everything/nothing
“There is nothing between us. Not anymore.”
rated T | 8.4k words | sakuatsu
exes to lovers | angst with a happy ending
read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43306513
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@glucosehighs
everything/nothing
“There is nothing between us. Not anymore.”
rated T | 8.4k words | sakuatsu
exes to lovers | angst with a happy ending
read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43306513
Everyone on MSBY knows about Sakusa’s penchant for giving unnecessarily extravagant gifts on his teammates' birthdays. Because of his privileged upbringing and his small circle of friends growing up, Sakusa apparently has zero conception for what constitutes appropriate gifts.
Hinata’s birthday celebration is held at a little izakaya near the gym. The humble, quiet setting is completely at odds, however, with the giant claw machine Kiyoomi wheels in.
“Happy birthday, Hinata,” he grunts as he shoves the machine upright with his shoulder.
“W-what’s that, Omi-san?” Hinata asks.
Sakusa looks at him like he’s the one making no sense. “I asked you what you wanted for your birthday and you said you like arcade games? I asked Komori, and apparently this is the kind of game people play at those arcade places.”
Hinata looks faint. “I meant that we could all go to an arcade, or something! You didn’t need to get me a whole claw machine!”
Sakusa shrugs. “Too late, I already bought it. If you don’t want it, you can sell it, or something.”
Before Bokuto’s birthday, he’d been very careful not to drop any hints whatsoever about his gift of choice. Still, the entire team breathes a sigh of relief when Sakusa arrives at the party absent of any large boxes.
That is, until the time came for them to present their gifts.
After Inunaki gifted Bokuto with a voucher for his favourite sportswear brand, Sakusa clears his throat a little and places a long rectangular box on the table. Bokuto opens it and finds a row of five beautiful, incredibly expensive-looking watches, laid in crushed velvet.
“Uh,” Atsumu finds his voice first. “So are ya gonna make him choose one, or...”
“No? Those are all for him. Bokuto’s always late, so maybe if he has a watch he’ll finally learn to tell the time.” Sakusa’s jibe does little to hide the pleased smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Bokuto, on the other hand, is completely terrified. All the watches are clearly authentic models of some fancy European brand he can’t pronounce, and- oh god, are those diamonds embedded in the watch’s face? Bokuto cannot deal with this level of responsibility. He’s going to be mugged the moment he leaves this place.
Sakusa is still looking at him with an eager sparkle in his eyes though, and no one has the heart to tell him that once again, his gift is completely inappropriate. So Bokuto smiles weakly and thumps Sakusa on the back, and then surreptitiously shoots a panicked text to ask Akaashi to hire a few armed bodyguards to escort him home.
On Meian’s birthday, he decides that enough is enough. For all he appreciates the nanny Sakusa hired to babysit his kids, the sheer amount of money Sakusa is spending on his teammates’ birthdays simply does not sit right with him. More importantly, his teammates are increasingly pressured to match the extravagance of his gifts. Much to Bokuto’s despair, he can no longer give out his signature “free hugs” coupon book for birthdays. Adriah has had to switch from convenience store-bought wine to actual supermarket-bought wine.
“No more buying expensive gifts,” Meian says firmly. Sakusa pouts, and strikingly resembles Meian’s own children.
“We love them, but you know we’ll appreciate anything else you give us just as much, right?”
Sakusa reluctantly agrees, and Meian considers the matter settled.
By Atsumu’s birthday, he and Sakusa have started dating, and Sakusa announces that, as Atsumu’s boyfriend, he will be organising the celebration.
“Are you sure he won’t go overboard?” Barnes mutters worriedly to Meian.
“I talked to him about it,” Meian says dubiously. “It should be fine, right?”
They were proven wrong when the team arrives at Universal Studios Osaka at 10am on Saturday, to find the area completely deserted.
“Omi, are you sure the park isn’t closed today?” Atsumu asks tentatively.
“I should hope so,” Sakusa’s brows furrow. “Seeing as I requested for it.”
The team is suddenly aware that they are, indeed, the only people standing in the park. All the rides are operating and all the food stores are open, but apart from a couple of park attendants welcoming them in, the park is deserted.
“Sakusa-kun,” Meian says sternly. “I thought I said no more expensive gifts.”
Sakusa’s expression is immediately petulant. “You said no more buying expensive gifts. I simply rented the park. Atsumu hates waiting in line for amusement park rides.”
“Oh my god,” Meian thinks he’s about to have an aneurysm. “From now on, no one spends anything more than 3000 yen on birthdays. Understood?”
Sakusa looks mutinous, but nods anyway. Meian sighs, and lets the team loose in the park.
At the end of the day, Sakusa and Atsumu take the kiddy balloon ride to watch the sunset over the amusement park. In the peaceful silence that only comes with the absence of their rowdy team, Sakusa becomes Kiyoomi. Atsumu waits until the balloon is all the way up before venturing a cautious question.
“So,” Atsumu says, trying to focus on something other than how Kiyoomi’s eyes are gorgeous in the last golden rays streaking across the pink sky. “I love all of this, really. But without it- I’ll still like you just as much! I guess what I’m tryna say is- you don’t have to do all this.”
