these kinds of tweets are coming out now so like let’s just. go over this in case anyone on here wants to say stupid shit like this.
fandom cannot be a safe, relaxing, recharging space if it’s racist. if you think that discussing and trying to fight against racism in fandom makes it “not fun” and “stressful,” imagine how it feels being a person of color in a fandom so deeply entrenched with racism and full of people who put their own comfort over fighting that racism.
relaxing and recharging for WHO, exactly?
if your fandom space isn’t safe for people of color, it’s not safe. period. it is selfish and frankly ignorant to prioritize your feelings and personal comfort over making sure that a space is welcoming and safe to everyone. if talking about racism is necessary to make that happen, then it’s necessary. this shouldn’t be controversial.
coming to onigiri miya has always been part of your day to day routine, not for the reasons people would think, but probably because you and osamu go way back together.
you’ve been here since the restaurant was first built, and ever since then, you’ve watched it grow into a household name.
you and osamu have done the same, growing with it as time passed, and before the two of you knew it, you were filling the walls with pictures and memories of one another.
“morning!” you greet as soon as you come inside the restaurant, the bell by the door chiming as you do.
you shake your umbrella lightly to the side before closing it neatly and leaving it there.
you look up to face the front desk, tilting your head slightly as you notice someone you don’t quite recognize.
you look at her, “you’re new here.”
“oh, yes,” she smiles at you, her hand making its way to the back of her neck, “it’s my first day.”
you walk towards the counter, smiling back at her, “how’re you liking it?”
“it’s harder than it looks.” she tells you honestly, her gaze sheepishly falling to the side, “and miya-san’s a bit intimidating.”
you try your best to not openly laugh at how she calls him ‘miya-san’, deciding it’s best to just nod tightly and not say anything else about it.
“he’s not.” you offer her an emphatic smile, waving off the bit of her worries, “he just looks mean.”
she laughs at that, and there’s a small swell of pride in your chest because of it.
“oh, sorry, i didn’t mean to stall you.” her eyebrows furrow together, and she points to the small office room behind her, “you are here for miya-san right?”
you nod, laughter bubbling in your cheeks, and you bite, “yes, i’m here for miya-san.”
“how did you know?” you ask, taking steps to walk away as you do.
and she gives you a short smile, telling you at just the last second before you go, her words traced with the crinkle of her eyes as she points to one of the framed photos lining the walls of the door.
“you look very much like your picture.”
it was an old photo, the very first picture ever taken here way back when it only just opened. it had you in the center of the frame with atsumu and osamu on either side, and an old dated sign the three of you carried that read "onigiri miya".
you recognize this photo well. atsumu has a copy of it, it's currently framed in his own apartment, osamu carries a smaller version of it in his wallet, and you walk past your own framed copy of it on your way to the bathroom every morning.
it was a good photo, and it sits very closely to your heart.
you eventually make your way to the back, walking towards where you know osamu would be.
at this time of day, he'd be at his office, looking over shipment files or delivery papers, or whatever clerical nonsense this part of his job requires him to do.
naturally, this is the part he hates the most, so when atsumu suggested dinner plans with you and him during it, he was way more than happy to accept.
“hey.” you call out to him, the gentle smile on your face from before still stark on your face.
osamu sits behind his desk, almost completely engrossed in the piles of papers he apparently needs to read. his hair only a little bit disheveled, but you notice it enough to know that he must've been running his hands through it.
“hey, sorry, i just need a few more minutes.” he looks up for a second to see you, before inevitably pulling his attention back to the loads of paperwork in front of him.
you hum, telling him, “take your time.”
and you walk around his horribly organized office as he does so.
osamu hates this place — his office — you know this as much as he's willing to admit it.
it's always kept him from the kitchen, the one place he really would rather be, and you almost feel sorry for him knowing that currently, it's the place he's almost aways at.
you take a closer look at his walls, all lined with different framed pictures, and posters of michelin star meals.
you smile, “i met your new employee.”
and osamu hums to let you know he's listening.
"she said you intimidated her," you laugh slightly, your shoulders rising at the fact, "i told her it's because you couldn't help it that you crawled out from the depths of hell looking like that."
he still doesn't look up from his work, but when you turn slightly to look back at him, you don't fail to notice the slight upturned corner of his mouth.
