Chapter Text
Atsumu is aware that pride will be the cause of his downfall someday.
His self-awareness is futile if he doesn’t take the necessary course of action to avoid the possible consequences of placing too much importance on his dignity, but he’d rather not admit to his parents that 2 years into college and studying in the University of Tokyo, that the money they send him every 2 weeks isn’t enough to cover his expenses.
With his twin brother, Osamu, studying in France and taking up Culinary Arts in Le Cordon Bleu, he doesn’t have the heart to cause financial distress to his parents especially since their dad is bound to retire already. Sighing, he places a hand on his stomach and looks down on the book before him. Atsumu has always hated numbers because they remind him of Mathematics, the numbers on the scale, the numbers on his bank account (which is now down to only 2 digits and it’s only Tuesday, 2 days of the week in) and his reality - an Accountancy student constantly on edge because of the maintaining grade in the program and a volleyball player playing for the collegiate league. Numbers also represent his grades which he needs to take care of as a student enjoying a sports scholarship.
How is Accountancy and volleyball even related?
The answer is: no way at all, but his parents asked him to take a degree wherein he’ll have a fallback in case he won’t be able to go pro with volleyball after college. Initially, Atsumu was hurt. Did his parents not believe in his capabilities, that he’ll be scouted immediately? Did they not pay attention to the number of teams who attempted to recruit him straight out of high school? He expressed those thoughts to Osamu back then, who was packing his clothes in his luggage bag in preparation for his flight scheduled after 2 weeks.
“Ya know they’re just looking out for ya,” Osamu responds, rolling his eyes. “Anything can happen, after all.”
Atsumu sits up and rests his feet on their bunk bed’s ladder. As he watches Osamu close his bag and place it on the corner of their room, things start to sink in.
Osamu is leaving them, leaving him.
If his chest ached and his eyes became wet at the thought, Osamu didn’t need to know that, but unfortunately, his twin knew him better than anyone, even better than himself and so, for the next 2 weeks, despite their beds only being fit for one person, they laid side by side, sleeping and waking up to the sight of each other.
What is Osamu doing right now? Atsumu thinks, leaning back on his chair as he looks up the ceiling. Did he already eat?
Atsumu hopes he already did, because Atsumu hasn’t yet.
With his twin’s school reminding him of food and cordon bleu being one of Atsumu’s favorite dishes, he reaches out for his phone and heads off to the application which makes his life more bearable - Tinder.
A relationship is not on top of his priority list, heck, he isn’t even sure if it’s on his list at all, but dating apps aren’t purely for that. Atsumu utilizes Tinder for sustenance. It’s the platform which made him realize that being attractive does have perks and in his situation, being able to fill up his stomach.
He already established a routine - Atsumu swipes right to only 2 types of profiles: 1. hot guys; and 2. those who seem well-off, no matter what their age or appearance may be. What he’s doing entails a lot of risks, especially with how desperate most of his Tinder matches are to get into his pants and for all he could know, he might be talking to a human trafficker, but Atsumu is fortunate that his worst encounter so far was a middle-aged man who wanted to suck on his toes.
After matching with someone, he waits for them to shoot him a message and once they do, arranging for lunch or dinner with the bill to be shouldered by them is easy. Usually, what he does is he admits to having no money when they ask him to hang out and when they take pity on him, that’s when the offer to pay comes up. Atsumu is always more than happy to accept.
What he’s doing is a secret he’s been keeping for nearly 7 months now and he’s surprised he was able to keep it from Osamu. Atsumu thought he was finally good at keeping his mouth zipped regarding such matters, until he met Taro from Omegle, who was blowing up his phone. He considers him as his internet best friend.
taro: let me guess
taro: ure in the middle of doin ur
taro: “arrangement”
taro: im bored
taro: so if i’m right
taro: tell me abt him
atsu: HAHAHAH heck yea
atsu: turns out this guy’s my schoolmate and he’s up for dinner. i can taste the cordon bleu on my mouth ^___^
taro: how hot
atsu: 7, ig?
taro: boo
taro: what if i told u that i’m loaded and an 8-ish out of 10
Atsumu pauses upon realizing that he doesn’t have any idea what Taro looks like because unlike him, Taro doesn’t have a profile picture on his Telegram account. Taro pretty much knows Atsumu’s entire life story, while he doesn’t have a clue about his ‘best friend’. He apologizes to his parents for being too comfortable with strangers.
atsu: i don’t date friends srry ><
taro: aw
taro: at least i tried
atsu: i have a twin, if that makes u feel better :D
Receiving no reply from Taro, Atsumu sets his phone down on his study table and gets up from his chair. He thinks of an outfit to wear as he walks towards his closet, wanting to at least look good for Hyakuzawa, his date for the night. If his memory serves him right, the guy is well-known around campus for being 2 meters tall. Atsumu hopes he’s correct because another secret the blonde has is his size difference kink. He absolutely loves taller men and how they tower over him. While going on dates is mostly for free food, Atsumu doesn’t shy away from sex if he considers them attractive enough to let them have their way with him.
