Chapter Text
Hands were trembling and his heart was racing. His fingers slipped almost dropping the test with two lines staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling one by one. It felt like he was suffocating. He didn’t know what to do or what life would look like from now on. How could he manage this on his own left completely alone? His thoughts spun out of control, too fast, too loud, and he couldn’t silence them. Anxiety washed over his whole body in an instant and—
A knock at the door.
“Tsumu? …Tsumu, are ya alright in there?”
Osamu’s voice pulled him back to reality. Atsumu blinked at the door, his gaze softening through the blur of tears. Somehow, with shaking legs, he pushed himself off the floor and moved toward the exit.
—
It all started in winter when Atsumu was invited to the All-Japan Youth Intensive Training Camp in Tokyo. He was really excited about it but tried not to show anyone—like he always did—saying things like, “I knew they’d invite me.”
Atsumu was packing his things, humming to himself with joy when the quiet creak of the door
interrupted him. Osamu was standing in the doorway.
“Don’t get too excited. It’s only five days.” he said arms crossed as he looked at his brother.
“Ya just mad it’s me who got invited.” Atsumu smirked continuing to pack his bag.
Osamu scoffed and sat down on the bed beside the bag Atsumu was packing. Atsumu finally finished and sat down as well, just to rest.
“Nationals are coming. This opportunity is really important for me.” Atsumu said with a slight smile on his face.
Osamu glanced at him and a soft smile appeared on his face too.
“Yeah, I know it is.”
Atsumu left his house early in the morning and took a train to Tokyo. The whole way there he was filled with thrill about the event but at the same time he felt confident. He believed in himself. He was sure he could handle everything at this camp. Little did he know that something was about to happen in the near future that would keep him from ever going there at all.
When Atsumu arrived, he was greeted by a tall building with the words National Training Camp written across it. His chest tightened with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to step onto the court. Volleyball wasn’t just a sport to him—it was his whole life. A proud smile tugged at his lips as he headed toward the entrance clutching his bag a little tighter.
Atsumu greeted his coach and received the key to his dormitory room. He walked over to the dorm area to leave his things. Reaching the right room, he gently opened the door and stepped inside.
He looked around. There was a table, a drawer and a single bunk bed. It wasn’t luxurious, of course, but it was more than enough for the five days he’d be staying there.
He stepped toward the lower bunk to set down his bag convinced he’d be the first to claim it. But then his eyes caught on the neatly folded clothes resting on the bed. They were arranged so
precisely it almost startled him. Who folds clothes like that? Atsumu thought, blinking. He had never seen anyone keep things so perfect.
He sighed, realizing he’d have to sleep on the upper bunk. With a small huff Atsumu tossed his bag up there, grabbed a clean set of clothes and headed to the showers.
When he came back a while later, towel draped around his neck, he froze in the doorway. A tall, black-haired guy was in the middle of changing his shirt. The rustle of fabric stopped as the boy glanced over his shoulder, eyes catching Atsumu’s for just a second.
Atsumu froze mid-step, his eyes drawn in despite himself. The boy was taller than him, by a little but enough to notice. His hair was dark and curled slightly framing a serious face marked with two small moles. Atsumu’s gaze caught on them for longer than he intended, only to notice there were more all over his body. Something about the precision of it made him hesitate, like he shouldn’t be staring but couldn’t quite stop. It was clear — this boy was an Alpha.
And then it hit him, faint at first, but undeniable once he registered it. A scent. Clean and crisp, like rain carried on cold wind, threaded with something steady and grounding. It wasn’t
overwhelming, just there, surrounding the boy naturally.
“I’m glad you actually shower.” the guy said as he slipped on a fresh shirt.
Huh.
Huh?
“Huh??” Atsumu blinked, stunned by the comment. “What d’ya mean I actually shower?”
The curly-haired boy glanced over when Atsumu’s accent caught his ear, studying him for a moment before moving toward the door. As he passed, he gave Atsumu another quick look.
“You’d better shower, since we’re gonna be here together. I don’t like germs.” he said pulling a mask over his face.
With those words he walked out, leaving Atsumu standing frozen in the room.
“What the hell?!?!” Atsumu burst out still reeling.
