Chapter Text
“If ya haven’t found a place yet, just move in with me.” It’s said so casually, you almost think you’d imagined it. It’s an innocuous sentence and one could mistake it as pure generosity, said from the goodness of one’s heart.
The only problem was the person who’d said it.
Miya Atsumu sits on the stool next to you as he shovels the last bit of his onigiri into his mouth, disregarding proper table manners entirely. You gawk back at him, jaw dropped low and eyes wide as saucers as you try to decipher the true meaning behind the unexpected offer that's just flown out his mouth (along with bits of rice), less than three minutes ago.
Sensing your stare, Atsumu turns to you, blinking back confusedly by your confusion, before breaking out into a shit-eating grin.
Your suspicion grows.
You don’t respond immediately, instead letting the words sink and turning them over and over again in your head. You cast a glance upwards at Osamu, who stands on the other side of the counter, his expression mirroring your own—you’ve both been flabbergasted into silence.
Silence falls upon you both for the briefest of moments, a single inhale and exhale before, finally, Osamu looks back up and towards the blonde.
“Yer an idiot,” Osamu says simply, as if that’s all the response he needs to provide.
“What the hell?! Why?!” Snaps Atsumu, bits of rice flying out of his mouth as he shouts. He snaps his head at you and you can’t help but flinch at the intensity of his gaze, the way his chocolate brown eyes seem to bore right into you.
“M'bein’ serious here [Y/N], just move in with me!” It’s less of an offer now and more of a demand, you realize, and you’re left staring back at him blankly, response caught in your throat.
Your eyes narrow in suspicion before reaching out to place a tentative hand to his forehead. You miss the red tint to his cheeks, too frazzled to notice the way his eyes shake ever so slightly the moment your palm touches the skin of his forehead. You don't notice the way he seems to suck in a sharp breath, his entire body tensing up as if to brace for impact.
“Are you…are you feeling alright, Atsumu? You’re not sick or anything, right?” You say with utmost seriousness. You’re genuinely concerned for his health right now.
Osamu lets out a snort of laughter almost immediately, ducking his head just as Atsumu sends him a pointed glare. Atsumu’s grin drops into a scowl and he swats away at your hand (albeit gently), before swiveling his entire body towards you.
“M'serious! Yer havin’ trouble findin’ a place, right? My lease will be up by the time yer ready to move to Osaka, so s'perfect timin’!” Atsumu says it like it’s the most obvious solution to your dilemma, as if it makes perfect sense for you to move in with your best friend’s brother.
You’ve known Atsumu about as long as you’ve known Osamu, since you were all twelve years old and you’d first transferred to Yako Middle School. You’d moved to the Hyogo Prefecture to live with your dad and paternal grandparents after your mother's remarriage. She hadn’t kicked you out per se nor were you specifically pressured to make the move…but you’d grown a little too observant for your own good.
It was clear you were in the way.
The marriage and eventual divorce between your parents was volatile at best, and it was clear your mom just wanted to move on from that chapter in her life—as if it never happened. Unfortunately, you were a living reminder of her less happier days and her whirlwind of a marriage to your dad.
It didn't help that you just seemed to fail to live up to any expectations she set for you. Your grades were never high enough, your looks weren't nearly as glamorous as the girls in your class, and your overall personality wasn't nearly as bright or charming as it should be.
So when your dad offered you a chance to move in with him instead...you took it. You moved from Tokyo to the Hyogo Prefecture with nothing but a single suitcase full of clothes and a single stuffed dinosaur.
Two weeks later, you're introduced to the Miya brothers, Atsumu and Osamu, whose grandmother was close friends with your grandmother.
To say your first meeting with Miya Atsumu had been bad is putting it lightly.
He called you a disappointment upon your very first meeting with him, as if you had personally let him down with your existence alone. To his credit, he’d said it under his breath with the intention of you not hearing him. Unfortunately for twelve-year-old Atsumu, he was not nearly as subtle as he liked to believe himself to be.
You’d ended up hearing every word. “Man, what a letdown.”
Twelve-year-old you probably should’ve decked him the moment he’d uttered the words.
