Chapter Text
Sakusa Kiyoomi has never truly had a place he felt was home. Sure, he was raised in a large house, had a ‘family’, but it was never
home.
He had an isolating experience or childhood. Left to entertain himself for the long hours of the day and returned home after school to an ‘empty’ house, though it was never really empty. His family never acted like family, they all stayed in seperate rooms. His father, in his office on the rare occasion he was home and not on business trips. His mother never left her bedroom as she never wanted to see her children, it was almost as if she never wanted to be a mother in the first place. His older brother and sister had both moved away, his sister for work and his brother to university. He was a lonely child and hated school.
At the early age of 5 Sakusa Kiyoomi developed a severe case of OCD. It wasnt a fear of germs however, it was a fear of illness and what comes of it. If any of his classmates had a cold or even a sniffle, his quiet persona collapsed. It was immediate screaming and crying, often throwing up. A severe incident at the age of 10 caused his mother to drag him out of school to be homeschooled for the unforseable future. A classmate of his had been travel sick on a school trip and kiyoomi had cancelled the whole trip for everyone. He refused to get back on the coach and this proceeded in him scrubbing and scrubbing at his hands until they were bleeding and chapped.
At 15, he started back in public school but this time in highschool. The only reason his mother let him was the sole fact that Komori Motoya would also be attending. His cousin was the only friend he had ever had , the only one that slightly understood him and respected his boundaries and how to help him if necessary.
Thats when volleyball became his lifeline. It was an escape. The sound of sneakers against freshly waxed floors, the laughter and joy the other boys possessed, the feeling of pure exhilleration when something went right and he spiked a ball perfectly. It helped that he was a natural, volleyball just came to him, it was him. It was an extention of his soul.
The matches where his favourite. Kiyoomi thrived of competition and the death glares he received from components only fuelled him more. Sure, he was a prick. He wasnt nice in the slightest to his components, not even his teammates. It wasnt his fault they never tried to get to know him. They just assumed that he hated them due to his condition. They assumed that just because he kept to himself that he choosed to be lonely.
————————————————————————————————————————-
Miya fucking Atsumu was the loudest most insufferable man known to the universe. It was training camp, Kiyoomi was minding his business reading (not that he was interested in the book at all but he would never tell Atsumu that). Then there he fucking comes. Miya Atsumu in all his glory, practically skipping towards Kiyoomi.
“Ya’ look lonely”
“Im not.”
“Ya’ look it”
“well im not.”
This is a pointless conversation, just more time Kiyoomi could have had reading the most dull book he had ever picked up. still better than talking to Miya.
Miya fully launched himself onto Kiyoomi dragging him by his arm.
“Come have a match with me.” ….. “please?”
And that was it. Kiyoomi recoiled faster than he ever has, running towards his room. He couldnt breathe. His hands were heavy. His arm burned. His heart was pounding. He was shouting for Motoya.
————————————————————————————————————————
High school was over. Kiyoomi had had offers rolling in from the most elite volleyball teams in the whole of Japan. He was elated. But, obviously, his mother had other plans for him. He was to spend the next 4 Years of his life studying some stupid neuroscience degree when all be wanted was to be on the court.
4 years of driving himself mad for hours and hours to get a passing grade, studying into the early hours of the morning, resulting in him never sleeping. Him never sleeping turned into him lying awake , his eyed excruciatingly heavy but never closing even when he tried to sleep. On his bad nights he found himself back outside of his family house, but he could never go in, so found a park nearby and claimed the bench as his own. He would read, write stories and poems, blast music through his headphones or sit in silent thought until he knew it was time to return back to his room in university to get ready for his early classes.
He never went home, never on weekend to visit, never on holidays, instead he would spend his days working himself to the bone in the university’s gymnasium perfecting spikes with the help of motoya on visits and increasing his stamina, endurance and mobility.
————————————————————————————————————————
Kiyoomi was 22, disowned by his family for choosing volleyball over a stable career, for never listening, for never visiting, for never caring, for loving men. But there he was, his dreams in front of him, the newest member of the MSBY Black Jackalls.
The team had been prewarned about his condition and showed him nothing but respect. First there was Hinata, a little aloof but caring none the less. He was clingy and touchy but never stood too close to Kiyoomi and never touched him even if he wanted to. He would go in for high fives or a hug and immediately stop and apologise but brushed it off so it wouldnt be a big deal or awkward for kiyoomi. There was Bokuto who was loud and boisterous but made it very obvious when he washed his hands before passing anything to kiyoomi and always made sure that his space was clean no matter how much of a messy person he was.
And then there was Atsumu. Again. He had finally discovered the magical product known as toner so his hair was fixed. He was built and his skin was always a glowing shade of beige. He possessed some sort of infectious charm through his bright smile and perfect lips. His doe honey brown eyes and his long eyelashes framed his face creating a portrait of the purest form. But sadly, he was still a cunt.