That evening, still irritated by what had happened earlier, Atsumu made his way to the court for their first training session. His frustration lingered, but the moment he stepped inside, it started to melt away.
The sharp scent of polished wood and faint traces of sweat hit him instantly, and the echo of bouncing balls and sneakers squeaking across the floor filled the air. Atsumu’s chest tightened - not with anger this time, but with something warmer. This was where he belonged.
His eyes swept over the shining floorboards, the bright overhead lights and the tall net stretched out before him. Every detail sent a thrill through him. Finally, he was here.
“Okay everyone come here.” One of the coaches interrupted players and everyone stopped.
Everyone gathered together and greeted both coaches. One of them introduced the other and then each of the players was introduced in turn. Atsumu’s eyes immediately caught on a familiar figure standing in front of him - the very guy he’d be sharing a room with for the next five days.
He was wearing a yellow shirt and green shorts. The colors didn’t quite suit his personality and that amused Atsumu. Standing beside him was another player, shorter but dressed in the same yellow shirt. The two stood side by side, a contrast that caught Atsumu’s attention.
“Alright, now everyone can properly introduce themselves.” the coach said with a friendly smile.
One by one, the players stated their names and schools.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi, Itachiyama Institute.”
At the sound of it, Atsumu’s eyes immediately snapped toward him, curiosity flickering across his face.
Tokyo, huh? Atsumu thought, a grin tugging at his lips.
When his turn came he spoke with full confidence, his voice carrying easily across the court.
“Miya Atsumu, Inarizaki High School.”
With introductions finished the coaches wasted no time and started the first training session. Atsumu stretched his shoulders, already buzzing with energy. The moment he stepped onto the court, all the noise in his head vanished. Here, it was just him, the ball and the game.
He slipped into the role of setter like it was second nature. His hands moved fast and precise, sending clean tosses to spikers he had never even played with before. The ball left his fingertips smoothly, perfectly placed, as if he already knew where the hitter wanted it. Even with new teammates, his instincts carried him - sharp eyes reading the court, quick decisions creating opportunities.
He was observing how everyone else played but for some reason his eyes kept drifting back to one boy - Sakusa Kiyoomi. A pretty cute name for a guy like him. His game was impressive and the way he curled his wrists when he hit the ball was incredible. Atsumu caught himself staring a little too long, pulse picking up in a way that had nothing to do with training.
And then Sakusa’s eyes flicked toward him. It was only a glance but it landed squarely on Atsumu, like he’d been aware of the attention the whole time. Atsumu smirked, refusing to break eye contact until Sakusa did, his chest giving a strange little jolt he couldn’t quite explain.
The training went on like that the whole time and they hadn’t spoken a single word to each other until it finally ended.
Once the coaches left, some of the players decided to stay on the court a little longer—including the two of them. The air still smelled faintly of sweat and polished wood and the echo of bouncing balls and sneakers lingered in the quiet gym. Atsumu was leaning against the wall, drinking water, when Sakusa approached him, a dissatisfied expression on his face.
“Hey, Miya.” he called and Atsumu turned to face him. Sakusa stood there, a ball in one hand.
“Can’t you give me tosses a little higher or are you not capable of that?” he asked, clearly annoyed with Atsumu’s playing style.
So ya noticed, huh? Atsumu thought to himself, a small grin tugging at his lips.
“Why? Someone like ya can’t hit simple tosses like that?” Atsumu said, putting his bottle away and smirking at Kiyoomi.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Sakusa’s face.
“You could clearly tell those tosses weren’t the ones I usually hit.” Sakusa replied, sliding a little closer. “You were fine tossing to anyone else but me.”
Now it was Atsumu’s turn to feel slightly annoyed.
“Firstly, ya could’ve just said ya wanted them higher.”
“You clearly saw I don’t—” Kiyoomi started, but Atsumu cut him off.
“Secondly,” Atsumu said, glancing sharply at Sakusa, making him fall silent. “Ya didn’t even think why I was givin’ ya tosses like that, did ya?” His eyes met Kiyoomi’s for a brief, intense moment.
“What are you talking about?” Kiyoomi asked, now genuinely confused but still slightly annoyed by Atsumu’s response.
Atsumu sighed and reached for the ball in Kiyoomi’s hands.
