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Coach Foster sighed. “Where the fuck is our little troublemaker?”
The stadium was buzzing with excitement. The Jackals had won their fifth game in a row and today they won against the Rocket, third in the league just behind the Adlers. The games had been complicated and they won 3-1. Foster was tired and he knew his players too. He could hear the journalists and fans screaming and snapping pictures of them.
Foster knew it was part of the job but at this right moment, he wanted nothing more than to grab his boys and take them home.
He didn’t care if some were married or had kids, in his mind and heart, his players were boys, his boys.
Coach Foster looked around the court and couldn’t see Atsumu nor Sakusa which didn’t calm his nerves.
Barnes rubbed his shoulder. Foster made the mental note to call the therapist as soon as he could. “Your favorite is talking to a journalist.”
Foster frowned as Bokuto gave Hinata an energic cereal bar with too much sugar for Foster's liking. “Atsumu isn’t my favorite. I don’t have a favorite and who the fuck thought it was a good idea to leave Atsumu alone with a journalist?”
Meian shrugged. “Kiyoomi is with him, nothing is going to happen Coach.”
Foster bit his bottom lips and rested his fists on his hips still looking after his two missing boys. He had a bad feeling.
He very bad feelings.
The last time he had a bad feeling Inunaki broke his toe and Thomas had a sprained ankle. And before that Atsumu had the flu and Kiyoomi nearly burned down the MBSY kitchen complex trying to make soupe. And the time before that Hinata and Bokuto had thought running up and down the stairs multiple times had been a good idea.
In definitive, Foster couldn’t leave his boys alone. He couldn’t. The only boy he could leave more than an hour alone was Meian and sometimes Foster felt without his captain, he would have lost his mind and gotten grey hair way sooner.
“Go to the locker room, shower, and to the bus. I’m going to find our two lost jackals and we’re going home.”
The boys nodded and walked out of the court as Foster started searching for his missing boys.
— — —
Atsumu laughed and threw his arm around Omi’s shoulder. “Omi yer so funny.”
Omi adjusted his mask but even with it he could see his disgust and Astumu took off his arm. “You stink Miya.”
Atsumu snorted. “Ya stink ta Mister Perfect.”
“So Mister Miya-”
Atsumu laughed, “Call me Atsumu, Mister Miya is my scrub of a brother Samu which by the way go eat the new onigiri made with tuna it’s so fuckin’ good!”
“Right, Astumu” The journalist, Kena or maybe Keita blushed, “you did an amazing game today.”
“Thankya but I’m not the only one,” Atsumu gently brushed his shoulder against Omi’s shoulder, he knew that was the minimum of contact the spiker could tolerate right now, “Omi was on fire just like Bokkun and Shouyo. Cap was so cool too and Inunaki looked like he was everywhere at the time.”
Omi nodded. “ You were decent.”
Atsumu burst into laughter. He knew people could think Omi had been mean but he knew his spikers like his hands. Omi was smiling and during the game, he had even complimented him. And Omi’s compliment meant the world for Atsumu.
But unlike him, the journalist didn’t understand. “That’s mean Mister Sakusa, Atsumu had given us a great game. You should be nicer to your teammates.”
Sakusa frowned as Atsumu showed his hands. “Thankya but it’s fine, I know Omi and his weird compliments.” he chuckled because he indeed knew. Omi had difficulties expressing his emotions, he knew that, and the whole team knew that but it was okay. When Omi told him with a smirk he played descent, he actually meant he played great.
Omi buried his hands in his jacket and Atsumu knew the signal. Omi like Inunaki hated interviews and made them uncomfortable so the team created a signal. If they put their hands in their jacket's pockets it meant they needed a rescue. The whole team started using it for either too-close fans or mean reporters.
Thankfully before Atsumu could say some bullshit lie, Coach Foster appeared.
“Boys, we’re leaving.”
Omi nodded and immediately went closer to the coach. Atsumu waved at the journalist, “It was nice, have a nice day.” he turned on his heels and was ready to follow the coach and Omi when the journalist stopped him.
“Wait, please Atsumu,” The journalist put his hand on Atsumu’s shoulder and grabbed his jersey. “I would like to talk to you more.”
In the corner of his eye, Atsumu saw Omi tensing and Coach Foster frowning. The coach crossed his arms. “We’re leaving, if you want a longer interview with Atsumu please call our PR.”
“But,” The journalist looked back at Atsumu with a smile, “I thought maybe we could talk together in a less strict framework.”
Atsumu frowned and he felt Coach Foster walking closer to him. “Sorry?”
