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Atsumu had never been one for pre-game jitters. Instead, he’d be buzzing with excitement. Buzzing because he got to play — with Osamu, he got to play volleyball. Two of the most important things in his life, and he got to do them together.
There was no way he couldn’t be excited and besides, what was there to worry about? Losing? No, there’d be plenty more games to play with ‘Samu. He wasn’t worried about that.
He wasn’t worried about anything. But he was picky about how his teammates played.
He wanted nothing but the best. He strived for it himself; hours and days of repeating serves and tosses and receives till they were perfect. Till no one could complain about them — about him.
If anyone dared accuse him of a poor toss, well that was on them. He knew how much work and effort had gone into each and every one of his sets.
Him and only him. No one else.
Even Osamu would admit it. He would admit that Atsumu worked hard, he put in the effort to get to where he was, and nothing was going to stop him. Now, Atsumu could only move up. He could only get better.
At least, that was what he thought.
When Osamu came to him saying that he would quit, Atsumu was devastated.
It was like a bomb had been placed in his heart and he could explode at any moment — the bomb was an act of war.
There was no way that Osamu was quitting. Surely it was a joke, they’d played together since childhood and ‘Samu wouldn’t just give that up.
Wrong, why wouldn’t he give it up? What does he have to lose? He has more than you, more than you could ever have — he has friends, other hobbies, support from Ma and Papa. He has everything even if he quits, and you? You would have nothing.
Stop it.
Why? You know I’m right.
No you’re wrong. I have things too, just like ‘Samu. ...I’m okay.
Yeah? Like what?
No answer? Heh, thought so.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Atsumu closed his eyes and sighed. He really did have volleyball as the only thing going for him.
But volleyball is only fun if you have the right people. And the ‘right people’ …was Osamu.
It was four AM and Atsumu was still wide awake. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, his mind too clouded with the haunting thoughts of playing without Osamu. Groaning, he shoved a pillow onto his face so as not to wake the backstabbing bastard with his frustration. After all, he was still an older brother, and those habits don’t just disappear.
Having suffocated himself enough, Atsumu moved the pillow away and threw it against the wall. Even in the dark, Atsumu could still tell exactly where it had landed; right next to Osamu’s sports bag. The one that he wouldn’t be needing soon.
Heaving himself out of bed, Atsumu headed to the toilet; if he wasn’t going to get any sleep, well then, he may as well go for a run, at least that way he wouldn’t be wasting his time. Maybe it could even help him clear his mind.
The sun was a burning orange as Atsumu followed. The longer he ran, the more it changed; from pitch black to purple to a fiery red and eventually, a wash of blue. He realised, as he ran, that the sky was a lot like emotions. His emotions.
At first, he was confused; 'Why did Osamu want to quit?', 'Was it because of him?', 'How long had he known that he was going to quit?'.
Then he was jealous; 'How can he just decide to give up, just like that?', 'How could he be so sure that he could go ahead with his life without Atsumu?', 'How could he leave volleyball without any sense of guilt?'.
Now, he’s angry. And he needs to let that anger out, “After a storm comes the calm” right? For now, he needed to get angry, if he didn’t he would have no peace of mind.
By the time Atsumu eventually returned home Osamu was already up, sitting by the counter eating teishoku and scrolling through his phone.
“Yer back,”
“We need to talk,” Atsumu glared.
Without taking his eyes off his phone, Osamu answered, “Not right now, we gotta get to school, we’ll talk later Tsumu,”.
Atsumu gritted his teeth; hard, “Don’t ‘Tsumu’ me- ”
“I promise I’ll hear you out but not right now. I don’t want to be late so hurry up. You took too long on your run. Go shower. If you’re not ready in fifteen I’m leaving without ya,”
So much for that calming run.
Atsumu glared at him for a few more moments before grumbling up the stairs for his shower. Stupid ‘Samu. Stupid ‘Samu and his stupid habit of being right and observant.
After a not at all relaxing shower, Atsumu shoved on his uniform, grabbed his tie, backpack and sports bag and ran downstairs to meet with Osamu.
Atsumu was distracted the whole day. He couldn’t focus at all; not on his lessons, not on his friends and not at practice. He was distant.
Osamu noticed.
Of course he did, but he didn’t say anything. He let Atsumu’s thoughts take over for once. He didn’t try to keep Atsumu engaged — actually, he barely even spoke to Atsumu. Osamu watched him from a distance but didn’t attempt to confront Atsumu.