Anything that’s too good to be true is never true.
Atsumu pushes his seat back with force, the fixture’s legs screeching over the floor and catching the attention of the other diners.
While Hyakuzawa was tall, charming and well-off, he was incredibly rude to the waiter - and Atsumu cannot stand such people. Waiters are humans, just like them, and what ticks Atsumu off is the idea that if he were in the waiter’s shoes, instead of being his date, Atsumu will be on the receiving end of his lack of manners.
Turning to the waiter, Atsumu bows down his head, “I’m sorry for his behavior.” and then he glares at Hyakuzawa who looks back at him, confused.
As Atsumu walks away with Hyakuzawa calling out his name, explaining that what he did was to impress him, he shakes his head in disbelief.
It’s a pity that having money doesn’t equate to having good manners and right conduct, but Atsumu is sure that in the event that he gets his hands on some cash, he’ll be happy and content with life, thereby having no reason to be churlish to others.
Whoever believes that money can’t buy happiness must be someone who doesn’t know how to spend it, he thinks.
Sakusa Kiyoomi has a love-hate relationship with money and on most days, he leans toward hatred.
At the age of 32, he can be considered as incredibly successful. Being a managing partner of Sakusa, Komori & Kita Law Firm, otherwise known as SK&K, one of the top four Law firms in all of Japan, owning several real estate properties, his 8-car garage being fully utilized and an LLM, Masters of Law, attached to his name, people don’t see any reason for him to be unhappy with life.
He begs to differ.
What he has accomplished is a product of his hard work and not because he was born in a wealthy family. In fact, his background is what caused so much agony into his life.
Being a Sakusa felt like a curse. Whatever Kiyoomi accomplished, it’s always attributed to his family, no matter how many times he proved to everyone that he didn’t need to be from an affluent family to be where he is today.
It all started when he was in business school.
“When you have the chance to talk to any of your professors, tell them that I send my regards.” his dad told him before he left for his first day.
He was perplexed as to why, but he got his answer in the 2nd month of his first year in college.
Kiyoomi was the last to leave his Operations Management class. As he walked past his professor’s table, he was reminded of his dad’s words.
He paused in front of his professor who looked up from the papers he was arranging.
“What can I do for you, erm-” his professor seemed to not recall his name, but he didn’t take it against him. There were 55 students in his class, after all.
“My dad sends his regards, sir.”
“Tell him I’m well. Who is your dad?”
“Sakusa Akio, sir.”
He was met with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Kiyoomi stared back and the next words his professor told him were unexpected,
“You can just sit in the back, okay? Stay discreet and quiet. I assure you, you’ll pass this class.”
It might be an isolated case, Kiyoomi thought to himself, only to realize that he’s mistaken when he said the same thing to the rest of his professors. He got the same response every time.
Others would be relieved or even smug if they were in his position, but Kiyoomi was angry.
All the praise and recognition he received throughout his life until college, is it all because of his parents? Is it not because of his own capabilities? Did he not accomplish anything on his own?
That memory is engraved in Kiyoomi’s mind and is his motivation whenever he felt like giving up. Thus, when he almost got disowned for not wanting to take over their family business, he wasn’t floored. He has already set his mind that he’s going to take up Legal Management, go to Law School, put up a Law firm and establish himself as Sakusa Kiyoomi, a Lawyer known for his legal brilliance and not as Sakusa Kiyoomi, the son of Sakusa Akio and Sakusa Aimi, owners of the multinational conglomerate, Sakusa Corporation.
“Is the light too bright, sir? How about your mic?”
“All of them are fine. Thank you.”
How Motoya managed to convince him to appear on national television remains as a mystery to him.
His cousin gives him a thumbs up from behind the camera crew. Kiyoomi glares at him and uses his middle finger to adjust his glasses, tempted to flip him off.