“I mean,” the journalist licked his lips and blushed, “maybe we could go drink a beer together and talk and maybe later spend the night together.”
Atsmu felt a buck of ice water dropping on him. “Right.” He saw Omi looking around them perhaps trying to get Meian or Barnes for help. Atsumu slowly and gently pushed the journalist’s hand. “It could be nice-”
“Kena,” the journalist smiled, “My name is Kena, I already told you but you must be tired Atsumu.”
Atsumu nodded,” Right, thankya, so Kena, I’m sorry, I’m a pro athlete I don’t drink alcohol even less during a season-”
“It’s okay, we could pick everything you want, we could even go to my place if you wish for intimacy.”
“It’s kind of ya but my heart is already taken I’m sorry but I’m sure yer a great guy and someone would be lucky to have ya.”
At the same time, Coach Foster grabbed Atsumu’s arm. “Sorry, we have to go.”
Atsumu waved at the journalist and when they entered the tunnel toward the locker room Atsumu let out a breath. “Fuckin’ shit that was scary.”
Omi nodded as Coach Foster spoke. “You two remember the journal he works for?”
Atsumu shook his head while Omi nodded again. “He writes for Sporta, a popular magazine in Tokyo.”
Coach Foster growled, still furious at the journalist’s attitude. “I’ll pass a couple of calls at the magazine then and you two stay close to me next time.”
Both players nodded and Atsumu smiled. “Yeah thankya fer the savin’ Coach!”
Coach Foster was about to answer when Omi cut him. “Of course he rescued us, he couldn’t let his favorite be harassed.”
“I don’t have a favorite.” sighed Coach Foster tired of the unending argument. Why couldn’t his players believe him?
Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and Meian is clearly the favorite. Or Inu-san. Oh, Bokkun is a potential candidate too.”
The two players continued bickering about the supposed favorite unaware of the journalist watching them walking away.
— — —
When Kena came home he was pissed. He had gotten a call from the journal and his editor saying he was summoned for unprofessional behavior.
How dare Atsumu do this?
Kena had been nothing but nice to him and even defended him when Sakusa talked about him.
Atsumu was really just an arrogant idiot. His colleague had warned him but Kena didn’t listen, how a man who takes time with kids to teach them some volleyball trick or sign autograph smiling could be a bad person.
How dare Atsumu turn him down?
What, Kena wasn’t pretty enough? He knew he didn’t look like a model but fucking shit he didn’t deserve that.
Atsumu needed a lesson. He needed to learn to be polite and kind.
What angrier the most Kena was the look the pretty blonde sent toward Sakusa. The touch and how Atsumu smiled more toward his teammates than toward him.
Everyone knew Sakusa and Atsumu had a weird competitive relationship but Atsumu looked at Sakusa like he had hung the moon and stars in the sky and it pissed Kena off.
He opened his laptop and wrote his article about the game. Kena finished the article by explaining who his favorite and least favorite player of the game was.
Kena posted his article without any validation, boosted it on Twitter, and asked people to explain why like him they disliked Miya. He smiled seeing the world burn wondering when Atsumu would come back to him crawling, begging for forgiveness.
And if Kena can’t have Atsumu. Then no one will.
— — —
Atsumu woke up the next morning hearing his phone vibrate on his nightstand. He cracked an eye and saw his brother’s name. He frowned and sighed. Maybe Samu needed help to open the shop. His employee had been sick for the entire week and Suna had helped him to open the shop but maybe his brother-in-law was busy. Atsumu unlocked his phone and frowned deeper at his brother’s text.
“Call me and do not open twitter.”
Weird.
Atsumu is half awake, it’s six a.m. but he calls his brother.
“Everythin’ alright? Need help Samu?”
“Dontcha open twitter.”
“Hah?”
“Doncha open twitter. Promise me.”
Atsumu can feel Osamu’s distress. His brother is panicking and doesn’t understand why. Why shouldn’t Atsumu open twitter? What happens?
“What happen’ ta ya? Nightmare?”
Since their dad passed away when they were six, Osamu had been a victim of nightmares and night terror. More than once he had woken up Atsumu in the middle of the night crying not that Atsumu minded, he would always be there for his twin.
“Tsumu. Promise me on Ma’s curry. Promise ya dontcha open twitter.”
Ma’s curry is something important in the Miya family. The recipe is transmitted from generation to generation but Ma’s curry is special. It’s magical and incomparable. He hadn’t tasted something better than his Ma’s curry anywhere in the world and Atsumu traveled a lot.
Promises on Ma’s curry were important. And if Samu asks to promise on it then it’s important. The last time Osamu asked to promise on Ma’s curry was when he announced he dropped volleyball. So Atsumu promised.