"thank you for clearing that up." he says, not once turning to look at you.
you turn back to venturing out the photos that decorate his walls, a few of his parents back at home, the old inarizaki volleyball team sometime during the spring tournament, and a myriad of you and atsumu from when you helped osamu out in the restaurant.
your fingers touch the frame, "remember when tsumu would work the register and he'd just really suck at it?"
you turn to look at osamu who only gives you a short, "uh huh".
"or when i surprised you with my own recipe for a tuna onigiri and we both got food poisoning for two days?" you tilt your head.
he gives you another distracted response, nodding his head absentmindedly, "hmm hmm."
you turn your back away from the wall, “or when you promised me a kajillion dollars because you love me so much?”
osamu nods again, “yup, uh huh.”
you have another reply in mind, ready to fully abandon your attention on the walls and back to him, but then the phone rings, and you're interrupted.
for the first time since you got here, osamu finally fully looks up, his attention still a bit distracted and when he looks at you, you know well enough to be the one to pick up the phone.
he mouths, “thank you,” and you only roll your eyes back at him.
you bring the phone up to your ear, "miya onigiri, what can we do for you?"
and his focus is back on the papers on his desk.
“oh sorry,” the smile is evident in your voice, and for a brief second, osamu looks to you.
you cross your arms, “i'm afraid we can't deliver to that address because we've just decided to close the restaurant down forever.”
osamu rolls his eyes, putting down his pen.
“tell tsumu we're on our way, i'm done.” he sighs, shoulders falling, and a small smile comes to his face once he sees you rejoice.
you speak into the phone, "yes, we're on our way now, don't worry."
a second passes.
you follow, "no, atsumu, i have not seen your brown coat."
osamu’s glance immediately comes to his coat rack on the corner of his office, one that holds a particularly familiar coat that he knows you’ve definitely seen.
it takes you another second to hang up the phone, but when you do, it’s given osamu enough time to finish up and walk all the way over to where you stand.
he puts on his coat (not atsumu’s).
“you have too many pictures of me here.” you give him a short smile, and he watches you as you point to the frames all over his wall.
he really does hate this place, which is why he’s filled the walls with something he loves.
your shoulders rise, “people would think i’m your ambassador or something.”
osamu quirks an eyebrow, “or you know, people would think the normal thing and think that we're dating."
“well, what happens when we break up?” your smile is teasing, watching him as he takes steps to walk over to you, “you’re gonna have to take me out of all these frames.”
you shrug, teasingly, “that’s a lot of work.”
and he tells you, a short smile on his face as his arms fall around your hips, “then i guess the only solution is to never break up.”
“really? that’s the only solution?” you laugh lightly.
and osamu nods, repeating with more emphasis, “the only solution.”
you shake your head.
he smiles wider, “or i can just not give you a kajillion dollars since i love you so much.”
your mouth falls slightly ajar, hitting him gently in the chest as he teases you right back.
it takes you another second to realize how close you’ve gotten, to realize the fact that this is the first time all day the two of you have properly seen each other.
"hi." he tells you, holding you close, and smiling.
"hello." you smile back, and your smile gets wider, "miya-san."
his expression falls, "oh my god, not you too."
"oh, miya-san, can i please get a raise?” you pitch your voice up higher, “i'm afraid a million dollars isn't cutting it out for my salary anymore."
osamu scrunches his nose, shaking his head in disapproval as he rolls his eyes again.
and before he’d let you say another word or another teasing, he closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you for the first time since you’ve seen him.
he misses you, even if you were only apart for a day, and with the way he kisses you so deeply, he has a feeling it shows.
you pull away, a flushed smile on your face as warmth cascades your head.
you laugh, "i get really good service here."
and osamu nods, smiling, "it's one of the few perks of being ambassador."
Fushiguro family based on an adorable dad prank video seen on twitter this week 🎈 don't mind me making this an AU so I can include Tsumiki and real puppies in the family 🥺
snowghoul
titsay
jbbartram-illu
blakekathryn
ellievsbear
