up. 

Though, I could never mix you up with anyone. You’re the only thing on my mind lately and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t want to, actually. But sometimes I fear that you may break my secret and understand my feelings for you. 

Feelings I don’t understand myself. 

You’re probably one of the prettiest coincidences I’ve ever had. One of the prettiest people I’ve ever met. Physically and mentally. 

I’m sorry I don’t have the guts to say it to your face, I too have a weak spot for writing my feelings. 

I like you, Kiyoomi.”

Fuck, shit, god damn it. And every single curse word Kiyoomi knows. 

Atsumu must have put the paper inside when he left the morning after they kissed. 

He knows he’s crying but god, he doesn’t deserve to cry. He doesn’t deserve these beautiful feelings towards him. He deserves misery and nothing else. 

He broke Atsumu’s heart and he should pay for that. He should be begging Atsumu for forgiveness. 

He broke his own heart, too. 

But that doesn’t matter to him. He’s not even thinking about it. 

All because he couldn’t come clean about being in love. That’s right. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is in love. 

His whole world runs around Atsumu and he’s miserable if he’s never around. His eyes, his hands, his voice, his lips. Him. 

Everything about him: the way he talks about art and how he would call him at one in the morning to ask details about certain buildings only to hear Atsumu’s voice until he fell asleep. The way Atsumu’s eyes roamed around Kiyoomi’s face, stopped on his lips and went back to his eyes only for him to blush to a dark red and look away. His lips and how careful he was when kissing him. 

How his hands moved from his back to his waist in a kiss or how he whispered things over their lips before smiling and kissing him again. 

Tears are spilling down his face and a quiet sob leaves his throat. He grabs his phone and dials Atsumu’s number, waiting for him to pick up. 

His heart beats fast and heavy against his chest; two beeps and still no answer. He will answer, Kiyoomi knows. 

He doesn’t answer. 

He doesn’t pick up and Kiyoomi stands up, grabbing a jacket and his card key. He slides some shoes on and leaves his dorm. 

What the hell is he doing right outside Atsumu’s apartment? He doesn’t know. 

He paces back and forth right outside the apartment, he gets close to the door but not daring to knock. He raises his fist, gathering the courage to knock when the door opens. 

His whole face falls when Osamu opens the door and he stares. 

“Uh,” Kiyoomi says, clearing his throat. “Is…?” 

“Yeah, you gotta go,” Osamu says, closing the door behind him. 

“Huh?” Kiyoomi says. “Why?” 

“Aren’t you ‘Omi-kun’?” Osamu asks. 

They’re face to face in the hallway and Kiyoomi wonders how a person can look so much like someone but be so different at the same time. 

Kiyoomi nods, looking away from his gray eyes. 

“You gotta go, Omi-kun,” he repeats. 

“Can you,” he clears his throat again. “Um, not call me that?” 

“Tsumu did,” 

“Exactly,” he nods. “He’s the only one who calls me that,” 

His mouth goes round, not making any noise. “So, Kiyoomi?” He nods. “I still think you shouldn’t be here,” he shrugs, grabbing the doorknob. 

“Please, I just want to speak to him,” he says. 

“I don’t live here, Kiyoomi. Do you know what it takes for me to come from Osaka to Tokyo?” He shakes his head. “For my brother to need me, to need someone who can understand him,” he explains. “He told me everything and it’s my duty to not like you after you’ve hurt my brother,” 

“That makes no sense,” Kiyoomi replies, with no emotion in his voice. 

“It… just leave,” he runs a hand through his unstyled hair and Kiyoomi huffs out a laugh. 

“I need to talk to him,” Osamu shakes his head. 

“Go on now, Kiyoomi,” he gestures down the hallway and Kiyoomi shakes his head back. “God, you can’t speak to him, yeah?” 

“Samu, why are ya screaming so… much?” Atsumu stares from the door. 

Kiyoomi looks at him and Osamu groans. 

“Omi-kun?” It’s like he breathes again. It’s like all of his problems just resolved with that stupid nickname. 

