Chapter Text
Atsumu is lost.
Haneda airport is huge , and it doesn’t help that Atsumu’s gate was changed at the last possible minute. He’s still got an hour until his flight leaves, but even so Atsumu feels like he’s cutting it close, and this flight is too important to miss.
He’d planned to arrive the day before filming is scheduled to start, rather than the day of, but as it so happened Atsumu had to present his Communications Design thesis the day he was supposed to fly out. He’d gotten a flight early Saturday morning instead, and if he were to miss it, he doubts it would be possible to get another one in time.
Atsumu glances up at the screen displaying gates, searching for his flight number. He scans the rows of numbers until he locates his flight, glancing down the highlighted section to find the gate. A-12, he reads, quickly typing into his phone before shouldering his duffel.
That’s when it happens.
He takes an unconscious step forward, too preoccupied to notice the man approaching from his left, and by the time he does, it’s far too late.
Atsumu collides with the stranger. The man’s coffee tips over as if in slow motion, splattering Atsumu’s pants and shoes with brown specks before spilling onto the floor. Atsumu freezes, glancing up at the stranger.
He’s tall, taller than Atsumu even, with dark, curly hair and a pair of moles decorating his forehead, just over his left eyebrow. The lower half of his face is covered by a cloth mask, and his eyes are dark with fury, or maybe they’re just literally black; either way it’s intimidating as fuck.
“Uh,” Atsumu mumbles, “...Sorry?”
The man glares at him. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t save my coffee,” he snaps, voice slightly muffled by the mask.
Atsumu gives the man his most charming smile. “I could buy ya another one,” he suggests. “How do ya take it?”
The man looks him over. “No.” He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving Atsumu gaping after him.
Rude.
Atsumu glances down at his coffee stained pants and sighs. Nothing to be done about that.
Then again, they’ll probably make him change into a swimsuit or something once he arrives, anyway.
Atsumu doesn’t know much about the short introduction he’s supposed to film for the first ever Love Island Japan. Actually, he knows next to nothing about Love Island, period. It wasn’t as if it was even his idea to enter. Osamu had been the one to suggest Atsumu apply; after all, he’s a broke, single, unemployed, recent college graduate with nothing to do all summer but apply for jobs he’s either immensely under or overqualified for. So, Atsumu thought, why not?
Why not spend the summer in sunny Okinawa, chatting up chicks for the next thirteen weeks? Why not have a chance at winning 5,000,000 yen, or at the very least, becoming a reality tv star? Atsumu doesn’t want to sell out, but he’s a literal starving artist, so if this can get him somewhere, then who is he to pass up such an opportunity?
Atsumu makes it to the gate just as first class is boarding. He takes a seat near the window and waits his turn to board. Now that he’s here, he feels guilty for leaving the mess of coffee on the floor for someone else to clean. Then again, it was really only half his fault that it spilled. Sure, Atsumu hadn’t been looking around him, and sure, he’s a bit of a klutz, but even so, Atsumu finds it hard to believe that the man would have run into him if he weren’t equally distracted.
A few minutes later, Atsumu’s seat number is called to board. He offers up his boarding pass and ID to the flight attendant standing at the podium before following the line of people into the tunnel. The line moves forward haltingly as the people who have already boarded slowly seat themselves, and Atsumu’s legs are aching by the time he steps over the threshold and onto the airplane.
Atsumu would never admit that he hates flying, but he does. He really does. There’s not a single comfortable aspect of being on an airplane--the crowds, the tiny seats, the changing elevation that hurts his ears--and the novelty of the whole ordeal had worn off years ago.
Atsumu sighs when he finally reaches his seat. He stows his bag in the overhead bin before sliding into the window seat. The sky is overcast, and raindrops race each other down the window, leaving behind blurred streaks that make the outside world look the way it did before Atsumu got contacts.
He’s so busy staring out the window that he doesn’t notice the man standing in the aisle next to Atsumu’s row until he clears his throat. Atsumu turns to face the aisle and freezes. It’s the man from before, and he looks every bit as annoyed as he did when Atsumu--no, when he spilled his coffee on Atsumu, because that’s what happened.
“Whaddya want,” Atsumu says dismissively.
The man bristles. “You’re in my seat,” he states, voice cold.
Atsumu frowns. “This is my seat.”
“No, it’s mine,” the man says impatiently, thrusting his boarding pass into Atsumu’s face. The seat listed on the pass is 21 A.
Atsumu checks his seat’s number and curses. He could have sworn he’d gotten the window seat. He turns back to the man and says, “Look. I thought it was mine, an’ I’m all settled in now. Can’t ya jus’ take my seat?”
The man’s brow wrinkles. “I am not sitting in the middle seat,” he says firmly. “Move.”
Atsumu glares at the man as he stands and shuffles into the aisle, backpack in hand. Once Atsumu’s entirely out of the way, the man steps past him stiffly, taking his--no, Atsumu’s-- seat.
Atsumu scowls before taking the middle seat, shoving his backpack unceremoniously under the seat in front of him. “Why’d ya need that seat so badly, anyway,” he grumbles, not really expecting a response.
“I don’t like touching people,” the man says after a moment, “and this way I only have to touch one person instead of two.”
The explanation’s reasonable enough, but it’s got nothing on Atsumu’s extreme motion sickness.
“Whatever,” Atsumu mumbles, already dreading the migraine that will likely follow the first bout of turbulence. Though sitting by a window doesn’t solve all of his problems, it at least helps ease the pressure in his head to have something steady to focus on.
The man remains silent after that, to Atsumu’s relief. He’s not sure he could keep up a conversation right now, as the anxiety of the imminent takeoff looms in Atsumu’s peripheral.