Usually, they would walk home together. They would bicker and annoy each other. Today, they walked in silence. Neither of them spoke nor did they try to.
Osamu looked up at the stark blue sky opposite Atsumu and began talking, “I believe I promised to hear you out, so go on, talk,”
Atsumu whipped his head around and stared.
After a few moments, Osamu broke the silence again, “Well? Go on,”
“Right…” Atsumu didn’t continue as the two walked.
“W- why are you quitting?”
“Mmm,” Osamu raised both of his arms to the back of his head, “I guess, it’s like this: volleyball is fun — it’s always been fun don’t get me wrong but… I never really found the same passion for it as you do.”
“What’s that supposta’ mean?” Atsumu asked lowly.
“You love volleyball. You love it so much that you have already dedicated your whole life to it. Your past, present and future. All you see yourself doing is volleyball. For me, it’s different. I can’t dedicate my life to volleyball. It… it doesn’t sit right with me. It feels wrong. Like I’m missing out on something important and then — and then I realised that I could open a stall, I could sell food — I could sell onigiri Atsumu! I could experiment and try different flavours, I could do all of that — I can do what I love Atsumu! So why wouldn’t I?” He paused, seeing the dark look on Atsumu’s face and his clenched fists, “... You have volleyball, I’ll have my food stall,”
“And what about me?”
“Hm? What do you mean?” Osamu asked.
“What about me? While you’re off in your food stalls, what about me?”
“You’ll have volleyball? Like always…”
“I’ll have volleyball?” Atsumu spat on the ground, “I love volleyball because I got to play with you. It was something we both got to do together and enjoy together! So, if you leave I won’t have you anymore. I’ll be all alone Osamu.”
For a moment, there was silence, and then Osamu laughed, “You, you, you, you. God, it’s all about you isn’t it,” his face hardened, “If I stay — if I stay and go pro like you, I won’t be happy. You might be having the time of your life but I’ll be miserable. And I don’t want that with my life understand?”
“SO THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?” Atsumu roared.
“Do what you’ve always done,”
“AND WHAT’S THAT?”
“PLAY, GO AND PLAY FOR THE BOTH OF US, ATSUMU. DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY AND LET ME DO THE SAME.”
“OH SO NOW VOLLEYBALL DOESN’T MAKE YOU HAPPY? IS THAT WHAT IT IS?”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID.”
“REALLY? BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT YOU IMPLIED!”
“NO I DIDN’T. IF YA WOULD JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE — ”
“FOR ONCE?” Atsumu scoffed, “I don’t listen to you?”
“No you don’t," Osamu's voice rose, "Because you’re so goddamn stuck in that volleyball head of yers that YA DIDN’T EVEN REALISE that I have been trying to tell you for months!”
“Don’t lie to me ‘Samu,”
“Why would I lie to you about this? Go ask Ma if ya don’t believe me. She’ll know all about me trying to tell you because unlike you, she would actually listen.”
Atsumu gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything. Instead, he ran off towards the house leaving Osamu behind.
"Atsumu, I really do love ya, I do but… why do you have to make it so hard?"
Atsumu didn’t come out of his room for the rest of the day.
Well, the room he shared with Osamu.
His meals were delivered a bit as though he was a prisoner — courtesy of Osamu — placed outside the door to eat of his own will.
Still, Osamu felt guilty.
He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but dammit he did anyway. It was his dream he wanted to pursue. His dream he should pursue. He couldn’t follow Atsumu forever, right? At some point or another, they would've gone their separate ways anyway. He knew that. He had always known. Maybe that made it hurt more.
Maybe.
Over the course of the next week, the two barely spoke to each other. They both denied the others’ existence.
Apart from when they played volleyball; because during those two hours, that was the only time that they couldn’t afford to let their fight get in the way. They couldn’t afford to let it disrupt the small amount of time they had left together.
They just couldn’t afford it.
But unluckily for them, their teammates weren’t the type to just let them stay apart — not when they could see how much the two missed each other. How much they needed each other. And the twins should’ve known that the way their team was, they would pull the oldest trick in the book: locking them in the gym and then running away (then coming back to peek through the windows).
The moment Osamu realised they were locked in he had gone flying to the door, banging and shouting for Ginjima to let them out to which he received the answer, “NOT UNTIL YOU AND ATSUMU SORT IT OUT.” and that was that.
Atsumu didn’t pay any notice. He stayed for extra practice anyway so this was no different, he carried on grabbing ball after ball, toss after toss.