“Fine scrub.”
“Tell me ya promise me.”
“I promise ya on Ma’s curry I won’t open twitter.”
“Thank ya tsumu. I’ll come at yers after I close the restaurant.”
Atsumu yawned. “Okay, whatever scrub.”
Osamu hangs up after wishing him a good day which is even more weird. They don’t wish each other a good day.
It’s six am, thirty minutes before his alarm rings and Atsumu knows he won’t go back to sleep. He leaves his bed rubbing his hair and scratches his back. He yawned and in the kitchen, he started preparing his breakfast.
Atsumu looks at his phone and frowns again. He sees various texts from his teammates both actual and past.
Meian promised him he’s not alone and called the coach. Thomas tells him not to listen to them. Barnes says they’re idiots and don’t know shit. Inunaki simply tells him they’re assholes.
Atsumu keeps reading his texts. He frowned and sat at his kitchen counter taking a sip of his hot coffee. If Omi was there, Atsumu knows he would be judged right now. He always took his coffee with two spoons of cream and sugar much to Omi’s horror. Omi drank his coffee black and often joked it was black like his soul.
He doesn’t know who is they his teammates kept referring to. Why are his teammates so weird and concerned? He starts to feel unwell when he sees the others' text.
Kita tells him he’s great and not to forget it and Atsumu might cry. Aran says Atsumu was one of his best under classmate and is proud of him which made him even closer to crying. Omimi tell him he’s a good setter and the best from their generation.
Suna’s text is as much as cryptic as Samu. “Don’t open twitter and you’re a scrub but our scrub. See ya tonight.”
Sometimes Atsumu wonders if his brother-in-law got insane because of his brother’s onigiri test. Maybe he got an indigestion to rice and it changed his brain forever.
He put his phone down and continued to drink his coffee.
Atsumu’s curiosity peaked.
He knows he promised. On Ma’s curry no less.
But why does everyone tell him to stay away from twitter? Did his nude get leaked out? He only did it once when he was seventeen and discovered his body and deleted it immediately after it mortified.
His embarrassing lovesick text about Omi? Probably. If that’s the case, Atsumu would change his identity and move to Brazil before Omi could strangle him. Hinata says it’s nice at that time of the year.
It had been love at first sight for Atsumu. Since he first saw Omi during a training game, he knew that Sakusa Kiyoomi had the love of his life, his future husbands and father of his children, and dogs and cats. He never tried his chance and regretted it when their ways parted after high school. When years later Atsumu saw Omi in the Jackals’s gym during the try-out, he cried with happiness and begged Coach Foster to take him not that Coach needed his advice. Coach would have been crazy not to pick the top three high school ace of the country.
Atsumu glanced at his phone.
Should he do it?
Should he don’t?
Atsumu put down his mug and grabbed his phone. He unlocked his phone and opened the app. He felt his stomach clench. Suddenly he can’t breath, he can’t think.
He can’t fucking stop reading.
@/mbsy1fan: atsumu talks too much, laughs too much, IS too much. The dude is literally too much
@/osamumiyawife : everyday I wake up and cry thinking atsumu continued volleyball instead of Osamu. Why didn’t the better twin become a pro?????
@/atsumuleaveMBSY : maybe if we created a hashtag the asshole would finally understand we don’t want him??? #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
@/sakusawife : his obvious crush on Sakusa is so unprofessional and it obviously makes Sakusa uncomfortable. Why can't the dude let Sakusa alone? He obviously hates him. Miya catches a hint. #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
@/bokutolover: I heard the guy even follows Bokuto and his husband on their dates. The dude is so unlovable he has to force people to tolerate him and waste Bokuto and his husband’s time #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
@/atsumupleaseleave: I heard Bokuto’s husband loves onigiri, maybe he’s just using the guy to have some free
@/hinatagobacktobrazil: LEAVE HINATA ALONE CREEP SERIOUSLY THIS GUY IS SO WEIRD STAY AWAY FROM HIM #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
@/meiankickatsumuoutoftheteam: I’m begging Coach to kick him out. I’m even ready to write to the JVA. Atsumu is a bad player, a bad setter, Kageyama is so fucking more talented, we don’t need him in the national team and don’t need him at the MBSY #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
@/coachfosteristired : I heard Coach even nicknamed Atsumu troublemaker. He clearly hates him and wants him gone
@/osamumiyawife : Osamu my baby I’m so sorry life decided to give you an evil twin you didn’t deserve that. Come and take your rightful place as MBSY setter. #ATSUMULEAVEMBSY
He can’t stop reading. He read the hundredth maybe thousand tweets begging him to leave. Telling him how much his teammates hate him and do not wish to play with him.