However, the you back then couldn’t help but agree, wholeheartedly, with his harsh assessment. Your mom thought you were a disappointment, your maternal grandparents thought so, too, so did your new stepdad and just about anyone who finds out who your biological dad is thinks so too.
Compared to your amazing Olympian, medal-winning dad, you kinda were a letdown.
You hadn’t been blessed with your dad’s height (you got your petiteness from your mother’s side of the family), nor your dad’s athleticism (you could barely run a mile), and you lacked your father’s natural, charming personality. Even your mom was pretty amazing in her own right; a natural intellectual and someone who always seemed put together no matter the time or place.
And you were just...well...you.
So, as harsh as it seemed, it made perfect sense to middle schooler you that this boy who you’d just met, who admired your dad and knew who he was, could take one look at you and be disappointed by what he saw. That didn’t stop you from being friends with his brother, of course, who promptly socked the older Miya (by a few minutes) in the back of his head for the offending comment.
You spent the entirety of middle school teetering on the border of being less than friends but more than acquaintances with Atsumu. Even when you’d become manager for the Boys’ Volleyball Club (upon Osamu’s request), your relationship remained awkward at best.
You’re not entirely sure what triggered it, but toward the end of your third year (in middle school), Atsumu started treating you a little nicer than before—like he was now making an effort to be considerate, to be nicer. You didn’t know that it was because he’d overheard you defending him when some of the other guys on the team started trash talking him.
He never cared one bit if people hated him or talked trash (still didn’t).
Even back then, Atsumu knew he was good and that was all that mattered to him. However, hearing you, polite, too-nice-for-her-own-good, ’goody-two-shoes’ (in his words) you, jump to his defense with zero hesitation and shaking like a leaf the entire time (because confrontation was just never your thing), you, who always preferred his twin brother over him, suddenly on his side of the court...it was enough to make young Atsumu decide you were a little more special (to him) than he’d originally thought.
High school was when your relationship really started to resemble something like friendship.
Obviously, your bond with Osamu still remained the strongest. You still felt a little awkward being alone with Atsumu, especially because neither of you ever seemed to know what to talk about. Eventually, even that awkwardness lessened to some degree by the time you both became second years.
You never, ever, mention, not even to Osamu, that you’d somehow developed a crush on Atsumu.
Of course, leave it to Osamu (and some of the more sharp-witted members like Kita and Aran), to notice that you harbor special, deeper, feelings for the blonde-haired setter. You just don't know that.
You don’t even know why it happened in the first place. Liking him, that is. Atsumu. If anything, it would've made way more sense to like Osamu, the nicer (but no less chaotic), twin.
So why did you have to go and fall for the difficult one?
The one who thought you were a disappointment. The one who called you a goody-two-shoes and made fun of your height every time he saw you. Why him? But you did and you still do. You liked him a lot (again, still do). You liked the way his deep brown eyes lit up whenever he did a particularly good set or serve, the way he broke out into a goofy grin like a child whenever he was really in the zone.
The intensity behind that gaze.
You liked that, when off the court, he was just a regular guy with so much chaotic energy that he ended up causing more trouble than he originally meant to. He wasn't always the nicest guy and he was always delivering backhanded compliments and getting under people's skin with unintentional (and sometimes intentional), often too blunt, comments.
However, he was never cruel nor was he deliberately malicious, and even though he complained all the time, you knew Atsumu was always looking out for you even when you didn’t realize (or notice) it the first time.
It was why Atsumu was always the first one to find you whenever you got (accidentally) left behind in the crowd, and the only reason why he was always the first one to cheer you up (however awkwardly he did so), whenever you were feeling a little blue. It was all the little (and big) things he did that made you like him, even if and when they seemed perfectly normal to most people.
Even when you knew none of that meant anything to him beyond just being a good childhood friend. He was nice to you because you were Osamu's friend and you were, at best, something like a little sister (despite being the same age as him).
You departed for Tokyo soon after graduation after you’d been accepted into a prominent art university there. You didn’t move in with your mother and her family and opted instead to live in the dorms. Atsumu had been scouted almost immediately after graduation and rapidly began making waves in the pro-leagues as a volleyball player.