“So…“ Osamu started after a while, “I guess they’re not letting us out anytime soon,”
BAM.
Atsumu served a ball. Osamu flinched.
“Listen- ”
BAM.
Another one, this time cutting him off.
“Atsumu- please let me talk,”
Atsumu stilled, ball ready in hand.
When nothing came Osamu took a deep breath.
“I need you to understand that I am making this decision because I can’t always follow in your footsteps. I need to be my own person and believe me, this is hard for me too…it hurts me as well, just as much as it’s hurting you.”
Atsumu’s knuckles were white, gripping the ball tight enough that it could burst at any second. His nails dug into soft flesh, making scarlet blood droplets fall to the ground.
“Atsumu- your hand… ‘Tsumu stop it. You’re hurting yourself! ATSUMU!” When the latter refused to release himself, Osamu raced towards Atsumu, only one thought in his mind.
Atsumu is hurting himself.
Osamu gingerly took Atsumu’s hand into his, caressing around the wound, then ran off for the first aid kit.
Atsumu watched him. Watched as Osamu scampered around the gym and took care of the bleeding mess he’d made.
Useless.
Pathetic.
Was there nothing he could do right?
He put his head down, hair falling with him, and clenched his teeth.
When Osamu returned he noticed the trembling — he noticed but he stayed quiet.
He noticed the angry look on his face, not directed to him but to Atsumu himself. He noticed the way Atsumu’s hands shook ever so slightly; the way he was so clearly falling apart.
Wordlessly, Osamu handed him a water bottle as he took a seat next to him.
They sat in silence again.
“I just… I just wish you’d trust me,” Atsumu bit his lip nimbly.
“I have trusted you, I did. How could I not? I know you.”
“Then what about now?”
“I… I don’t know. Not anymore.”
More silence.
It was quite suffocating actually. They knew each other so thoroughly and so well that now they had nothing more to learn about one another. But they were wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. God they were so wrong it was utterly laughable.
“Damnit, but I need you ‘Samu!”
Osamu pursed his lips, eyeing Atsumu, “Need,” he spoke softly, quietly, just a hair louder than a whisper, “Need is a lot different to want Atsumu.”
Atsumu gaped at him.
"Atsumu," Osamu said firmly, "We aren't the same person, I just- why does it feel like every time we have this conversation, we talk about the same damned thing. You don’t listen, Atsumu, and ya need to, you can’t avoid this forever.”
“Yeah but maybe if I just close my eyes and don’t look at you it’ll be fine,” he scoffed.
Osamu whipped back around, expression steely.
He spoke quietly, almost whispering, “When we’re fifty- no eighty, when we’re eighty, that’s when we’ll see. We’ll see who’s happier. Who managed to get what they wanted. We’ll see where we are at eighty, then, and only then, can ya understand. Maybe, somehow, you’ll manage to understand before, but at eighty, that’s when we’ll see together. The progress we’ve made, the regrets, the challenges. It will all come out.”
“Well it’s kinda pointless to have a competition that’s already so favourable to me isn’t it then?” Atsumu stared lowly, expression surly, his eyes boring into Osamu’s.
He glared at Atsumu then turned back on his heel towards the door, “GINJIMA! LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW, I’VE TRIED TALKING LIKE YOU ASKED BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR THIS BASTARD.”
There was a bit of shuffling and then the door was pulled back, revealing a set of grim-faced boys. Akagi and Ginjima hung their heads lowly while Suna stared ahead, forlorn as Osamu stormed out.
Atsumu was still sat on the bench. Bouncing a ball up and down.
Akagi was the first to speak, “Listen, I may not ‘ave a twin, but Osamu’s right, ya ain’t the same person as him. He’s gonna have ‘is preferences too, ” he sighed, “just… get some rest Atsumu,”
And then he was gone.
Atsumu stared up at the tall ceiling above him and sighed.
It was late and he was tired. Atsumu had stayed at the gym for even longer than usual, not at all in the mood to get home and face… well everyone really.
The sky was dark now but it wasn’t intimidating. No, it was comforting — and he always did like it this way. There was something about the unknown, it made him shiver sometimes — shiver with excitement.
Normally anyway.
Right now, he’d hit a tree and now there was something crawling all over him, his arms, his legs, his hair, leaving behind a slimy trail that he could track down to the very start. That he could go back to, over and over, analysing it, following it, then cursing it.