Atsumu reads and his head feels fuzzy. He read how much Osamu is unlucky to be his twin. How much his coach should find another setter.
How much his friends don't like him.
How much he made Omi feel uncomfortable. How much his feelings made him uncomfortable.
Atsumu thought he was discreet. He thought no one knew he loved Omi so much that sometimes he couldn’t breath but the whole world seemed to know.
He read people adoring watching his downfall and wished he’s kicked out of the MBSY and the national team. Atsumu cried when Coach Foster called him to congratulate him because he passed the try-out and made it to the team. The Jackals was his dream since he started volleyball. He cried when he was called up to the national team. Proud of himself and of representing his country. His Ma cried too.
But his country hated him and wanted him gone.
Atsumu looked at the time and prepared himself. He needed to go to the gym. He couldn’t be late or Coach Foster would make him run laps.
He didn’t want to walk and took the first bus. He sat at his usual place, at the back but close to the door. Atsumu pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and wrote a list. He wondered if Meian could listen to him after training. Maybe they could talk about it to the coach together. He knew the coach wouldn’t listen to idiot, stupid, troublemaker Atsumu but he would listen to Meian, the brave and smart captain.
Atsumu arrived at the gym fifteen minutes and a plan later. He sees Omi waiting at the gates on his phone.
Atsumu freeze. Is Omi waiting for him to insult him? Is Omi disgusted by his feelings? Fuck what if Omi forbids him to talk to him, or play with him?
It would be just one step closer to his plan but it would kill Atsumu. How is he supposed to play with Omi if he doesn’t want to talk to him?
And if Coach had to choose between Omi and him, he would obviously pick him.
Who in their right mind would pick Atsumu?
Atsumu takes a deep breath and sees Omi looking up and pulling his phone back in his pocket when he sees him.
Even with the distance, he can see Omi’s beautiful eyes and Atsumu only hopes Omi will be kind to him. He arrived quickly to Omi’s level. He hid his shaking hands in his hoodie’s pocket hoping his teammate wouldn’t see it. He opened his mouth to greet but he suddenly froze.
What should he call Omi?
Omi hates that nickname, Atsumu knows it, the teams know it, and the whole world knows it.
Hundreds of people begged him to stop calling him Omi because it clearly made him uncomfortable, so what should he say?
Kiyoomi?
Sakusa?
Atsumu swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to smile. “Mornin’ Sakusa.”
Omi immediately frowned, making Atsumu feel even more insecure. He thought the setter’s last name would be the safest opinion, so why does Omi look even angrier than when Atsumu calls him by the stupid nickname?
“Are you alright Miya?”
Atsumu quickly nodded and bit his lips. “Perfect.”
Omi narrowed his eyes and nodded. Perhaps his eyes weren’t red anymore thanks to the traffic time. Atsumu hoped he didn’t leave any tear marks on the list.
They entered the stadium and walked side by side. Omi glances at him but stays silent. Maybe it was his way to turn him down kindly. He must have seen the tweets, who didn’t?
Omi is just kind and doesn’t want to embarrass him even more.
Atsumu remembers when his first crush, the soccer team captain of his high school, told him he was ashamed that someone like Atsumu liked him in front of the whole team while laughing.
Maybe Omi feels the same way and prefers ignoring him and his feelings to acknowledging them.
Bokuto is exiting the locker room when they arrive. He wanted to smile, scream “Bokkun!” and jump on him but he remembered how much people called him clingy, pathetic, and an idiot.
He remember people saying he was such an ass to waste Bokuto’s precious time with his husband.
Keiji was so kind and never looked bothered every time Bokkun invited him to join them. He even helped Atsumu with his taxes the first year he had to pay them and helped him every time he had to do some administration.
Keiji even read Atsumu’s first MBSY contract before he signed.
But what if they were right? What if Keiji was simply too kind to refuse or he used him to get free onigiri from Osamu?
Atsumu loves spending time with them but he’s an idiot and can’t just see Bokuto would like to spend time with his husband alone and not with him ruining everything. It seems Atsumu can’t do anything except ruin the few good things in his life.
Bokuto see him and smile. “Hi Tsum-tsum!”
Atsumu clenched his fists in his hoodie’s pocket. He is sure he has nail marks now on his palm.
He nodded “Hi, Bokuto.” and entered the locker room without looking back, missing Bokuto sending a distressed look to Omi.