You learned from Osamu that Atsumu had landed a spot as the official setter for the MSBY Black Jackals and, to your surprise, Atsumu sent you a selfie that same day of him in the Jackal’s jersey. He was grinning from ear to ear and telling you to watch his first game, and you told him that of course you would and then congratulated him.
You secretly saved that picture and still have it to this day.
Osamu opened up his own restaurant, Onigiri Miya, and you were the first one to visit his shop, his very first customer. You went there whenever you were in town for the weekend or the holidays and he always treated you despite your insistence that you’d pay. He said that it was your special privilege as his best friend and that he had to do it all the time for Atsumu, anyway, so you eating for free as well wouldn't suddenly hurt his business.
When you’d first been offered a chance to move to Osaka after being job-offered by a prominent, but small, design company, you took it in a heartbeat. You wanted to be closer to your family (the ones you were actually close to), to your friends (like Osamu), and even…Atsumu.
You don’t expect anything to develop between you and the older Miya.
At twenty-three, you’re still not that close with him. If anything, the four year gap where you hadn’t really seen each other save for the few times you visited during the holidays has only made the distance between you grow. You've seen the pictures on Instagram, the candid shots done by paparazzi and the articles and the local gossip whenever Atsumu is spotted with someone new, someone prettier than the last...someone the complete opposite of you.
You're more distant than ever and now hold the title of 'his old high school friend/his brother's friend'.
It's almost surprising that he even remembers your name, to be honest, let alone what you look like. Several weeks before you’re set to officially move to Osaka, you’re back in town and visiting Osamu’s shop to tell him the good news.
You don’t expect Atsumu to turn up out of the blue at his brother’s restaurant, after hours and while you’re still there.
When he learns of it, Atsumu becomes unexpectedly persistent about learning all about your move to Osaka. Before you know it, he’s throwing an unexpected offer at your face.
He asks you to move in with him.
“Atsumu,” you begin, pinching the bridge of your nose as a headache slowly forms. “You can’t be serious, right? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Atsumu blinks back at you quizzically. “Why not?! I said I was bein’ serious! How many times do I gotta say it till ya believe me?!”
He feels oddly offended that his words are being taken as lightly as they are by both you and Osamu. He leans in closer to you and practically traps you against the wall.
“[Y/N], move in with me. I mean it. Let’s live together!”
You open your mouth to reply back but find the words stuck in your throat. You try to find reason behind the madness of his nonsensical words only to come up short. Osamu narrows his eyes at Atsumu from the other side of the counter, before letting out a heavy sigh laced with exasperation and irritation.
"Oi, Tsumu, knock it off alrea-"
“I…I’ll think about it." The words tumble out before you have a chance to properly think it through, cutting off Osamu and shocking you and the former, as he nearly drops the onigiri in his hands at your unexpected response.
You watch as surprise, then joy, filters onto Atsumu’s face, and he's back to grinning at you like a boy who'd won the first, second and third prize all in one go. He’s beaming back at you with so much joy and excitement that he usually only shows playing volleyball.
You can’t stop the small smile that forms on your face upon seeing that familiar, goofy grin of his. It's been a long time since you've seen that smile directed at you, and immediately your heart swells with affection.
“Cool! Lemme know once you’ve made up yer mind,” Atsumu says before straightening up and turning back to Osamu as if the conversation had never even happened.
Except, not before turning to you once more and pointing an accusatory finger at you.
“And don’t even think about ignorin’ my texts! M'still pissed ya pretty much ghosted me once ya went to Tokyo! Ya can talk to Samu but not me?! M'hurt, [Y/N]! Seriously!”
You're left speechless by his words, blinking back at him, absolutely dumbfounded by this sudden accusation. It hadn't even occurred to you that it might've come across as that...as you 'ghosting' Atsumu, especially to Atsumu, himself.
You breathe a sigh of relief once he’s finally turned his gaze away from you, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You hope your face isn’t as red as you fear it to be, cheeks burning. You cast a cautious glance Osamu’s way, who lifts his brows at you and mouths a silent, ‘are ya okay?’