“You’re almost up, Atty. Kiyoomi.”
Kiyoomi straightens up from his seat and follows the cameraman’s hand which was being waved, informing him of where to look.
SK&K provides legal advice and opinions to the hit TV series, Kambe and Kato: Crimebusters, a show where private sector issues are resolved. Usually, Motoya and some of their other staff appear on the show, but again, Kiyoomi wasn’t sure what had gotten into him that made him agree to do so. Fortunately, the shooting location was in the comfort of his office.
“What happened with Kuroo Tetsurou and Lev Haiba is really controversial, right Kambe-san?”
“Yes, Kato-san and not everyone has the technical knowledge to decipher the situation. And with that, let us ask experts on the matter.”
“Ah yes, let us call on Atty. Kiyoomi Sakusa from SK&K Law Firm. Good afternoon, Atty.”
“Good day, Kambe-san and Kato-san.”
Kiyoomi feels a bit jittery, conscious of what he looks and sounds like during that moment, but when Daisuke Kambe, one of the hosts, asked him to explain the situation, he was at ease.
He loves the Law and talking about it was second nature to him already.
“Last December 2020, ImLev, a cosmetics company owned by Lev Haiba, one of Kuroo Tetsurou’s friends, failed to get approval from the Food and Drug Administration for the make-up line the company intended to launch. When this occurs, normally, the stock prices of the company decreases since the market’s expectations have not been met.”
From the screen, Kiyoomi can see Kambe and Kato nodding, prompting him to continue.
“As reported on the news, in February 2021, Lev Haiba was arrested for advising friends and family members to sell the stock before the FDA made the announcement and the stock dropped in price.
During the investigation of ImLev, it was discovered that Kuroo Tetsurou had sold 4,000 shares of the ImLev stock he owned the day before the FDA decision was announced — avoiding a loss of around ¥45,000,000 in the process.”
“So, it’s insider trading?”
Kiyoomi purses his lips before he responds, “As of now, nothing has been confirmed yet. However, the suspicious timing and the fact that he received the information about the stock through his stockbroker, Kai Nobuyuki, led to an investigation of Kuroo's dealings with ImLev.”
“Thank you for that, Atty.” Kato skims through his script, “This information has just been revealed this morning, but Kuroo Tetsurou is denying any wrongdoing. He claims that he had an agreement with his broker to sell the shares if they went below a certain price. If in case his claims were proven false, what are the possible charges to be pressed against him?”
Kiyoomi nods, processing the information given to him. “Before I answer that, I would like to clarify that SK&K are in no way affiliated to any of the parties in this case, despite most of our clients being corporations. This matter is being taken care of by another firm.” he says, as a way to avoid conflict and to allow him to have time to think.
It’s during these times that Kiyoomi is grateful for having good memory and being quick to answer, “He can be charged with securities fraud, obstruction of justice, and conspiracy. This case is actually similar to what happened to Martha Stewart back in 2004. The best-case scenario for Kuroo Tetsurou is to pay for legal settlement and in the event that he does go to jail, a short sentence to be followed by house arrest and probation for a certain period.”
“Again, thank you for that Atty. Kiyoomi,” Kambe gives him a smile and a nod of approval while Kato squints his eyes at the comments section of their livestream.
Kiyoomi nods back, pleased with how his segment turned out. He can’t wait to review the replay later. “Thank you as well, Kambe-san and Kato-san.”
“Before you go, Atty. We would like to tell you that our viewers are very pleased to have you on our show, based on the number of comments about you.”
Motoya covers his mouth with his fist from behind the camera, stifling a laugh.
“Ah,” Kiyoomi is not sure how to react. “I’m glad to be of help.” he adjusts his glasses, waiting for the crew’s cue that he’s done for the day.
“Can we ask one last question, Atty.?”
“Yes, sure.”
“The viewers are dying to know. Are you single?”
“That’s the first and last time I’m doing that.” he squints his eyes at his cousin who was wiping tears from his eyes due to excessive laughter. The crew already left and they were alone inside his office.
A knock came from the door before a familiar voice said, “It’s me.”
“Come in,” Kiyoomi grumbles, flinging one of his pens to Motoya who managed to dodge it. Shinsuke watches them from the door with a blank expression. He picks up the pen, handing it over to Kiyoomi before settling down on the couch.
“So, how do you feel like, Hottorney?”