He enters and sees Hinata. He’s about to call him but then he remembers people saying he’s pathetic for calling him “Shoyo-kun” and Hinata is just too kind to ask him to call him anything else seriously how could Atsumu think he was a friend of Hinata? Such an idiot and an asshole. Also, he’s so creepy for saying in high school he will set for him and now Atsumu can’t help but think Shoyo feels obligated to play in MBSY because of him.
Hinata smiled. “Hi Tsumu!”
“Hi, Hinata.” Atsumu bowed and went to his locker the number eleven.
Fuck why did his voice choose to break now? He bent his head and quickly changed. He needed to talk to Meian quickly.
Atsumu left the locker room and felt his teammates’s eyes on him, especially Omi, Bokkun, and Shoyo.
The training was horrible. Everyone with eyes could see something was wrong with him, either with his missing sets or his anormal attitude.
More than once he nearly high-fived Bokkun or Shoyo or Inanuki. More than once he nearly smiled and complimented Omi for his spikes. More than once he nearly burden his teammates with his clingy needy attitude.
During a water break, he goes straight toward Meian ignoring Shouyo, Bokkun, and even Omi’s approach.
“Cap,” He tried to smile. “can we talk after practice?”
Meian nodded while he drank from his water bottle and wiped his mouth. “We can talk now if you want.”
Atsumu felt his teammates’ gaze burn on his back as the small paper in his pocket weighed heavier. “In private please cap.”
“Okay, Tsumu.” Meian smiled and Atsumu hoped we would listen to him.
After training Atsumu followed Meain to a small room while the rest of the team went to the locker room. They were about to enter when someone called him.
“Atsumu.”
He looked back and saw Omi standing in the middle of the court. “Yeah Om-Sakusa?”
Omi flinched. “Can we talk after this? I’ll wait in the locker room.”
Atsumu nodded and entered after Meain.
Meian sat on a bench and tapped next to him. “So what did you want to talk about? And we should be quick before Kiyoomi breaks that door and sends me a death glare for keeping you away from him.”
Atsumu took a deep breath and sat next to Meian. He pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to him without a word.
Meian raised an eyebrow and started reading the note. After a moment of silence, Meian spoke. “What the fuck Atsumu?”
Atsumu clenched his fists. “It’s a list. A list of setters.”
“Yeah I can see that but why are you giving it to me?”
“So we can fin’ someone to replace me. I mean, ya saw what happen’ last night and I thought the team deserved a better setter. So I made a list of setters with pros and cons so ya and coach and picka the best one. Tobio is the best candidate, of course, the only con is that weird promise he has with Shoyo. Oikawa could be good ta I think but I dontcha think he want to come back to Japan. I also saw a young setter, he’s in the V-2 but he’s promising.”
Of course, he thought of his spikers’ well-being first and needed to prepare a list of things that would make Omi feel good like masks, gloves, and hydroalcoholic gel. He knew which brand Omi preferred and the one he hated. Atsumu made sure to have a small bag ready each time they were on away games. He needed to tell the new setter what kind of energetic bar Inunaki preferred, how to cheer up Bokkun, and always accept Shoyo’s requests for more toss.
Atsumu kept his eyes glued to the ground and couldn’t stop twitching his fingers. He couldn’t breathe and felt so hot it was like he was in the middle of a volcano. For the well-being of the team, Meian had to listen to him.
“Miya. Atsumu, look at me.”
Atsumu slowly turned his gaze to his captain. Meian’s face was closed and it’s in moments like this that Atsumu remembered why Meian was the captain.
“Do you want to leave the team?”
“No!” immediately responded Atsumu. He widened his eyes. “I love the team so fuckin’ much I don’t want ta go anywhere!”
“Then why did you make a fucking list of replacements?”
“I told ya, the team deserves better than me.”
Meian pinched his lips and suddenly stood up. “Follow me.”
Atsumu frowned. “Where?”
“I know you Tsumu, I know you’re not going to listen to me so follow me.”
Meian held his hand to him and Atsumu took it following his captain.
— — —
Meian knocked three times on the wooden door and Atsumu thought they were two minutes away from being killed.
Everyone knew not to bother Coach Foster in his office.
“Come in!”
Meian opened the door and dragged Atsumu still holding his hand. “Hey Coach, can we talk to you?”
Coach nodded and raised his gaze from his papers. “What did our troublemaker do again?”
Atsumu flinched. He had gained that nickname a month after he arrived on the team. He loved pranking and joking around and at first he was proud of the Coach’s nickname but now he can’t help but think of the tweets. Maybe Coach did hate him.
Meian spoke. “Why did you pick Tsumu?”
Coach put down his papers and raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, boy?”