Atsumu digs his headphones out of his bag and puts his 2000’s American pop playlist on shuffle before leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes. At some point the seat on his other side is occupied by an elderly woman, and shortly after that Atsumu hears an announcement about their departure crackle over the loudspeakers.
He grips the armrest as the plane begins to move, staring over the man’s head to see out the window as they slowly cross the runway. The plane pauses just before the longest stretch, and Atsumu braces himself for takeoff.
Then, the plane jolts forward once again. As it picks up speed, Atsumu faintly hears the woman on his right ask him if he’s feeling all right, but Atsumu’s too preoccupied trying not to be sick to respond.
The moment the plane leaves the ground, Atsumu takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on the receding ground. He can’t even hear his music over the blood pounding in his ears, so it takes him a moment to figure out that the man is trying to talk to him.
“Huh?” Atsumu says finally, tearing off his headphones.
“What’s wrong,” the man says bluntly.
Atsumu swallows. “Nothin’. I jus’...don’ like flyin’ much, I guess,” he says, chuckling weakly.
The man squints at him. “If you sit by the window,” he says slowly, “would it stop...this?” He gestures at Atsumu, who probably looks like a wreck.
“No,” Atsumu admits, “not entirely.”
“But it would help?”
“Sure,” Atsumu says. “Ya don’ have ta, though--”
The man’s already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Get up,” he orders Atsumu, and Atsumu obeys, eyes wide. The swap is awkward, with Atsumu nearly in the man’s lap as he scrambles into the window seat, but somehow it works. Once they’re settled, Atsumu says, “Thanks. Ya kinda saved me.”
The man rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says grudgingly.
“What’s yer name?” Atsumu blurts. He’s not really sure why he asked, but he just feels like he should know.
The man hesitates before saying, “Sakusa Kiyoomi. You?”
“Miya Atsumu,” Atsumu replies. “So what brings ya ta Okinawa, then, Omi-kun?”
Sakusa scowls. “Don’t call me that.”
Atsumu pouts. “Why not? Yer names kinda a mouthful, if ya don’ mind me sayin’.”
“I do mind. Call me Sakusa or just don’t say my name, I don’t care,” Sakusa retorts.
“No can do, Omi. Are ya gonna answer my question?”
“I’m going for a work thing,” Sakusa says abruptly.
“Ah,” Atsumu says, “Nice. What do ya do?”
“I’m an editor.”
“That’s cool!” Atsumu says. “So ya probably like ta read then, huh?”
Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Almost as much as you like to talk, probably.”
Atsumu grins. “Ya got me there!” Sakusa doesn’t reply, and Atsumu turns back to the window for a moment, watching as the plane passes through the clouds, coming out on top. The sun is fully up by now, lighting up the layer condensation on the window. Atsumu’s stomach feels calmer now, and his head barely aches, so he decides he might as well update his portfolio. He has yet to upload images of his thesis, along with several other projects he’d completed towards the end of the year.
He gets out his laptop and pulls up his portfolio. As he waits for the images to upload, he glances over at Sakusa. He’s reading a book that Atsumu doesn’t recognize. He squints at the page, trying to guess what genre it is, and finds that it’s not any language he recognizes.
“I can feel you staring, Miya,” Sakusa says suddenly, causing Atsumu to start. “Spit it out.”
“What language is that?” Atsumu blurts curiously.
“Russian,” Sakusa replies.
Atsumu’s eyes widen. “Ya speak Russian?”
“No, but I’m teaching myself,” Sakusa explains.
“Ah. How’s that goin’ fer ya?”
Sakusa pauses. “Not bad,” he says. Then he adds, “It’d be a whole lot easier if the guy sitting next to me would shut up for more than two seconds.”
“Ouch, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, feigning hurt. “Is it really so bad ta be curious?”
“You know, there’s a saying about curiosity,” Sakusa starts.
“What, the cat one?” Atsumu interrupts.
“No. ‘Curious people are the first to die in horror movies’,” Sakusa informs him.
“So we’re in a horror movie now, huh?” Atsumu muses.
“We will be if you don’t shut up,” Sakusa grumbles.
Atsumu grins. “Don’tcha wanna know what I’m workin’ on?”
“Not really, but I suppose you’ll show me anyway,” Sakusa says, sounding resigned. He closes his book and sets it on the table, turning his attention to Atsumu.
“Well,” Atsumu begins, “currently I’m jus’ updatin’ my portfolio, ya know, ta help with job applications n’ such.”
“What kind of portfolio?” Sakusa says curiously.
“Comm D,” Atsumu explains. “‘S my major. Well, was. ‘M technically a grad now, I guess.”
“What school did you attend?”
“Tokyo University of the Arts,” Atsumu tells him.
“That’s a good school,” Sakusa says, sounding surprised.
“Well, yeah,” Atsumu says proudly. “What, ya think I’m not smart or somethin’?”
“Yes,” Sakusa says bluntly.
“Rude, Omi!” Atsumu whines. “I’m a freakin’ genius. Well, I kinda suck at math, and also science, and English, and maybe Japanese lit isn’t exactly good, but it’s not awful-- hey, what’re ya laughin’ at!”
Sakusa snorts. “Pretty sure you just covered every subject.”
“Oh, so yer not a big supporter of the arts then, huh?” Atsumu retorts. “I’ll have ya know, I got a 95 in my Art History course last semester, and 97 in Comm D and Art direction, so. Fuck off.”
“Good to know you’re not entirely useless,” Sakusa comments.
“Shaddup,” Atsumu mumbles.
Sakusa shrugs. “Just being honest. Now are you going to show me your portfolio or can I go back to reading my book?”
Atsumu perks up at that. “Oh, yeah!” He angles his laptop so that Sakusa can see. The page displays his most recent work, a faux ad campaign for a product that doesn’t exist. A complicated looking gadget takes up most of the page, sketches from various angles displaying the interior, with bold, bright letters spelling out the brand name.