The sound of Kiyoomi’s palm making contact with his forehead prompted Motoya to start laughing again.
“Not you too, Shin.” he furrows his brows at the older who was giving him a lopsided grin.
Shinsuke stands up, turning his back to them and making his way to the door. “Anyway, I just dropped by to tell you that maybe you shouldn’t use social media for the entire week or so, considering that you don’t seem to be embracing your newest…” he pauses before looking over his shoulder with a chuckle, “title.”
The door closes with a click and Kiyoomi wants to combust with the mischievous smile on Motoya’s face.
“Ugh,” Kiyoomi sinks onto his chair, removing his glasses with unnecessary force. “Can you stop?”
Motoya taps his fingers against his chin, pouting and looking up the ceiling.
“No,” Motoya feels tired from laughing too much for the day, but the sight of his cousin looking like a petulant child was just too funny not to react to. “Seriously though, Ki. When was the last time you went on a date?”
“Why are you even asking that?” Kiyoomi raises a brow at him, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on his chair. As he rolls up the sleeves of his white button-up, he retorts, “Shouldn’t you be busy nursing your broken heart over that Suna kid?”
Kiyoomi can’t figure out what about Suna Rintarou caught Motoya’s attention. Based on what he heard, the kid’s quite a brat. Suna’s family runs an empire of night clubs and cabarets; Rintarou is set to inherit it.
“Ki!” Motoya exclaims, clearly offended. Kiyoomi huffs, placing his glasses back on his face. “I liked him and it just so happened he’s still in college, not the other way around.”
“Okay, if that makes you sleep better at night,” Kiyoomi peers down on the documents on his table, sorting them. “Now, go away. Don’t you have work to do?”
“I do,” Motoya crosses his arms above his chest, “But I really feel like you’ll do well in the dating scene!”
“It’s hard, you know that.”
Contrary to popular belief, Kiyoomi is capable of having feelings but finding a suitable partner is challenging for him. It’s not because he’s too particular with his taste in men and women, but because he isn’t sure where to look. He’s been avoiding dating people within his social circle, those who are on the same caliber as him, given that everyone is connected to his parents, in one way or another. The obvious answer is to venture outside his circle, but frankly, Kiyoomi isn’t ready to step out of his comfort zone to do that.
Motoya hums, “You’re right.” he plants his feet on the floor and stands up. Kiyoomi sighs in relief, in dire need of some peace and silence. “This conversation isn’t over yet, Ki.”
Kiyoomi isn’t sure what time it is, but judging from the view outside his huge window, it must be dawn.
Sleep didn’t come to him as easy as it usually does. His mind kept him awake and made him toss and turn on his bed for the last few hours.
Being in a relationship has never concerned him, but his conversation with Motoya kept replaying in his head.
The door of his bedroom creaks open, making Kiyoomi’s eyes widen.
Is he getting robbed? He’s pretty sure he locked his door and all the windows.
Did the trespasser destroy his security system?
Are the guards outside the village gate not doing their job?
He gets his glasses from the nightstand to wear them.
“What the fuck, Motoya?” Kiyoomi clenches his fist at the sight of his cousin and throws a pillow at him. It hits him square on the face.
“I told you to use my key only for emergency purposes.”
Motoya sits down on the edge on his bed before flopping down. Kiyoomi grabs the opportunity to smack him with a pillow again. Motoya doesn’t do anything to stop him, closing his tired eyes.
“I have an idea.” he drawls, shifting on his side to look at Kiyoomi who had identical dark circles under his eyes. They must have cousin telepathy or something because before he can open his mouth again to speak, Kiyoomi raises a hand and says, “No.”
“What if I’m thinking of a different thing?”
“I bet my Aston Martin you aren’t.”
Motoya rests his elbows on the bed to support his head, “And you’re so sure because?”
Kiyoomi averts his gaze, “... because,” he trails off, “I may or may not have thought of it.”
It’s 3AM in the morning when Kiyoomi and Motoya find themselves huddled over Kiyoomi’s phone with the Tinder application open.
“This is such a bad idea,” Kiyoomi remarks, his finger hovering over the assistive touch button to go back to his home screen, “I won’t-”
“No!” Motoya reaches for his phone and succeeds. Kiyoomi’s shoulders drop. He feels too exhausted to fight back. His mood began to sour upon realizing that they need to be in the office by 8AM.
Motoya grins, clicking and typing away on his phone. Kiyoomi leans back on his bed’s headboard, pinching his glabella. “Just get it over with it.”