“Why did you pick Tsumu?” asked Meian again.
Atsumu couldn’t look at his coach and only tightened his grip on Meian’s hand. He whispered. “We should ga before he kills us.”
Coach hummed. “Objectively I picked Atsumu because he was polyvalent on the service, he’s an excellent setter and knows how to get the best out of the spiker.” He stood up from his chair and walked in front of his office. “He has a good game’s vision and is one of the best strategists.”
Coach took a step forward. “Now personally,” he gently raised Atsumu’s chin to look at him in the eyes, “when I first saw you I was only an assistant coach and Old man refused to listen to me. You were in your second year and you played against Hinata’s team. You lost but during the game, I saw how much pleasure you took. That day I knew you would be perfect for the Jackals. When OId man retired and I became the head coach, you were my one condition. If they promised to sign you, then I agreed to become the coach. No one even knew if you wanted to become pro but I didn’t care. I wanted you.”
Atsumu felt tears coming to his eyes and his vision getting blurry. “Coach.”
Coach sighed and took him in his arms. “Is this because of last night? Atsumu, I’m proud of you. You’re a genius, you made the national team at nineteen Atsumu that’s impressive. You’re a good setter. A good and kind boy.” He rubbed Atsumu’s back and glanced at Meian. “We all know I don’t do favorites because that’s what a good coach does, he doesn’t pick favorites but between you and me, you’re my favorite. You’re my boy. And I promise I will find the journalist and everyone else and make sure they get what they deserve okay? Now go back to your team, and call your brother. He’s worried.”
Atsumu nodded and wiped his tears. “Thankya, Coach.”
“Of course.” Coach Foster smiled as he ruffled his hair. “And please, don’t call Sakusa by his last name again the poor boy is going to pass out. And talk to him to him. I know you’re worrying but believe an old man, you’re worrying for nothing.” Then he looked at Meian’s hand. “What’s that paper?”
Meian handed it to the Coach. “It’s a list of setters Atsumu made.”
Coach snorted and looked at the list. Then he tore the paper apart and threw it in the trash can. “We don’t need that, we already have the perfect setter.”
Meian smiled and brushed his thumb against Atsumu’s hand as Atsumu chuckled. “Thankya Coach.”
Meian and Atsumu left the Coach’s office and went to the locker room. They entered and both only saw chaos among the team. Clothes were everywhere and everyone was yelling but suddenly the locker room went quiet when the team saw them.
Omi walked quickly and put himself in front of Atsumu. He looked sad and angry.
“Is it true? Are you leaving?”
Atsumu blinked. “What?”
Omi advanced furious, “You can’t leave us.”
“Nah I ain’t leaving why are you sayin’ that?”
Omi looked back at Inunaki and glared at him. “You said he was leaving.”
Inanuki flinched. “I heard him saying to Meian he had a list of replacements!”
Omi glared back at Atsumu. “What’s that list?”
Meian gently spoke. “Everyone calm down, Tsumu isn’t going anywhere and the list was a simple misunderstanding.”
Omi still glared at him and Atsumu could feel the spiker’s anger. From behind Omi, Barnes hummed. “Is it because of last night Tsumu?”
Atsumu looked away as Hinata asked. “What happened last night?”
Meian explained as Atsumu sat on a bench under Omi’s gaze, “A shitty journalist wrote a mean article toward Tusmu and posted it on Twitter. He asked people to tell him why they hate Tsumu.”
“Oh,” Hinata whispered. “That’s why Tobio kept sending me messages asking how Tsumu was doing. I don’t use Twitter a lot, I didn’t see.”
Bokuto shook his head. “I didn’t see either, since the incident, Keiji control my social media and I don’t like going on it.” He muttered. “Now that I think about it he asked me this morning to watch over you but I thought it was simply usual. He always asks that.”
Omi didn’t say anything but glared at his phone like it had personally offended him.
Adriah tilted his head with a frown. “You don’t believe them right Tsumu? You know we love you right? And I’m sure Bokuto and his husband don’t mind when you spend time with them and I’m positive Hinata don’t think you’re a creep.”
Both Bokkun and Shoyou exclaimed their surprise. Bokkun was the first to react and quickly went next to Atsumu. “Is that why you didn’t call me Bokkun this morning? Keiji loves spending time with you and we love having you with us!”
Atsumu smiled. “Thankya, Bokkun but it’s okay if ya guys don’t invite me anymore and spend time together.”
Bokuto punched Atsumu’s shoulder. “Idiot Tsum-tsum, we love you and we want you. If Keiji didn’t like it he would say it I promise.”
“Thankya Bokkun.”