“Atsumu,” he swallows thickly and Atsumu looks away when Kiyoomi gives him a little smile. “Hi,”

“I don’t think you should be here,” Atsumu says, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Just a minute,” Kiyoomi’s voice is desperate. 

Osamu huffs a breath and turns away from them, going inside the apartment without locking the door. 

“Omi-kun, please,” Atsumu’s eyes look red, sad. He turns away from him to get back into his apartment. 

“I saw the note,” he says. “The drawing and the note,” Atsumu’s eyes go wide. “It can’t be too late, Atsumu, please,” 

“I’m sorry, Omi-kun,” he says. “I think it is.” He closes the door and Kiyoomi just stands there, hands fisted. 

Kiyoomi raises a hand and knocks. “Atsumu,” 

He doesn’t open the door. “Kiyoomi,” it hurts. “Please go home,” he sniffs. 

“Atsumu, I…” he has to do it. “I’m sorry, Atsumu.” He places his forehead on the door. “I like you, too. In case you still like me,” he whispers. “I like you so much, Atsumu.” 

I think I’m in love with you, Atsumu. 

I love your eyes, Atsumu. 

I love your voice, Atsumu. 

I don’t ever want to see you crying again, Atsumu. 

I love you.

“Atsumu?” 

His name is a prayer, he can’t stop saying it. He doesn’t want to stop. 

“Go, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu sounds tired, weak. “I can’t do this, not like this,” 

“Atsumu,” 

“ Please ,” and finally, Kiyoomi gives in. 

He turns away from the door and starts walking away. 

He turns back before taking the elevator, hoping that Atsumu will come to him. 

He stands outside for a couple of minutes before he starts to walk back to his dorm; the night is cold, not too cold but it’s cold still. He looks around and finds himself surrounded by couples. 

This has to be a joke, seriously. 

He huffs a laugh, walking faster by the second. Rain keeps hitting the concrete, echoing in his ear.

The coffee house appears right in front of him and maybe, just maybe, is his mind playing him a trick but it looks… sadder. Lonely, empty and dark. 

It’s closed for the night and there’s a little paper on the glass doors. 

“Come back tomorrow!” it says.

Great. Tomorrow it’ll all be the same. He’ll still be sad, lonely and with no Atsumu beside him. Because he tried, he fucking tried and Atsumu closed the door in his face and talked to him through it only to tell him to go away. 

Fuck trying. 

He slumps into his dorm, walking straight into his shower and turning the handle so hot water burns his skin. He flinches at the temperature but he thinks he deserves it; he deserves every single drop of pain and loneliness he’s going through right now. 

His eyes are itchy and filled with tears that mix with the water that sprays over his body. He shakes though the long crying session he has, looking up and praying to god-knows-what that he feels better soon. That he has a reason to wake up tomorrow. 

That his heart heals. 

That Atsumu forgives him. 

Twenty minutes later he’s laying in bed, passing pages of a book he’s supposed to be reading but really he’s just spacing out and picking at the skin on his top lip. He hisses through the pain of pulling a small patch of dry skin when his phone rings. 

He springs out of his bed and hopes that his screen shows Atsumu’s face. It’s his mom. 

“Hey, mom,” he smiles weakly at her. She’s wearing her reading glasses and her hair is tied up. 

“Hi, love,” she says, looking away from the camera. “Went out tonight,” she says, shily. “Had a little date,” 

Kiyoomi’s attention goes fully to his mother. “With who?” 

“Oh, just a guy from work,” 

“You’re back at work?” He says, sighing. “Are you okay to be back there?” 

“Yes, yes, the doctor’s said it was fine,” she smiles. “Plus I’m exclusively doing computer work,” 

“Mom,” 

“Kiyoomi, I own the company. I can do it,” 

“You can’t do things the way you used to,” he says, harshly. “You’re not smoking again, right?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “My tests came out just fine,” 

“Still, mom,” he sighs. “It’s not like it was a cold, it was fucking cancer,” 

“Kiyoomi!” She raises her voice. “Do not speak to me like that,” 

“Sorry,” he puts his head in his hands. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he sighs, voice breaking at the last syllable. “I don’t mean it, seriously. There’s just a lot on my mind right now,” 

“Is it uni related?” Her voice is soft against Kiyoomi’s ears. “Or did something else happen?” 