“Aye, aye!” His cousin gives him a salute before he turns his phone in Kiyoomi’s direction, “Now, smile.”
Kiyoomi lunges towards him. Motoya rolls to the side to avoid being crushed by Kiyoomi.
“Oh right,” Motoya laughs. “We can’t show your face. How are we going to do this then?” he mutters to himself.
“That’s it. Give it back.”
“Aha!” Motoya snaps his fingers, going through Kiyoomi’s photos. “We’ll just crop out your face from your photos. You have a nice figure, you can attract a handful of people with that.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, outstretching his hand, “You’ve had your fun. My phone.”
“I’m almost done.” Motoya continues to tap on his phone.
Sleep sounds really appealing to Kiyoomi, so he removes his glasses and succumbs to his fatigue, draping his forearm above his eyes to finally get some rest.
Today, or rather, yesterday was a long day. What awaits both of them is an equally long, if not longer, day. He wishes there was a way to squeeze in 8 hours of sleep in less than 4 hours.
But before he can slip into slumber, Komori taps him rather harshly, a proud grin on his face.
Kiyoomi opens his eyes at the contact and scowls. He grabs his phone, blinking at what’s displayed on his screen.
Kean, 32
Lawyer
Lf sugar baby. Must be discreet
True to his words, Motoya picked photos of him clad in suits, but with his face cropped out. Kiyoomi is confused. People on dating apps are willing to swipe right to a profile like that? Aren’t they scared of being misled or at least, skeptical?
“This,” Kiyoomi sits up, kicking off his duvet to leave the bed and Motoya takes his phone from him. He wears his night slippers, opens one of his drawers and grabs a pack of Mevius menthol cigarettes. “..is stressing me out.”
He unlocks his sliding window and opens the pack. Kiyoomi frowns upon realizing he forgot to grab his lighter, but Motoya was already making his way toward him, his black and gold Caseti lighter in his hand. His cousin grimaces, “Your taste in cigarettes really bothers me. Most people probably think you’re more into tobacco sticks.”
“Who cares? No matter what brand or form, my lungs are gonna get back at me in the future.” Kiyoomi grumbles before placing a stick between his mouth and lighting it. He outstretches the pack to Motoya in offerance. Motoya waves his hand in refusal.
“You don’t have anything better to do with your money, right?”
As he takes a puff of his cigarette, Kiyoomi pauses before exhaling and answering, “I guess.”
“And sugar dating’s kind of like that, you know? It’s like you have a pet and you incur expenses so that they’ll look cute and give you attention from time to time.”
Kiyoomi turns to Motoya and deadpans, “Shouldn’t I get a pet instead, then?”
Motoya shakes his head and continues, “Sugar dating isn’t purely about having a sugar baby to fulfill your sexual desires. It can be compensated dating-”
“Now, that’s just sugar coating it.” Kiyoomi taps his cigarette, letting the ash fall from his balcony.
“Ha ha,” Motoya rolls his eyes. “But I think what you want is more of a compensated relationship, knowing you and wanting to keep people an arm’s length away, but also wanting them to be involved in your life.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t protest because he’s right.
“And it’s kinda good karma! You’re helping a financially distressed person.”
With a shrug, Kiyoomi says, “I guess.” he walks to the table where his ashtray lies, putting out his cigarette before settling down on one of the chairs.
Motoya stands in front of him, his phone faced towards him, “Now, shall we get started?” his cousin wiggles his eyebrows in excitement.
“Oooh! Good start.” Motoya grins at the first profile he sees. Kiyoomi runs a hand through his hair before looking.
Atsumu, 21
University of Tokyo
I don’t even care if you’re a murderer at this point
The first picture of Atsumu was a mirror selfie of him, presumably taken straight after a workout, his arms and legs, especially his thighs, pumped up. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder as he tilted his head and hid a fourth of his face behind his phone.
Motoya taps on his profile to reveal the next picture - a shirtless picture of Atsumu on the beach, wearing sunglasses. The blonde only has three pictures on his profile, with the last being a cropped out photo of him from his volleyball team as he stuck his tongue out.
“You swipe right to like someone, left if you don’t wanna.”
Kiyoomi leans forward, forefinger hovering above his screen. “What if I swipe up?”
Motoya gasps, “Ki, no-”
But it was too late - stars and a surge of blue briefly filling up the screen.
Kiyoomi super liked Atsumu.