And he didn’t know what it was.
And he was scared.
Because this time, the unknown… was ‘Samu.
He stepped outside and breathed. He took in the fresh country air, that scent of nature you get; full of leaves and trees and grass — yes all of those things have a scent, and it’s even more prominent when you live in the countryside. He took a minute to stare at the dark sky, feeling it resonate with him in some odd, twisted way.
It’s okay universe, me too. It feels pretty empty, doesn’t it? Hah, I take it, it’s not a good feeling for you either?
Peeking behind some clouds, he saw the moon. Maybe it gave him hope.
Maybe he needed distance, or time. Maybe he needed both.
He took another breath, a shorter one, and stepped down.
He really didn’t like fighting with ‘Samu.
When you notice that your children haven’t been speaking to each other, as a mother it is only right that you worry, especially when your children are twins who have been joined from the hip since day one.
Up till now, Aiya had just observed. She wanted to let them work it out between themselves, they had to learn. But then Atsumu came to her. He came to her and he was crying — and that broke her heart.
She reached her hands out for Atsumu to fall into, the fabric on her shoulder dampening from tears.
Her children were hurting, if her children were hurting how could she be alright? She stroked his horrible ‘blond’ hair and held him tight for she knew that he needed this right now.
They stayed like that all night. Mother and son — embraced together as though Atsumu was a newborn child she didn’t want to let out of her sight.
When he woke up, Atsumu had positioned himself into her lap, he turned to look up at her, already awake and smiling, “Ma,” he croaked, “Do I- am I bad at listening?”
Aiya chuckled, “Yeah, you are,”
Atsumu scowled.
“Fine fine, don’t pout like that, I really am telling you the truth. You only hear what you want to hear. You don’t listen, you hear. And I know this is about ‘Samu- NO, don’t even try to deny it. You two haven’t been talking recently. Did he tell you, about his plans after high school I mean?”
He stared down at his fingers, twirling them against each other, “Maybe,” he whispered.
“And I take it you’re not very happy with this decision then?”
“...No,”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong for feeling like that. You are allowed to have emotions, and they are valid. ‘Samu is your twin. He’s been playing volleyball with you from the start, so it’s only natural that you feel weird about his choice to move on from it. But, that doesn’t mean that you can force him into staying. He’s made his choice, it’s gonna be hard for both of you, but you have to come to terms with it first. You can’t stay mad at him forever Tsum Tsum.”
Atsumu hummed. He knew she was right. It would hurt, but just how long was he planning on fighting with ‘Samu anyway? He wouldn’t be able to handle it for very long, he knew that much.
He hauled himself up on his feet again then leaned down to press a kiss on her head, “Thanks Ma,”
Aiya smiled at him, “You’re going to be okay Atsumu, you and Osamu both.”
Smoke. There was smoke everywhere.
Panicking, Atsumu grabbed the oven door handle and waved a cloth inside. He sighed. Clearly, there was a lot on his mind if he managed to muck up salmon. He needed to talk to ‘Samu. As soon as he could.
He placed his hands on the counter, leaning back with his head down. Why were emotions just so damn difficult.
“What the hell did ya do in here?”
Speak of the devil.
“Don’t worry about it, ‘Samu,” Atsumu forced his eyes shut.
There was no movement to indicate that he’d left, and Atsumu refused to be the first one to break away from this — whatever ‘this’ was.
Life was cruel. It was horrid but, then somehow, it was also beautiful. Atsumu had experienced life for about eighteen years now, but that didn’t mean he understood a single thing about it. How it worked, how it functioned, or why— he didn’t understand the point of life because, surely, surely, it had to be something bigger than just getting to annoy ‘Samu all the time.
Surely.
His eyes were still closed when he noticed a presence next to him. Atsumu looked up to see ‘Samu take control of what he couldn’t do himself.
It wasn’t like he couldn’t make onigiri, just not right now, while he hasn’t been talking to ‘Samu in over two weeks. Not right now, when he’s hurting and ‘Samu’s doing the same. Not right now. Not right now.
He stepped back to allow ‘Samu to do what he wanted. In a way, this was Osamu proving to Atsumu that his decision is final. Proving to Atsumu that this is definitely what he wants to do. Proving to Atsumu that he’s having fun in a kitchen.
Proving so many things to Atsumu that Atsumu wondered what right he had to make Osamu prove all of them to him. Because he didn’t. He didn’t have any right — not really.
But Osamu was willing to give it to him anyway.