You smile back at him reassuringly and nod your head.
Of course, subtlety and patience were never Atsumu’s strong points.
Soon enough, you're getting texts nearly every day from him, asking if you’d made up your mind about moving in with him. If you didn't respond quick enough, he'd call you and your heart would go into a panic whenever you saw that 'calling' under his name. Then he’d send you snapshots of apartments he’d found through ads and or through the internet, and he'd ask you about your opinion as if it were already a done deal that you were living together.
Then, against your better judgement, you actually saw a real estate agent with Atsumu and went on tours looking at apartments...together. The real estate agent thought you were a couple because, logically, as a young man and woman of similar ages moving in together...one would naturally assume so.
To your horror (and confusion), Atsumu didn't bother denying it (because he thought it was funny seeing you get all flustered, he said) and you hurriedly corrected the agent, explaining that you were just friends. However, you weren't actually going to go through with this...were you? You were just humoring Atsumu, right?
You couldn't possibly live with him...right?
Six weeks later, you rent a decently sized, but cozy, 2-bedroom and 1 bathroom apartment in Osaka...with Atsumu.
You’re shocked, Osamu is shocked and Atsumu is…well, Atsumu.
“Osamu, I-I might’ve made a mistake,” you blurt out, still wrapped up in your utter disbelief and shock at what you've just done.
The darker haired Miya brother had swung by to help the two of you move in on the first day and was currently helping you move your things into your new room (because, apparently, he'd rather help you over his brother). You’re holding a medium sized box full of your personal items while Osamu stands next to you, also holding a box (though much larger).
You’re both standing in the empty space that will eventually be the living room. Atsumu is somewhere outside, still talking to the movers and directing where things should be placed. You decided to purge quite a few items from your old apartment because it meant less things to take with you from Tokyo to Osaka, so you have less things compared to Atsumu.
Osamu looks around the apartment in silence, admiring it with a blank expression. Eventually, he turns to you. With the smallest change to his expression, the lifting of his brows and a small smile, Osamu places a hand gently, but firmly, onto your shoulder.
“Have fun livin’ with the pig. Ya have my condolences.”
"Gee, thanks," you say, giving him a wry smile.
“Hey! I heard that, asshole!” cuts in Atsumu almost immediately, addressing Osamu, and having just entered the apartment in that exact moment.
“Good. I said it so ya could hear it, dumbass," replies Osamu cooly.
Four days later and you go furniture shopping with Atsumu. It’s weirdly domestic and something you hadn’t expected to do with him, ever, and you have to take a small step back just to fully wrap your head around what’s really happening to you.
Your thoughts are interrupted when Atsumu suddenly turns to you and points enthusiastically at a chair shaped like a giant face, his eyes gleaming with inspiration and excitement.
“No, absolutely not,” you say immediately, before he even has a chance to make his pitch.
“What?! But it’s so cool?!”
“If you want it that badly, then put it in your room,” you reply cooly, all but dragging him away from the chair.
Atsumu scoffs. “Hell no. It won’t match any of my stuff.”
“And it’ll match mine because…?” You turn to him and see that he’s giving you a wide, shit-eating grin.
“Cause s'pink, obviously!”
You spend the rest of your shopping shooting down every other piece of furniture and decor Atsumu tries to sneak into your cart.
Admittedly, he does manage to squeeze in a few items by the end of day. The two of you shop for a couch together because you never had one (you lived in a studio apartment prior to this, so your bed had also served as your couch), and the one Atsumu used to own was on its very last leg. You also decide to get a dining table and some new kitchenware and it's a little funny to you, if not surreal, that you're now buying everything in pairs.
When Atsumu sees you put up the clock with the pictures of various cartoon sushi printed on it in the kitchen (the one he insisted you just had to get), he all but beams back at you with pure joy.
“See? It totally matches the aesthetic!”
You can’t help but scoff. “Wow Atsumu...I’m surprised you even know the word ‘aesthetic’.”
He ends up pouting on the couch from your little insult for a good five minutes, right up until you distract him with the promise of curry udon for dinner.