“I don’t find you creepy Atsumu-san.”
Atsumu raised his head and saw Shoyo standing in front of him smiling.
“You were the first person in my life who told me they wanted to set for me. For once I didn’t have to beg and someone wanted me for me. You’re one of the reasons why I left for Brazil because if the third-best setter of the country wanted me then I needed to improve.”
Slowly every single teammate started praising Atsumu, everyone except Omi. Omi stayed silent, only looking at Atsumu with a frown. He wanted to joke that he would have a wrinkle but Atsumu preferred to pinch his lips and not say anything making Omi frown further.
The players started leaving and Omi decided to speak. Atsumu thought Omi would tell him he was an idiot to give some haters attention or he was stupid to think he could leave the team but no, Omi surprised him as always.
“Go take a shower, you stink. I’ll wait for you and then we’re going home.”
Home, the MBSY complex where the players lived, had become Atsumu’s home five years ago, but this was the first time Omi referred to it as home since he made it to the team.
Atsumu nodded and after showering he changed to his spare clothes. Everyone had left except for Omi with his eyes glued to his phone when Atsumu came back.
“Yer ready Om-Sakusa?”
Omi narrowed his eyes and stood up putting his phone in his pocket. They left the stadium and walked to the complex. The walk was calm and silent. Atsumu could feel Omi want to talk and question him but his teammate didn’t say anything.
They arrived at the complex and went to the fourth floor where Atsumu, Omi, Shoyo, Bokkun, and his husband lived. They walked past Shoyo and Bokkun’s apartment and Omi went to his own. Atsumu put his hand on his own door knob when Omi spoke.
“Where you’re going?”
“Home why?”
Omi frowned and Atsumu swore that one day his eyebrows would permanently stay like that. Omi opened the door and looked at Atsumu. “Come in.” and entered.
Atsumu followed him and closed the door. He take off his shoes and put on the guest’s slipper which slowly became his. Some days, Atsumu spends more time in Omi’s apartment than his own. He hung his jacket next to Omi’s and entered the living room.
“Sit on the couch.”
Atsumu nodded and waited for Omi. He came back holding two cups, one with Omi’s jersey number and one with Atsumu’s jersey number.
Atsumu had bought the mugs as a gag gift saying that Omi would spend all of his morning with him. Omi put the SAKUSA mug in front of Atsumu and kept the MIYA cup in his hands.
Seeing a mug with his last name and jersey number in Omi’s hands set his body on fire.
Atsmu picked up the mug and smiled. “Thanks for the Viennese hot chocolate Om- I mean Saksua.”
“Stop.”
“Hah?”
“Stop calling me that. You never called me that before so stop it.”
Atsumu pinched his lips and tightened his grip on the mug. “You hate that nickname, we both know that, and the world-”
“I don’t give a shit about the world. I’ll fight the world if I have too even if it’s only us against the world. Don’t change your attitude or yourself because of a couple of assholes.”
“Omi-”
“They don’t know you.” Omi put his mug on the coffee table and came closer to him. “They don’t know how much you care. They don’t know that one time you threw a tantrum in a hotel because they dare not have hydroalcoholic gel and mine was empty. They don’t know you learn to cook Brazilian dishes for Hinata because one day he said he was homesick. They don’t know you stayed until past midnight to help Bokuto prepare the reception room for his wedding. They don’t know you learned to crochet to make a baby blanket for Meian’s baby daughter.”
“Omi I get it-”
“No, you don’t. If you prepared a list of setters for Meian it means you don’t know. You aren’t too much Atsumu. You’re perfect. You matter. We love you.” Omi cupped his face and smiled. “I love you.”
Atsumu closed his eyes, keeping his tears at bay, and shook his head. “No. Dont- Dontcha dare Omi, dontcha dare lie to me about that.”
“I’m not lying-”
“Yes yer lying, yer lying because you feel bad and ya pity me-”
“When was the last time I pitied someone Atsumu? I love you. I love your smile, your unfunny jokes-”
“My jokes are hilarious thankya very much.”
Omi snorted. “I love your eyes, I love that you have a bag with gloves, gel, and mask because you care, I love you that you made me a playlist after I arrived and I told you I didn’t want to talk during bus journeys, I love your ambition, your sarcasm, your hands, I love everything about you. You’re the reason I came to the jackals. I know some people wished Osamu became pro instead of you but I couldn’t disagree more. Atsumu, half the team is here because of you. I came for you, Bokuto came for you, Hinata came for you. We want you.”
“Yer going to regret it, Omi. I’m too much-”
“You’re not too much, you’re perfect the way you are. People don’t tell the sun to shine less.”