“It’s…”he breathes in audibly. “It’s a boy,” 

“Oh,” she says quietly. “Do you like this boy?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, sniffling. “But I screwed up so he doesn’t want to see me anymore,” 

“What happened?” She says and Kiyoomi wishes she was there to hold him close. 

“There’s this… thing. We’re soulmates according to some stupid belief from an old lady who owned a café close to my university and my destiny is to be with Atsumu but he liked me first and I didn’t notice and literally ghosted him for too fucking long before realising my feelings for him and going over to his home and fucking tell him everything that I feel only for him to close the door at my face,” he’s crying. 

Tears slip from his eyes and his mother stares in disbelief. 

Soulmates? Destiny? Love? “You spent way too much time with your grandma, Kiyoomi,” she chuckles. “There’s no such thing…” 

“I thought so too,” he interrupts. “It’s him, mom.” 

He sounds convinced. Too convinced. 

His mother swallows and breathes in. “What am I gonna do, mom? I’m ruining everything,”

“We’re not perfect, Kiyoomi. We don’t realize things at the time people want us to. I won’t say that ghosting him wasn’t wrong, it was. But you took your time realizing your feelings and that’s fine too.” 

“I think I always knew.” There’s a confused sound from the other side of the call. “I knew when I looked inside his eyes. I felt safe, cared for.” He says. “But I’m too scared. I’m always so scared of everything, mom.” He sniffles and blinks a few times so the tears escape his eyes. “Ryo hurt me, mom. Big time,” 

“Oh, love,” she sighs. “Don’t you think I know that? I always knew: when you broke up I knew but I waited for you to tell me because I know you, you’re my son,” she smiles and Kiyoomi does too. “But you can’t keep thinking that everyone is going to hurt you,” she explains. “If you like this Atsumu guy that much, fight for him,” his name sends a shiver through his body. 

“What do I do?” 

“I can’t fix your life forever, Kiyoomi,” she laughs. “I have never done it, actually. You always stood for yourself,” and she’s right. Kiyoomi tried to do everything on his own and just ask for help when he actually needed it.

/ ///

Kiyoomi’s eyes are heavy from the lack of sleep. He can see the sun peeking through his window but it gets quickly covered by a huge cloud. He can hear cars down the street and people walking by the hall. 

The day has officially started and he hasn’t slept anything. His eyes hurt from staring at the ceiling too hard, using his phone for hours and working on assignments. 

But most importantly, he spent his night writing letters to Atsumu. Letters that explain everything: from what happened with his ex to how he feels about him. 

The way his eyes make him feel warm with a single look, or how his laugh makes a shitty day better. How he loves to see him drawing and talk about his home and his family. How he loves how much he cares for his friends. How he loves how much he cares for him. 

How he loves that he knows his order by heart and he always pays for him even though Kiyoomi wants to pay some times too. The way he smiles when he thinks Kiyoomi isn’t watching and the way their fingers slip together by accident every time they walk too close. 

His lips against his are the best thing that happened to his life and adding Atsumu to his world just made it so much better. His lips against his own, against his neck, his knuckles. Against him in general just makes him soft and giggly. 

He apologizes a hundred, thousand times before he thinks it’s enough and he still believes it’ll never be enough. 

He may never give that letter, which is incredibly long by the way, to Atsumu. But his feelings are there. There, written on several pieces of paper on his desk. 

His alarm goes off and he groans. “Shut up, shut up,” he taps the screen of his close-to-dying phone and rubs his eyes. 

He doesn’t wanna go to class today because: a) he is extremely sad and could break down crying at any moment and b) he could snap at anyone during the day for the bare minimum. 

He texts Oikawa letting him know he won’t be at class today and throws the covers over his head. He closes his eyes hard and forces himself to sleep. 

He hopes, wishes and prays to see Atsumu in his dreams. 

But he doesn’t. 