“It’s a coffee machine with a grinder attached,” Atsumu explains. “So that ya can do it all in one. It’s fake, obviously, but I had fun makin’ it, so.”
“You drew this?” Sakusa says, sounding surprised.
“Yep,” Atsumu says proudly.
“This is good,” Sakusa admits, scanning the details. Then he frowns. “You really couldn’t come up with a better name than ‘Rise and Grind’?”
Atsumu grimaces. “Yeah, that was kinda the weak point of my presentation.”
“I can see that,” says Sakusa, studying the font Atsumu used. “Did you create this font?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu admits, rubbing his neck. “We didn’t have ta, but I couldn’ find one that really fit the graphics.”
Sakusa nods. “Good choice.”
“Thanks. I jus’ wanted ta do something not-minimalist, ya know? Minimalism’s destroyin’ the graphic design industry,” Atsumu rants, “an’ no one seems ta care except fer the few artists who don’ end up selling out.”
Says the artist who’s selling out, the voice in his head says, but Atsumu ignores it.
“Well,” Sakusa comments, “I think you managed to stay away from minimalism, that’s for sure.”
Atsumu grins. “Thanks, Omi.”
“Don’t call me that.”
The plane jumps suddenly, and Atsumu’s hand flies to his mouth. “Fuck,” he mumbles, slamming his laptop shut.
“Don’t you dare puke on me,” Sakusa warns.
“I won’,” Atsumu promises, voice muffled by his hand, but he pulls out the barf bag supplied by the airline just in case. The plane jolts again, and Atsumu feels a spike of pain go through his head. He takes deep, slow breaths, glancing out the window in hopes that it will help settle his stomach. He fixes his gaze on a stationary cloud until the bout of turbulence passes.
When the plane finally stills, Atsumu says, faintly, “I think ‘m gonna nap fer a bit.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Sakusa agrees. “Thanks for showing me your work.”
“Thanks fer lettin’ me,” Atsumu says with a smile. He leans back into the seat, wishing he’d thought to steal Osamu’s airplane pillow.
The slow movements of the plane lull him to sleep before long. Atsumu dreams that he’s giving his thesis presentation again, except this time he’s in a swimsuit, and there’s a film crew present. When he finishes the presentation, all of the questions directed at him are about his reasons for participating in Love Island. Atsumu’s confused for a moment before he realizes that he’s actually on a beach, and when he turns to look at his professor, he’s been turned into Sakusa, who’s staring at him disapprovingly. “Wake up, Miya ,” he says, and then, “ Miya, you’re drooling on me.” It takes Atsumu a moment to figure out that the voice isn’t coming from his dream.
He jolts awake, finding his head cushioned by something bony.
“We’re about to land,” Sakusa says as Atsumu lifts his head. To his extreme mortification, he finds that he was asleep on Sakusa’s shoulder.
“Shit,” he blurts, “‘M sorry ‘bout that.”
Sakusa rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. It was only a couple of hours. Besides, you kept falling over, and it was kind of pathetic.”
“Thanks, I guess?” Atsumu says.
“Sure. You should probably get your things together now,” Sakusa points out.
“Right,” Atsumu says, shaking his head to wake himself up. He shoves his laptop into his backpack and grabs a pack of mint gum.
“Want some?” He says, offering the gum to Sakusa.
“Thanks,” says Sakusa, taking a piece. “I hate landings.”
“They’re the worst,” Atsumu agrees. He shoves the gum in his mouth, chewing vigorously as they begin to lose altitude. He grips the armrest on his left, staring out the window as the plane tips to the side. Atsumu hates this part. He always imagines that the side of the plane will give way, and he’ll go flying out the side. He double checks his seatbelt, which is securely fastened, thank god.
“Miya,” says Sakusa, breaking into his restless thoughts, “why are you going to Okinawa?”
He’s trying to distract me, Atsumu realizes. “Uh,” he says, not really sure how to answer. He has a feeling that Sakusa wouldn’t understand his reasons for participating in Love Island. “Jus’ visitin’ a friend,” he says vaguely. “Might be there a while, dependin’ on whether I end up findin’ a job anytime soon.”
Sakusa nods as if he understands. “I graduated last year, so I know how that is.”
“Nice,” says Atsumu. “How’d ya get the one ya got now?”
“Through my cousin,” Sakusa explains. “He works as an art museum guide in Tokyo.”
“Oh, neat,” says Atsumu. “Which museum?”
“National Museum of Modern Art,” Sakusa supplies.
“That’s sick!” Atsumu exclaims. “I’ve been there a lot, fer field trips an’ such.”
“You’ve probably encountered him at some point, then,” Sakusa says.
“Probably.” Atsumu flinches as the plane tips again, this time forward. He hadn’t noticed how close they were to the ground, but now that he’s looking, he can see cars zooming along the highway, and palm trees rising above colorful rooftops. “Woah,” he murmurs, captivated by the view. Sakusa peers out the window as well. “Looks like we’re almost done,” he observes.
Atsumu feels a pang of regret, knowing that he’ll probably never see Sakusa again. He considers asking for his number, but eventually decides against it. Even if Sakusa were willing to give it to him, it’s not as if Atsumu would be able to text or see him anytime in the next three months, anyway.
Once the plane touches down, the force of the landing pushes Atsumu against his seat, rattling his teeth and releasing the pressure built up in his ears all at once. It’s an awful feeling, but at least it’s over now.
The plane slows to a steady roll before parking beside the airport. As it jolts to a stop, the overhead speakers crackle, announcing their arrival. Atsumu shoulders his backpack and stands, Sakusa following him up, and they grab their bags from the overhead bins a few minutes later.