Atsumu snorted. “You think I’m the sun?”
Omi smiled and brushed his thumb against Atsumu’s cheek whipping a tear. “You’re my sun.”
Omi closed the gap between them and gently lovingly kissed him and Astumu felt the world around him disappear only thinking of Omi his whole world.
They spent the rest of the evening cuddling and kissing on the couch until they heard someone knock.
Atsumu captured Omi’s lips and moved to his neck. “Who dares to interrupt us?”
Omi snorted and stole a kiss. “Go open the door and I’m preparing the table.”
“Yar preparing the table?” asked Atsumu as Omi stood up and went to the kitchen. “We have guests?”
Omi hummed as the guests knocked again. Atsumu opened the door and his eyes widened. “What the fuck?”
Osamu smirked. “I told ya we here comin’ to see ya, Kiyoomi warns me ya would be there instead of yer apartment and invited us for dinner.” his brother entered and yelled. ‘Hi Kiyoomi!”
Suna smirked and entered. He whispered to Atsumu’s ear. “Nice hickey.”
Atsumu immediately put his hand on the hickey on his neck Omi had made earlier. “Fuck ya.”
He saw his brother helping Omi prepare the table while Suna pulled fresh onigiri from a bag. Atsumu frowned. “There is a lot of food for yers.”
Then at the same time, another knock could be heard. Omi smiled. “Can you open the door Atsu?”
Atsumu nodded and opened back the door. Bokkun and Keiji were in the doorframe and Keiji immediately hugged him.
“Are you okay? Don’t you dare listen to them. You’re great and we love you. I’m glad to spend time with you and I’m not using you.”
Bokkun nodded. “Keiji spends his whole day fighting people on Twitter with Meian’s wife.”
Keiji glared back. “It was supposed to be a secret Kou. You promised me and Mari not to talk about it.”
Atsumu smiled, “Thankya, ya didn’t havta.”
Keiji looked at him back. “I already fight people for my husband.” he brushed Atsumu’s hair. “I can do it for my brother. We’re family Tsumu, we stick together, that’s what Kou taught me.”
Bokkun nodded as Shoyo and Kageyama appeared behind them. “We’re not late right?”
Kageyama rolled his eyes. “Of course, we’re late idiot we lost forty-five minutes because you forced me to make curry.”
Shoyo yelled back. “Atsumu-san loves curry so you had to Stupidyama!”
Sometimes Atsumu wondered how the two idiots managed not to fight during their own wedding.
Omi appeared behind Atsumu’s back. “Please enter and take your shoes off, Atsu will give you spare slippers.”
And like that ten minutes later everyone was at the table talking, laughing, or insulting each other. Osamu and Suna helped to wash the dishes as Bokkun and Shoyo cleaned the table while Keiji talked with Kageyama and Omi.
Atsumu smiled seeing his family together and thought the dinner was nice. Kageyama and Shoyo left first followed by Osamu and Suna. Before leaving his twin brother slap the back of his head.
“Dontcha forgets scrub, I’m the only one who can insult ya!”
“Whenever scrub!”
Bokkun talked with Omi about the next day's training when Keiji appeared next to him.
“Before coming, I send a file to Coach Foster.”
“Really? Abouta what?”
Keiji smiled, “I spent the day with Mari we made a file with Yasu’s help. We found everything, last names, first names, addresses, and phone numbers of every single person who insulted you. Coach thanked us.”
Atsumu blinked. “Ya founda everythin’ in a single day?”
Keiji smirked. “Four hours.”
Bokkun kissed Keiji’s cheek. “We’re going?” and Keiji nodded. They left the apartment after wishing goodnight to the new couple.
Atsumu looked at the door and blinked. Omi put a lock of blonde hair behind Atsumu’s ear. “Everything is alright Atsu?”
Atsumu nodded. “Remind me to never, ever make angry Keiji, Mari and Yasu.”
Omi frowned. “Meain and Thomas’s wife? I told you they were scary. It took them an hour to find my older brother’s mistress.”
“Yeah, but yer brother is a dipshit so I thought I was normal!”
Atsumu fell asleep in his lover’s arms and thought it felt so good to be loved.
The next day, the MBSY and Japan teams both made a statement against cyberbullying. They will take legal action against and ban the haters from the stadium. They will also explain how much Atsumu is a good, kind player and person, and they’re lucky to have him. Daichi will help Atsumu press charges against the journalist.
Once they were back home from the police station Omi kissed Atsumu and the setter buried his hands into the dark curls.
“I love ya Omi.”
“I love you too Atsu and remember us against the world.”