He’s there, in the middle of the road he always is but this time he’s alone. There are no honey pools or broad shoulders to welcome him. There are no sweet smiles and soothing voices to keep him okay in his dream. 

It’s blank after a while, nothing, no one. Just Kiyoomi giving away to exhaustion. 

He wakes up to a knock on his door. 

More like a banging. 

Kiyoomi cracks an eye open and wipes the drool next to his mouth. “Yes?” He tries one time and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yes?” He gets up from his bed and walks to the front door. 

He opens the door just a little and his blood pressure has a fucking ride. He feels dizzy and his heart is pounding against his chest. “Osamu-san?” He opens the door fully.

“Kiyoomi,” he says. “Have you seen Atsumu?” 

Kiyoomi shakes his head and Osamu curses under his breath. “He said he was coming here,” 

He feels dizzy again. “What?” 

“Here, is he not here?” Kiyoomi shakes his head one more time. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been sleeping here all day, Osamu-san,” Kiyoomi admits and he feels embarrassed. “Are you sure he said he was coming here?” 

“He said something about his place with you and then he took off,” he runs a hand through his hair. 

Kiyoomi looks around and finds people staring. He circles a hand around his wrist and pulls him into his room. 

“Hey!” He closes the door behind Osamu and breathes in. 

“People were staring, I apologize,” he says and Osamu huffs. “Osamu-san,” he clears his throat and waits for Osamu to look at him. “This is going to be incredibly selfish and greedy of me but can I ask for a favor?” 

“Are you serious?” Osamu says.

Kiyoomi turns from him and slides the papers inside an envelope. “Can you give this to your brother?” He extends the open envelope and Osamu stares. “When you find him, I mean,” 

Osamu stares at the envelope and at Kiyoomi for a minute or two before he speaks. “Aren’t you gonna lick it so you can close it?” 

“No, that’s gross.” He scrunches his nose and Osamu chuckles. 

“You’re just like Atsumu said you were,” he smiles and something inside Kiyoomi breaks even more. 

Atsumu talked about him to his brother before everything went down. “I… guess I am,” Kiyoomi gives a little smile. 

“I don’t hate you by the way,” Osamu says. “I just have to stand for ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi laughs, nodding. 

“I understand,” he bites his lips, trying to stop the trembling feeling. “I never intended to hurt him, y’know?” 

“Yeah, well.” He nods. 

Kiyoomi understands this is the end of the talk, walking over to his door and opening it for Osamu to leave. “Atsumu,” he starts again once he’s outside. “He’s been heartbroken too and I don’t know how but he’s not fucking scared of fallin in love,” 

Falling in love. 

“He’s pretty much in love with you,” he says and Kiyoomi breathes in, tears pooling at the end of his eyes. 

Kiyoomi’s voice trembles. “I’m in love with him too,” he admits and he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

Osamu smirks and looks away before he starts to walk away. 

Kiyoomi shuts his door and drags himself to the bathroom, opening the hot water at full blast. 

////

“So,” Oikawa says, sitting next to Kiyoomi. “You’re okay?” 

“I feel like I’m being punched into the ground every two seconds but yeah, I’m so okay,” Kiyoomi explains and Oikawa laughs, and so does Akaashi. “I’m glad that my suffering amuses you,” 

“Oh, come on!” Akaashi giggles, reaching for his hand. “You know we mean no harm. He fixes his glasses and Kiyoomi sighs. 

“Am I an idiot for writing that? Osamu-san probably threw it away,” he slumps onto the table. 

“I think it’s cute that you wrote a letter, no one writes letters anymore,” Akaashi says. 

Kiyoomi turns to the window and stares at the dark clouds above them. “It’s gonna rain so much,” he whispers. 

They’re at the Café and Kiyoomi feels like he’s betraying Atsumu by sitting with them here. Not in their spot but at a different table. Oikawa ordered the sweetest drink and Akaashi got a plain Americano with no sugar. 

Freaks. 

He’s sipping a hot chocolate that has gone warm from how little he’s drinking. 

A thunder booms. Kiyoomi looks outside and it’s started to rain. 