They leave the plane together and head to the baggage claim in silence. Once they’ve retrieved their luggage, Sakusa turns to Atsumu. “It was nice talking to you, I guess.”
Atsumu grins. “Aw, Omi,” he teases, “I knew yer secretly a softie.”
Sakusa frowns. “I take it back.”
“Too late!” Atsumu sings. “Anyway, I hope ya have a good trip. Who knows, maybe we’ll see each other on the plane ride back or somethin’,” he adds with a wink.
“Maybe,” Sakusa replies. “Bye, Miya.”
“See ya, Omi,” Atsumu says, waving at Sakusa as he disappears into the crowd. Atsumu glances at his phone, finding that he has only two hours to make it to the studio. Lucky for him, it’s only a fifty minute drive away. Atsumu heads outside and flags down a taxi, loading his bags into the back before passing over the studio’s address. He’ll be staying the night at a nearby hotel after filming the promo, and the following day he’ll be heading to the villa. Atsumu’s excited to see the place where he’ll be staying. Apparently it’s right on the beach, and from what he’s heard, it’s a pretty luxurious place.
He reaches the studio an hour before filming starts, which is good, seeing as he still has to get changed. Atsumu picks out his swimsuit and gets his face made up--not that he thinks it’s necessary, but apparently it’s mandatory--before taking a seat on a colorful stool in front of a green screen.
The questions for the interview are fairly simple, and Atsumu answers with confidence. they ask for his age, profession, and reasons for taking part, mainly. It’s eerily reminiscent of his dream, except there’s no Comm D critique involved, and Sakusa is (unfortunately) not present.
The promo only takes about an hour to film, and then Atsumu is free to go. He crashes as soon as he gets to his hotel room, falling into a restless sleep.
~
The following morning Atsumu wakes up groggy and out of it. He eats breakfast at the hotel, downing far more coffee than he should, before heading back to his room to grab his bags. He changes into a swimsuit and patterned shirt that he wears unbuttoned, as well as a brand new pair of flip flops. Atsumu hates flip flops on principle, but he has to admit they serve their purpose well. Once he’s dressed and ready, he brings his bags downstairs to wait by the curb.
The car that comes to pick him up is a freaking convertible. The driver holds a sign with his name on it, which is a first for Atsumu, and greets him with a friendly smile.
“I’m sure you’ve been briefed on the conditions of the villa,” the man says as he loads Atsumu’s bags into the trunk. “You will be filmed from the moment the car nears the villa until the completion of the show, or whenever it is that you leave.”
“I understand,” Atsumu says solemnly.
“Good. Try not to pay attention to the cameras, except for when you’re being interviewed directly. They’re actually pretty subtle most of the time, so they’re not too hard to ignore.”
“Got it,” Atsumu confirms.
“Great. Let’s get going, then,” the man says with a smile, and Atsumu smiles back, excitement brewing in his stomach.
The drive is fairly quick, and it’s not long before Atsumu glimpses the villa rising up from behind a grove of palm trees. Shortly after that, Atsumu notices cameras posted on either side of the long, ending driveway that he takes care to ignore.
As the villa comes into sight, Atsumu can’t suppress a small gasp. It’s practically a mansion, and the largest residence he’s seen in a long time, if not ever.
Atsumu leaves his bags in the car once they’re parked, the man assuring him that they’ll be brought inside soon. The man then directs him to the back entrance of the villa, telling him that staff members will be waiting to give him further instruction.
The staff get him a mic and hand him a cell phone that can only be used to contact the other islanders. After quickly going over the protocol of the first day, they direct him to the doorway leading out to the spacious backyard. Atsumu catches a glimpse of five women lined up beside the pool, two of them with guys next to them. His eyes stall on one woman in particular. She’s already in a couple, it seems, but damn. Her hair is silver, flowing nearly to her waist, and her face is perfect.
“You’ll be walking out in three, two…” The voice beside him interrupts his thoughts. Atsumu starts, readying himself with a deep, calm breath.
“One!”
Atsumu strolls out the door, shooting the host a confident smile. She’s tall, with a mischievous smile and short, choppy blond hair. She’s dressed in a bottle green sequined jumpsuit that Atsumu approves of, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous . “Hey,” he greets as he approaches the host.
“Hey there! I’m Tanaka Saeko, but you can call me Saeko,” she says enthusiastically.
“Nice ta meet ya, Saeko,” Atsumu says brightly. “‘M Miya Atsumu.”
“Well, Atsumu,” Saeko says, “welcome to Love Island Japan 2021. As you can see, we’ve already got a couple of couples, but every girl here is free game.”
“What about the guys?” Atsumu jokes.
Saeko laughs. “Every one here,” she corrects with a grin. “So up to you. But before you choose, I am going to ask these lovely ladies to step forward if they are interested in you. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu says, a tad nervous.
“So,” Saeko continues, “if any of you are interested in coupling up with Atsumu, please take a step forward.”
There’s a moment of silence in which Atsumu holds his breath. Then, to his immense surprise, three girls step forward.
The first is the girl on the far end. She’s got reddish brown hair and choppy bangs, and her smile is shy. The second girl is taller than the first, with short, dark brown hair.
The third girl is the one that catches Atsumu’s eye.
It’s the silver haired girl he’d noticed before. Her face is even prettier up close, her eyes wide and green and her skin practically glowing in the early afternoon sunlight.
“Wow!” Saeko remarks delightedly. “Looks like someone’s a hot commodity!”
Atsumu rubs his neck sheepishly. “Guess so.”
“So, Atsumu,” Saeko says, “keep in mind that you can choose any of these girls, whether or not they stepped forward, and whether or not they’re already coupled up. So, who’s it gonna be?”
Atsumu hesitates for a moment before gesturing at the silver haired girl. “This lovely lady righ’ here,” he says decisively.
“That would be Alisa,” Saeko informs him.