“D’ya mind?” he smirked and Sakusa handed him the ball without a word.
Atsumu stepped back onto the court near the net and looked at Kiyoomi.
“Ya know,” he said, eyes locked on Kiyoomi, “‘m sure ya can do more than that. Thought I’d let ya prove it.”
Sakusa raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean” Atsumu leaned forward slightly, smirking, “I’ve seen how ya hit. Don’t pretend ya can’t handle better.”
Sakusa’s jaw tightened, a faint flicker crossing his otherwise unreadable expression. Atsumu’s grin widened—he knew he’d gotten under Sakusa’s skin, just a little.
“Don’t act like you know anything about me.” Sakusa snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Atsumu said, narrowing his eyes slightly, smirking. “But… d’ya still wanna hit only those easy tosses when Itachiyama goes to Nationals?”
Something tightened in Sakusa’s chest at that. He blinked, eyes narrowing as he replayed Atsumu’s words in his mind. The Omega’s teasing tone made him pause.
“Everyone here can hit simple high tosses” Atsumu added, lowering his voice just a little. “but the real question is… can everyone handle the difficult ones?”
Sakusa’s jaw tightened as he stood there, silent, processing Atsumu’s words.
“So?” Atsumu stepped back near the net, giving Sakusa more space to hit. “Worth a shot?”
Sakusa hesitated for a moment, unsure, but after a second he stepped onto the court, ready to hit.
Atsumu grinned, pleased that he had managed to persuade him.
Atsumu hit the ball into Sakusa’s hands and he received it without any problem. The ball was directed back to Atsumu’s hands. Kiyoomi had always known he was capable of more but he never thought some blond boy would fire him up like this.
He took a step back, and when the ball reached Atsumu, who toss it toward him, Sakusa started moving. It wasn’t a basic toss, no. These were balls he had never attempted before or maybe had tried but could never hit cleanly.
But somehow, right now, he felt a strange confidence. He moved toward the ball, timing his jump perfectly, ready to hit it with his full strength.
Sakusa met the ball midair, wrists snapping perfectly. The hit was strong, precise, and clean—far better than Atsumu had expected. His eyes lightened up as he felt the excitement of being able to toss like that for other spikers.
Sakusa stared at the ball as it landed on the other side of the court, feeling a strange satisfaction at his own hit. He couldn’t believe Atsumu’s words had actually helped him improve.
His eyes shifted to Atsumu who was grinning widely at him.
“See? Told ya.” Atsumu said, crossing his arms smugly.
For a moment, Sakusa almost smiled back but he quickly restrained himself.
“Let’s say you know what you’re doing for a setter.” he said and Atsumu rolled his eyes, still grinning.
“Ya really are—” Atsumu started, but one of the coaches interrupted him, telling everyone it was finally time to rest.
They left without another word. After dinner, Atsumu headed to his dormitory room. To his
surprise, Kiyoomi wasn’t there. He grabbed his clean clothes and went to take a shower.
After a shower when Atsumu walked toward the room, he instantly caught a familiar scent coming from inside. It was Kiyoomi - he could detect sharp notes of bergamot and the fresh, clean hint of rain, mixed with the subtle, intoxicating warmth of Alpha presence. The fragrance made his chest tighten in a way that was impossible to ignore. Atsumu composed himself and stepped inside.
Sakusa sat on his bed wearing freshly changed clothes.
The atmosphere between them was tense and strange. After that situation n the court, Sakusa couldn’t bring himself to say anything—and neither could Atsumu.
Finally, Atsumu moved to his bed and climbed up. He lay down, deciding to just rest for the day, since he still had five more days to spend here.
Sakusa turned off the lights and lay down on his bed as well. Kiyoomi couldn’t comprehend the strange feeling lingering inside him. At first, he had been annoyed and now he found himself oddly calmed by the Omega’s sweet scent.
He brushed it off, deciding not to think about it and just let himself rest.
That’s how they both fell asleep - silent, yet fully aware of each other. The faint Atsumu’s scent clung to the air, mingling with the quiet strength of Sakusa’s presence. It was a warmth that both comforted and unnerved them drawing them closer in a way neither could explain, leaving lingering tension that hummed softly between them even in sleep.