“Fuck,” he turns back to Akaashi and Oikawa. “Kuroo was supposed to be here a while ago, he’s gonna get all wet.” 

“Aw,” Oikawa reaches for Akaashi’s hand. “Are you missing your silly boyfriend, Keiji?” 

He blushes to a dark red tone and Oikawa laughs and apologizes. Kiyoomi smiles, looking at his own hands. He zones out for a while before he gets dragged back to reality by the bell at the door and Akaashi moving. 

“Tetsuro!” He wraps his arms around his shoulders. 

Kuroo laughs and tells him not to hold him too close because he’s gonna get wet and Akaashi mumbles something close to “I don’t care.” 

Kiyoomi smiles and looks away at the exact moment that their lips meet. Oikawa makes a gagging sound and Akaashi gives him the finger without breaking his kiss. 

“Hey, Kiyoomi,” Kuroo says while he sits down and Akaashi runs to get a towel from the counter. 

“Hello,” Kiyoomi sips on his drink and makes a weird face from how cold it is. “How are you?”

“Uh, I could do better,” he says, gesturing to his hair. “But I’m pretty good.” 

Akaashi drops the towel over his head and Kiyoomi takes it as a sign to stop talking. 

The bell dings again and Oikawa makes a high-pitched sound. “Iwa-chan!” He wraps himself around him and Iwaizumi almost loses balance. 

“Hi baby,” Iwaizumi kisses his hair, and Oikawa giggles. “You ready?” Oikawa nods, dropping a kiss to his lips. 

“Are you leaving?” Kiyoomi asks and Oikawa finally climbs down Iwaizumi. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a date,” Kiyoomi’s heart softens. 

“Actually,” Akaashi starts. “We’re gonna take off too,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Oh, that’s fine.” Kiyoomi says. “Can I keep your notes, Keiji?” Akaashi nods and gives him a thumbs up. 

“We can give you a ride so you guys don’t have to walk in the rain,” Iwaizumi offers and Akaashi takes it immediately. Kuroo smiles and slides his fingers through his boyfriend’s hand, squeezing lightly and dropping a kiss on his hair. 

“We’ll see you around, Kiyo!” Oikawa waves at him from the door and blows him a kiss. 

Kiyoomi gestures as if he was catching it and throwing it behind him. 

“Rude!” He says before the door closes. 

The café falls silent except for the rain hitting the glass windows and the streets. Kiyoomi sighs, running a hand through his hair when a hand places a cup of hot, steamy coffee next to his arm. 

“For you,” Kiyoomi turns and finds Iizuna smiling at him. “I’m supposing no Atsumu yet?” Kiyoomi shakes his head. “He’ll come around,” 

“I don’t think he will,” Kiyoomi whispers, drinking from the cup. 

“Have a little faith,” Kiyoomi would like to slam Iizuna right into the fucking table. 

Faith? Seriously? 

“I’ve been having faith, and I pray and I hope but nothing works!” Kiyoomi says, raising his voice. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep thinking that red threads exist, that soulmates exist, that love exists when all this shit is happening around me,” he breathes out and Iizuna looks at him with pity. “I need to take some air,” Kiyoomi gets up from his chair and walks over to the door. 

“It’s raining,” Iizuna says but Kiyoomi is already swinging the door open and stepping outside. 

It’s raining alright. In a matter of seconds Kiyoomi is completely soaked but he doesn’t really care. He looks up, eyes closed and breathing in slowly as water paints his face wet.

He can hear steps getting closer, like someone was running. “Someone trying to cover themselves from the rain,” he thinks. 

He’s looking down to his hands when he hears it. 

“ Omi-kun !” 

And it feels unreal. He feels like he’s dreaming, like someone’s playing a joke on him. 

That maybe someone heard that nickname and is yelling at him just to play with his fragile heart. 

But when he turns to see who’s calling, he freezes. 

Atsumu runs to him fast, not caring about the rain and how hard it pours. His hair is wet and it covers his eyes, his glasses are filled with droplets and his steps are heavy against the street. 

“Atsumu!” His voice sounds different, like it was torn from the bottom of his chest. 