Atsumu grins, walking around the side of the pool to stand at Alisa’s side. She smiles at him and gives him a short hug. “Nice ta meet ya, Alisa,” Atsumu says.
“Likewise, Atsumu,” says Alisa. Even her voice is pretty.
“So, Koganegawa,” Saeko says, and Atsumu’s attention turns to the blond guy on the other side of Alisa. “How does it feel to have your girl stolen?”
Saeko, Atsumu decides, is absolutely an instigator, and Atsumu is loving it.
“Not great, but I’ll bounce back,” the other guy says confidently. “Best of luck keeping her, dude,” he adds to Atsumu.
“Thanks, man,” Atsumu says with a smile.
“Koganegawa, you can now join me over here on the subs bench,” Saeko tells him. Koganegawa goes around the pool and takes a seat on a lounge chair. “Now, Atsumu,” Saeko says, eyes twinkling, “how are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, I’d say,” Atsumu says with a grin.
“And you, Alisa?” Saeko prompts.
“Good,” Alisa replies. “Thanks.”
“Great!” Says Saeko. “Time for our next boy!”
The next boy who comes out is tall, at least as tall as Atsumu, with unruly black, spiky hair. Atsumu’s not sure whether it’s actually just bedhead or a carefully curated hairstyle, but whatever it is, it looks good.
“Hey,” the guy greets Saeko. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“Saeko!” Chirps Saeko. “Nice to meet you, Kuroo. As you can see, there are still three remaining single girls. But keep in mind, you can couple up with whoever you want, even if they’re already in a couple.”
“Got it,” says Kuroo with a shark like grin.
“Great! So before you decide, I am going to ask these ladies to step forward if they like the look of you. Sound good?”
“Sure,” says Kuroo amicably.
“All right then,” Saeko announces, “if you fancy this man, step on forward!”
Two girls step forward. One is the reddish brown haired girl who’d stepped forward for Atsumu. The second is a girl with a long, ash brown ponytail.
Kuroo ends up choosing the girl with the reddish brown hair, coming over to stand beside her. He grins at Atsumu as he passes by, and Atsumu grins back. He has a good feeling about Kuroo.
The fifth and final guy to come out is Konoha. He chooses ponytail girl, leaving short haired girl and Koganegawa to couple up.
“Now,” Saeko says, rubbing her hands together gleefully, “this wouldn't be Love Island without some good ole’ fashioned rivalry, am I right? So, let’s all give a warm welcome to...Oikawa Tooru!”
Oikawa strolls into the yard, joining Saeko at the front. He’s tall, with wavy brown hair and a charming white smile, and Atsumu hates him on sight.
“Hello!” Oikawa chirps to Saeko.
“Welcome to Love Island, Oikawa!” Says Saeko. She turns to the others and says, “In 24 hours, Oikawa will be stealing one of your girls. He can choose whoever he wants, and will be coupled up with them until the next recoupling, when the girl can decide to stick or split. Everyone got that?”
The islanders nod.
“Great!” Saeko exclaims. “I’m gonna head out, take this time to get to know each other and I’ll see you all tomorrow night!”
The islanders wave goodbye, and then it’s just Atsumu, a bunch of strangers, and a giant, unfamiliar villa.
Atsumu turns to Alisa. “So,” he says with a smile, “would ya like ta have a chat?”
“That sounds lovely,” Alisa replies. “Where do you want to go?”
“How ‘bout over here,” Atsumu suggests, leading Alisa to an alcove in the wall across the lawn. He feels a brief pang of guilt for ignoring the other islanders--he does want to make friends, after all--but it looks as if all of them had the same idea. They’re split into pairs, except for Oikawa, who’s third wheeling Kuroo’s couple.
Atsumu draws his eyes back to Alisa. “So,” he says, “what brings ya ta Love Island?”
“Well,” Alisa starts, “I usually work as a model, and my job keeps me pretty busy, so it’s hard to find time to date. This just seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up, you know?”
“I get that,” Atsumu agrees easily.
“So what do you do?”
“I actually just graduated from Tokyo University of the Arts with a BFA in Comm D,” he tells her. “So, graphic design, basically.”
“That’s so cool!” Alisa gushes. “I’m always been into art, I used to paint when I was younger but I kind of dropped it after I started modeling.”
“Ya know, modelin’ is kinda an art,” Atsumu says thoughtfully. “If ya really think ‘bout it.”
“I think so, too,” Alisa says, nodding. “So are you from Tokyo, then?”
“I’m originally from Amagasaki,” Atsumu tells her, “but I live in Tokyo fer the time bein’, yeah.”
“That’s great!” Alisa says enthusiastically. “Hyogo is so beautiful, I’ve only been to that area once but I still remember how much I loved the nature there.”
“Yeah, it’s really pretty,” Atsumu says wistfully. “Tokyo’s not too bad, I guess. I think if I could choose ta live anywhere, though, it’d be Osaka. Might start lookin’ fer jobs there, or somethin’.”
“Osaka’s a cool city,” Alisa agrees. “I’m in Tokyo for the time being, too, but I’ve considered moving to Sendai. The mountains up there are gorgeous.”
“They really are!” Says Atsumu. “An’ the biodiversity’s pretty cool, too.”
Alisa opens her mouth to respond, and that’s when Oikawa makes his grand entrance. “Yoo-hoo!” He sings. “How are you lovely people today?” He eyes Atsumu as if sizing him up before blatantly checking out Alisa.
“We’re good!” Alisa says cheerfully. “How are you?”
“Great, thanks for asking!” Oikawa says with a wide, fake looking smile.
Smarmy bitch.
“Alisa, you wouldn’t mind if I stole you away for a moment, would you?” Oikawa says, simpering.
“Not at all!” Says Alisa. “Is that all right with you, Atsumu?”