In some ways Atsumu was ashamed.
He looked up at ‘Samu to see him stuffing the rice with ease — even the shape was perfect as he cupped his hands to mold it.
The walls of their home faded and soon it was replaced with the interior of another kitchen. He didn’t know where he was, but just seeing Osamu with that smile of satisfaction — that smile of happiness, he was overwhelmed with emotions.
First of all, Atsumu was happy. He wouldn’t admit it, but seeing ‘Samu there like that, it left him feeling giddy inside.
The challenge of happiness came back to him. It hit him hard, and it seemed that for the first time he was finally able to understand just how important it was to them. The meaning it held.
In a way it made him regret it — just like 'Samu had said. It was like — no it was a promise. A promise for both of them to keep, and hold and treasure and then later on in life, remember and perhaps laugh, perhaps cry, perhaps regret; whatever it may be, the emotions would be strong.
He looked up again seeing ‘Samu content in all his glory and figured that maybe this could be him in the future. Maybe 'Samu could be in a restaurant of his own, happily making onigiri not just for Atsumu but for so many others as well.
If that were to be real then Osamu would be a very happy man indeed.
He was brought back from his thoughts when a plate hit the table with a soft clink. Osamu turned back without a word immediately as Atsumu jolted.
Atsumu stayed quiet too. While the two didn’t have the so-called ‘twin telepathy’, they didn’t need words to understand either.
He stared at his plate, the perfectly shaped onigiri and thought of how far his brother could go if he worked hard — and Atsumu knew he would, knew he could.
Because they were twins. And maybe all Osamu wanted — needed — was Atsumu’s support and acceptance.
And Atsumu understood.
But he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Osamu that it was fine if he wanted to make onigiri instead of playing volleyball. He tried but he just couldn’t.
And he hated himself for it.
What sort of big brother was he if he couldn’t support Osamu’s dreams. He was so ashamed of it, so very ashamed that he couldn’t even look him in the eye.
Maybe Osamu thought Atsumu was still mad at him, because he tried to look at Atsumu and yet every time, Atsumu would turn away. The wound Atsumu had created was only growing.
Maybe Atsumu was better at creating distance than breaking it. And maybe he was the defective piece, the one who was selfish, and greedy, and mean, and the complete opposite of —
“It’s gonna get cold. I ‘on’t think you’ve eaten anything all day, make sure ya finish those,”
And maybe, with ‘Samu they were the perfect balance. Because ‘Samu didn’t run away. ‘Samu wasn’t trying to avoid the conversation they so desperately needed to have, Atsumu was.
In fact, Osamu was almost trying to fix it. But maybe there was no almost; because ‘Samu was trying to fix it, he was trying to give Atsumu space. He was trying to not disappoint Atsumu, but he was also standing very very much in place. Without running anywhere.
So if Atsumu was better at creating distance, then maybe ‘Samu would be better at breaking it.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered.
It was gentle — almost fragile, as though a single wrong move would destroy it. As though those simple two words were more delicate than the china they had sitting somewhere in the house.
To the twins, it was.
Neither spoke nor moved. Both sat in silence until ‘Samu spun around and flung himself onto ‘Tsumu so hard that they both fell on the floor. Both sobbing so much that they continuously wiped their snot on their sleeves.
The floodgates were open now and they weren’t stopping anytime soon.
He would miss Osamu, that was for sure, but that didn’t mean this was the end. No, this was the start of a new chapter for them — more experience.
New opportunities, time to focus on building their own characters — as their own people, not as ‘The Miya Twins’ — at least, not in the volleyball sense anymore.
Now they needed to grow into the identities they’d recreate for themselves. The Miya Twins who grew together, who are both successful but are equally happy in their own fields. Miya Atsumu, who will hopefully one day become a setter for the Japanese National Team. Miya Osamu, who will hopefully one day become a successful restaurant owner. The Miya Twins, where both could be proud of each other.
The Miya Twins who were happy.
This was their vision. A future where they were happy, content, where they were enough.
A future that came true.
A future where Atsumu had received a package containing his national jersey bearing the number 11 and Osamu was creating Onigiri Miya merch because they had both achieved so much.
A future where Osamu was ringing up Atsumu to help promote said merch as though he wasn’t going to do it anyway, as though he still needed his brothers bigger platform when his own was almost equal.
A future where they still needed each other because no one else could compete for their needs. A future where they had everything they wanted.
And ‘everything’, meant each other.