He moves by instinct and Atsumu runs straight to his arms, legs wrapping around his waist and hands gripping the back of his neck.

Kiyoomi puts both hands on the sides of Atsumu’s body and stares into his eyes for a second before Atsumu kisses him. 

And, god. He feels like he got back to life. 

Atsumu places a careful hand on his neck and the other on his face, trying to get him as close as he physically can. Kiyoomi kisses him back, earning a soft whine from him. 

“At-” Kiyoomi says into the kiss before breaking completely. “Atsumu,” he tries again. 

His big, golden eyes are staring at him. They look alive, shiny and happy. “I love you, Atsumu,” 

“I love you too, Omi-kun!” And as if it was possible, Atsumu beams even more. 

His eyes curl up and his smile gets bigger while he places several kisses on Kiyoomi’s face and lips. “I love ya, Omi. Love ya so much,” 

“I’m so sorry, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi whispers against his lips. “I was scared and I… am really sorry,” 

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu calls out, making Kiyoomi turn up to look him in the eye. 

Has he always been this beautiful? 

“I promise you, Omi,” he whispers against his lips too. “I promise you, falling for me won’t be a mistake.” 

“I would never think of you as a mistake, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi drops a gentle kiss to his lips and wonders if Atsumu is crying at his words or if it's just the rain dripping from his hair. 

Atsumu climbs down from him and smiles, holding him by the waist. “I’m in love with you,” he says. “I’ve been for a while.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi repeats. “I was wrong,” 

“Maybe we both were, Omi,” he shrugs. “I never told you what I felt right upfront,” he smiles. 

“But I hurt you, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi says, sliding his fingers through Atsumu’s. 

“But you’re here, I’m here. It’s fine. You love me, I love you.” Atsumu smiles again and Kiyoomi’s heart melts. 

“I…” Kiyoomi starts. “I never really understood what love was really like,” he explains. “ Romantically , I mean.” Atsumu nods. “I think I felt it for the first time when I looked into your eyes,” 

“Who knew ya had your ways with words, Omi-kun,” Atsumu kisses the corner of his lips. 

Kiyoomi’s lips twitch: upwards first and then downwards. His lips tremble and he has to bite hard to prevent a sob from coming out. Atsumu looks at him concerned, placing both hands on his face and forcing him to look into his eyes. 

“What is it?” Kiyoomi shakes his head, sniffing. “Hey, what’s wro—,” Atsumu’s eyes widen when he feels soft, wet lips crash into him. 

They move slowly against each other as if time had stopped and they were the only people who exist in the whole world. Kiyoomi opens his mouth and bites Atsumu’s bottom lip, sliding it deliciously against his teeth. 

He drops a couple of short, chaste kisses on his lips before he smiles again. 

“Let’s go,” he whispers. “I got hot chocolate at my place,” Atsumu giggles and nods, holding his hand. 

They start walking to Kiyoomi’s apartment, hands tangled together and shy, silly smiles on their lips. Kiyoomi looks to the side, only to find Iizuna smiling at both of them and gesturing to his hand. 

Kiyoomi looks down at their fingers and his eyes widen at the sight of a red thread joining him and Atsum’s hands together. He swallows thickly and sighs, a little smile creeping up his lips. 

“Ya okay, Omi-kun?” Atsumu says, pulling at his finger. 

The thread vanishes and Kiyoomi wishes he had taken a picture of it so he could remember that sight for his whole life. 

He turns to see Atsumu’s blonde, wet hair and his face with the prettiest smile he has ever seen. He doesn't need a picture, he’s sure he will remember this moment forever. 

“I’m okay,” he nods, eyes softening. “Couldn’t be better,” he brings Atsumu’s hand to his lips and drops three kisses.

They walk silently under the rain, enjoying each other’s company. 

Do you know the meaning of Musubi?

This word has profound meaning.

It means ‘tying thread’ and it also means ‘connecting people'.

And the flow of time is also Musubi.

The threads we make in this life represent the flow of time itself. 

They converge and take shape, they twist, tangle, sometimes unravel, break, then connect again.

Musubi—knotting. 

That’s time.