“Sure,” Atsumu says, forcing himself to smile at Oikawa. “Catch y’all later.”
Oikawa leads Alisa across the yard to the patio, while Atsumu sits there, fuming. How dare that jerk butt into his conversation like that? He’s clearly out to get Atsumu, that much is clear.
Atsumu grits his teeth and heads over to where the others have begun to congregate. Kuroo spots him first, giving him a friendly wave.
“Atsumu, right?” Kuroo checks as Atsumu approaches.
“Yep!” Atsumu says, giving him a genuine smile. “Kuroo?”
“That’s me,” says Kuroo. He jerks his head at Oikawa and Alisa. “He really just did that, huh?”
Atsumu makes a face. “I can’t say I’m surprised, really,” he says.
“Me neither,” Kuroo agrees. “That guy’s trouble, I can tell.”
“Definitely,” says Atsumu. “So what brings ya ta Love Island?”
Kuroo shrugs. “My job keeps me pretty busy. It’s hard to date unless I take time off, so I thought, why not?”
“I feel ya,” says Atsumu. “What do ya do?”
“I work for the National Volleyball Association,” Kuroo tells him.
“That’s so cool!” Atsumu exclaims.
“It’s all right,” says Kuroo. “What about you?”
“I’m a recent college grad,” Atsumu explains. “Graphic design.”
“Oh, neat,” says Kuroo. “You in Tokyo?”
“Fer the time bein’, yeah,” says Atsumu.
“You should totally come work for our advertising department,” Kuroo says enthusiastically. “They’re always looking for qualified designers.”
“That’d be cool! Wanna be my reference?” Says Atsumu.
“Of course,” says Kuroo. He glances over at Oikawa and Alisa, who are still talking, and says, “What do you think he does?”
“Prob’ly a used car salesman,” Atsumu says dismissively.
Kuroo snorts. “I can see it.”
Before long they’re joined by the rest of the group. Atsumu learns that Kuroo’s partner is Mika, while ponytail girl’s name is Mao. She’s with Konoha, Koganegawa’s with Michimiya--the girl with the short brown hair--and the final couple consists of Kunimi, a tall, quiet guy, and Yachi, a nervous looking, short blond girl. They’re an interesting combination, Atsumu thinks. He never would have put them together, but they’re surprisingly cute together. If not for the fact that Atsumu’s 90% sure both of them are gay in the wrong direction, they’d probably work pretty well.
“Should we explore the villa?” Michimiya suggests. She’s a bit shy as well, but in a different way. She’s not self conscious, exactly, but she’s not very confident either.
“Let’s do it!” Koganegawa says excitedly. “Hey, Kunimi, I’ll race you to the bedroom!” Koganegawa takes off, while Kunimi doesn’t move an inch.
“Are you going to follow him?” Says Kuroo, sounding amused.
“No,” Kunimi states. “You’re welcome to, though.”
Kuroo grins before turning towards the villa. “C’mon, y’all!” He says. “This’ll be fun.” He heads towards the patio, the others trailing behind him. When they get to where Oikawa and Alisa are seated, Atsumu says, “Howdy, partner! Wanna come with?”
“Where are you going?” Alisa says, getting to her feet.
“Just to explore,” Kuroo explains. He turns to Oikawa. “You should come, too!”
Oikawa smiles slowly. “I’d love to! What did you say your name was?”
“Kuroo,” Kuroo says.
“I’m Atsumu,” Atsumu chimes in.
Oikawa’s lip curls as he looks Atsumu up and down. “I love your shirt!” He gushes.
Atsumu narrows his eyes. It is a good shirt, but something tells him Oikawa’s not being sincere.
“Thanks,” he says, forcing another smile. “You’ve got great hair.”
Oikawa bats his eyelashes. “I know.”
Kuroo coughs. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Atsumu mutters to him. Kuroo snickers, and Atsumu starts at the sound. “Ya laugh like a damn hyena, Kuroo,” he says, snorting.
“So I’ve been told,” Kuroo says, leading them into the villa. The others had already gone inside, Atsumu realizes. They find them soon enough, poking around in their respective changing rooms. Their clothing has already been moved in, it seems. Atsumu moves onto the bedroom. “Damn,” he says, looking around. He counts sixteen beds total. Since when were there 32 of us?
Alisa comes up next to him, and Atsumu slings an arm over her shoulders. “Where d’ya wanna sleep, sweetheart?”
Alisa giggles. “Maybe near the window? It’s a nice view,” she adds. The window overlooks the yard, with a faint view of the ocean beyond a grove of palm trees.
“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” Atsumu agrees.
They continue exploring the villa, locating the bathrooms, and the kitchen (which is actually outside on the far end of the patio) as well as the small interview room, which contains a single loveseat and is intended for face to face sessions only.
Just as they get back out onto the patio, there’s a faint ding from Oikawa’s pocket. He looks surprised as he pulls out the phone, excited once he sees the screen.
“I got a text!” He yells. The other islanders gather around him as he reads, “Oikawa, today you will date two girls of your choice. Please get ready for your first date.
#firstimpressions #makeasplash”
Oikawa looks up from the phone and scrutinizes the girls. Then he says, “I’ll date Mao and Alisa, if that’s all right with you ladies!”
“Fine by me,” says Mao, sounding vaguely bored.
“Me too,” says Alisa enthusiastically.
“All righty, then,” says Okawa with a smile. “I’m going to go get ready.”
Oikawa heads to the dressing room alone, followed by all of the girls, who presumably want to help Alisa and Mao get ready for the date.
“Well, this sucks,” Atsumu says into the silence that follows.
“Yeah, we’re pretty much screwed,” Konoha agrees.
“What do we do now?” Koganegawa wonders.
“I think we just wait for them to return and then they tell us how the dates went,” Kuroo says, sounding apologetic.
“I’m gonna go nap,” Kunimi says, leaving without another word.
“Kunimi wait! I’ll come keep you company!” Koganegawa yells, taking off after him.
“Poor Kunimi,” Konoha says, sounding amused.
Atsumu chuckles. “I think Kogane-kun imprinted on him,” he says.
“Definitely,” Kuroo agrees.
Oikawa and the girls return shortly, dressed nicely but casually in shorts and sundresses.
“See you all later!” Says Oikawa, giving the group a wide smile before leaving, Mao and Alisa in tow.
“I wonder if they’re all going to be on a date at the same time, or if one of them will have to wait around the corner or something,” Kuroo muses.
Atsumu snickers. “Probably the latter,” he says.
“Who do you guys think he’s going to choose?” Says Konoha.
“Alisa,” say Kuroo and Atsumu at the same time.
“Probably,” Konoha agrees. “I feel like Mao wasn’t all that interested, anyway.”
“Yeah, I got that vibe too,” Kuroo says.
“I’m fucked,” Atsumu says mournfully. “‘M gonna be the first one dumped from Love Island.”
“Don’t worry, bro,” Kuroo says, slapping him on the back. “If it comes down to you and Mika, I’ll save you.”
“Thanks, bro,” Atsumu says gratefully.
“‘Course. Bros before hoes,” Kuroo says solemnly.
“Gay,” mumbles Konoha.
“In the meantime,” Kuroo continues, “want to go in the pool?”
“Hell yeah,” says Atsumu, perking up a bit at that.
“Sure,” says Konoha.
The three of them float around the pool for the next hour. They’re the only ones still in the yard, so they’re the first to see Oikawa, Alisa and Mao return.
“Yoo-hoo!” Oikawa trills. He comes over to the pool, staring smugly down at Konoha, Kuroo and Atsumu while Alisa and Mao presumably go to find the other girls.
“How was it?” Atsumu says, just to be polite.
“They were both great,” Oikawa gushes, starry eyed. “Wonderful girls. It’s going to be a hard decision tomorrow, certainly.”
“Great,” mutters Konoha. To Oikawa he says, “I’m glad you had fun.”
“Me too,” Oikawa agrees. Then he frowns. “Where’s the other blond and the sullen dude?”
“Upstairs,” Atsumu supplies.
“Oh, well,” Oikawa says, shrugging. “I suppose I can get them up to date later.”
Eventually the girls come back downstairs. Mao goes to update Konoha, while Alisa beelines for Atsumu.
“Can we talk?” Is the first thing she says.
“Of course!” Atsumu says, forcing a smile.
“Let’s go over here,” Alisa suggests, bringing them over to one of the many beds spread out throughout the patio.
Once they’ve settled in, Atsumu says, “So, I heard the date went well.”
“So well,” Alisa says dreamily, and Atsumu knows then that he’s already lost her. “Oikawa’s amazing.” Then she focuses on Atsumu. “I don’t want to stop getting to know you,” she says.
But.
“But,” she continues, “I’d like to get to know him, too.”
“That’s fine, of course,” Atsumu assures her. “This is love island. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right?”
“Yeah, right,” Alisa says uncertainly.
“Seriously, it’s fine,” Atsumu insists with a smile. “Don’ feel bad, okay?”
Alisa brightens. “Okay. Thanks, Atsumu.”
“Of course,” he replies.
~
An hour later, Atsumu volunteers to help cook dinner, along with Kuroo and Mika.
“Are you good in the kitchen?” Kuroo asks him when they start chopping vegetables about an hour later.
“I’m all right,” Atsumu replies. “My brother owns a restaurant, so I only really know what I picked up from him.”
“That’s cool,” says Kuroo. “Is he older, then?”
“Nah, I am,” Atsumu says. “By five minutes, mind ya.”
Kuroo’s eyes bug out. “You’re a twin?”
“Identical,” Atsumu says, grinning. “He’s not blond, though. He dyes his hair too, but it’s kinda dark grey.”
“Interesting,” murmurs Kuroo. “I have a sister,” he offers. “She’s about four and a half years older than I am, though. Already married and settled down in Tokyo.”
“That’s sweet,” Atsumu says wistfully.
“Yeah. She has a great marriage, too,” he adds, passing Atsumu another carrot. Atsumu takes a break from chopping to check on the rice cooker while Mika and Kuroo begin getting out ingredients for curry. There’s a wide variety of spices to work with at the villa, some of which Atsumu’s never heard of.
“I dunno if I care about marriage, ta be honest,” Atsumu muses aloud. “I mean, I want, like, a life partner, but I don’ need some piece of paper ta say that, ya know? ‘Sides, what if I end up with a dude? ‘S not like I could legally marry him, anyway.”
Kuroo hums. “I get that. I don’t really care about gender when it comes to dating, but figuring out that I was into guys meant realizing that I might never get married. I came to terms with that a while ago.”
Atsumu nods, stirring curry powder, cumin, and chili powder into the pot. “Me too,” he agrees.
They serve up dinner a short while later. Atsumu sits between Alisa and Kuroo and across the table from Michimiya, who’s actually quite nice. Atsumu finds out that she works as a secretary at a law firm, even though her true passion is fashion design.
“I honestly wish I’d been brave enough to try art school,” she admits to Atsumu after he tells her about his own degree. “I was just afraid of having to ‘make it’ as an artist, you know?”
“I feel ya,” Atsumu says. “It’s definitely hard, but it’s nice knowin’ ya got experience doin’ the thing that ya love.”
Oikawa, who’s seated on Alisa’s other side, takes that moment to break into their conversation. “I totally get that,” he enthuses. “I mean, I’ve known my entire life that I wanted to be on tv--”
“Here we go,” Atsumu mutters to Kuroo.
“--but I didn’t really know the details, right? So when I got called in to interview for my job--I’m a weatherman, by the way--I was like, yeah, why not? And it worked out pretty well in the end, I’d say!”
“That’s so cool that you followed your dreams like that,” Alisa gushes, as if Atsumu hadn’t done the exact same thing.
“I mean, I don’t really know how else to live,” Oikawa says with a helpless sort of smile. Atsumu doesn’t trust this guy one bit.
After dinner, The group goes upstairs to freshen up. Atsumu dresses nicely, in dark jeans and a maroon button down. Alisa looks gorgeous in a silvery-blue cocktail dress and heels, and the other islanders all look great as well.
Then Atsumu sees Oikawa, and his jaw drops to the floor.
He’s wearing the ugliest, patterned button down that Atsumu’s ever seen. It’s hot pink and navy blue floral print with lime green lines woven throughout. Worst of all, he paired it with white jeans.
How can such an attractive guy have no idea how to dress? Atsumu wonders as he follows the group downstairs.
There’s champagne awaiting the islanders on the kitchen counter, which Atsumu is quick to open before pouring everyone a glass. He worked as a server at a restaurant for a short while during college, so he’s got some experience opening champagne bottles.
Once everyone’s got a glass, the islanders move to the fire pit, which is located around the side of the villa. Atsumu takes a seat beside Alisa on the semi-circular bench enclosing the fire pit, and Oikawa is quick to take the seat on her other side. Atsumu forces himself to take deep breaths, even though he’d like nothing more than to give Oikawa a piece of his mind.
“We should play truth or dare!” Koganegawa suggests.
“Ooh, yeah!” Alisa enthuses. “Who wants to start?”
“I’ll go,” Oikawa announces, and Atsumu barely refrains from rolling his eyes.
“Okay, Oikawa,” Michimiya starts, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Oikawa says, smiling slyly.
“All right,” says Michimiya, considering for a moment before saying, “Kiss the girl you most want to couple up with right now.”
Oikawa grins. “Sure thing!”
Of course it’s Alisa. Oikawa kisses her passionately, and it’s honestly so gross that Atsumu feels himself gag. Kuroo and Konoha look equally disgusted.
There’s a literal string of spit when Oikawa pulls away. Atsumu feels his nose wrinkle involuntarily, and it’s a real effort to school his expression.
“Okie dokie,” Oikawa says pleasantly as he takes a seat on Alisa’s other side. “Who wants to go next?”
“Me,” Atsumu announces before he can stop himself.
Oikawa smiles slowly. “Truth or dare, Tsum-chan?”
Atsumu makes a face at the childish nickname. “Dare,” he decides.
Oikawa hums. “Trade outfits with a girl of your choice.”
“Damn, Oikawa, if ya wanted ta see me in a dress, ya could've jus’ asked,” Atsumu teases. He glances around, eyes catching on Mao. She’s pretty tall, and her dress looks stretchy enough to accommodate Atsumu.
“Mao,” he says, “let’s do this.
“Whatever,” Mao says, stripping off her dress. Atsumu takes off his pants and shirt, passing them over to Mao, before pulling on her dress. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but it fits all right, and it looks damn good, too.
Kuroo whistles. “Nice, Tsumu!” He says appreciatively.
Atsumu winks at him. “This is pretty comfy, actually,” he says to Mao.
“Yeah, I don’t fuck around with uncomfortable clothing,” Mao tells him.
“Good choice,” Atsumu remarks. He takes his seat beside Alisa, noting that she’s already sitting closer to Oikawa than she is to Atsumu.
Next up is Yachi. “Truth or dare?” Atsumu asks her with a smile.
“T-truth,” Yachi stammers.
“Okay, Yachi,” says Atsumu, racking his brain for a question that won’t make her uncomfortable. “What was your worst date?”
Yachi grimaces. “It was this guy I met in my art history course back in high school. He talked about Robert Smithson’s ‘ Spiral Getty’ for half an hour. I told him I had to go to the bathroom and paid a staff member to let me out the back door before the food even arrived.”
Atsumu cackles. “No way,” he says, “he’s obsessed with that geezer? Red flag right there, baby.”
“Right?” Yachi agrees.
The rest of the group looks confused.
“What’s a spiral getty?” Atsumu hears Alisa whisper to Oikawa.
“No idea,” Oikawa whispers back.
Yachi dares Mao to give Konoha a lap dance, which she does halfheartedly. Then Mao dares Koganegawa to jump in the pool, and Koganegawa asks Kunimi his favorite color, which is brown. Sometime around then the islanders begin to get tired, and eventually Koganegawa, who’s still soaking wet, says, “Hey guys, I think I’m gonna go get ready for bed.”
The rest of the group follows Koganegawa inside and prepares for bed. Atsumu gets to his and Alisa’s bed first, climbing beneath the covers.
When Alisa enters the bedroom, she goes straight to Oikawa’s bed to talk with him before coming over to Atsumu. Atsumu catches Kuroo’s eye across the room, and Kuroo winces in sympathy before cuddling up to Mika.
Eventually the lights go out, and Atsumu rolls onto his side, forcing his eyes shut. He wonders if coming here was a mistake. He wonders why he let Osamu talk him into doing this. He’d never say it out loud, but he misses his brother. Even though they’re not always together these days, this is the longest Atsumu’s ever gone without talking to him.
Atsumu drifts into dreams of a giant Oikawa standing over him. Giant Oikawa lifts him up and scrutinizes him. “ You’re worthless,” he says before drop kicking Atsumu into the pool. As Atsumu sinks into the depths, he sees Sakusa’s face peering at him through the flurry of bubbles rising to the surface.
“ What are you doing?” Sakusa says.
Atsumu doesn’t know.