“I know,” Kiyoomi says. He gives one of his rare, precious smiles, and Atsumu tucks it away carefully in a corner of his heart. “But I want to, because I want to show you how much I like- no, love you.”
(Later, when the team asks why Atsumu’s eyes are red and swollen when they get off the ride, Atsumu will blame it on his allergies.)
With all this in mind, it’s understandable that Atsumu goes through something of a crisis when Kiyoomi’s birthday approaches. After all, what do you get the guy who has everything? After exhausting option number 42, Atsumu gives in and decides to call Komori.
He endures Komori’s shrill laughter for a whole minute after he explains his predicament to him. “Dude,” Komori says. “Don’t sweat it. Kiyoomi’s a simple guy, really. In fact, he’d probably hate any kind of extravagant party. In any case, you’re the unlucky bastard dating him. Shouldn’t you know him best?”
Unfortunately, Komori is right. Atsumu is forced to return to the drawing board to come up with something just as thoughtful as anything Kiyoomi gives his teammates on their birthdays.
On the day itself, Atsumu invents a few thinly veiled excuses for Kiyoomi to pick up some items at the supermarket, and enlists the help of Bokuto and Hinata to stall him there for an hour while he begins his preparations.
“... What’s all this?” Kiyoomi stops short in the doorway when he finally returns home at a quarter to seven.
Atsumu stands nervously in the middle of the sea of fairy lights that is their living room. “I was gonna have everyone over, but I knew it would make you stressed out about cleaning up and disinfecting after they left,” Atsumu says. “And I know you like eating at home more than anything. So I got ‘Samu to make some umeboshi onigiri and I rented the DVD for Spirited Away. I know it’s on Netflix, but you like supporting DVD rental shops so I-“
Atsumu is cut off, abruptly, by Kiyoomi crossing the apartment in a few strides and pressing their lips together. When they finally break apart, Kiyoomi rests his forehead against Atsumu’s and looks straight into his eyes. “Atsumu,” he says. “This is better than anything I could have asked for.”
It’s Kiyoomi’s birthday, so why on earth is Atsumu the one on the verge of tears? Kiyoomi laughs when he says as much, and Atsumu thinks, with a stunning degree of coherence, that he is going to marry this man one day.
“So you don’t hate it?” Atsumu asks again, for good measure.
“I love it,” Kiyoomi says emphatically. He presses a line of kisses from the tip of Atsumu’s ear to the base of his neck, and it takes a heroic amount of self control for Atsumu to pull away.
“Good,” Atsumu says, and steps aside to reveal their friends’ faces grinning at them from a laptop screen. “Because our friends are on video call right now, and we have to stop right here unless you want them to watch us, y’know...“
“Get some, Kiyoomi!” Komori’s tiny face hollers from the corner of the screen. Inunaki and Bokuto join in with shrill wolf whistles of their own. “Happy birthday, Omi-san!” Hinata shouts.
“You are all idiots,” Kiyoomi tells them, but his eyes are curved into little crescents so Atsumu knows that despite the quiet, nondescript celebration, he’s succeeded in giving Kiyoomi a birthday as memorable as any gift he’s given his teammates.
💋 💋
Atsumu, terrified at the prospect of dinner with Kiyoomi's very traditional parents for the first time, desperately calls Osamu for help. Osamu, completely clueless about old customs himself, forwards him a link to a website on British monarchical traditions.
The dinner is at Kiyoomi's parents' penthouse in the heart of Tokyo, and there are a couple of sharply dressed middle-aged men standing in front of the imposing double doors.
Oh god, Atsumu thinks. His worst fears from bingeing The Crown the night before are coming true.
"Quick, Omi," he mutters under his breath. "Who's the head of your family? Your mom or your dad?"
"Huh?" Kiyoomi only has time to throw him a quizzical look before the housekeepers- nay, footmen- throw the doors to the dining room open and announce their arrival.
The dining room is high-ceilinged and overlooks Tokyo, a sea of lights from the shiny glass windows. Atsumu is sure that the gleaming crystal chandelier costs ten years of his salary.
Kiyoomi's parents are already seated at the table, both of them in pressed suits. Kiyoomi's mother is seated at one end of the rectangular table, and her husband is seated beside her. They both smile as Kiyoomi and Atsumu walk in.
A matriarch, then, Atsumu thinks, grimly. He turns in the direction of Kiyoomi's mother and sinks into a curtsy.
"Ma'am," he says gravely. He does not rise from the ground, and keeps his gaze fixed downwards. After all, Netflix has taught him well.
And yet Kiyoomi's mother does not motion for him to stand. Atsumu's thighs are pro-athlete standard, and are definitely not aching. Was this some kind of test? Did all of Kiyoomi's boyfriends get this treatment, or was he singled out because of his comparatively humble background? He didn't count on Crazy Rich Asians coming to life, but-
Then Kiyoomi is yanking him upwards. "What the hell are you doing?" he hisses.
"Payin' my respects," Atsumu whispers back. "'Samu said that I'd be beheaded if I-"
Then he realises that Kiyoomi's parents are hiding their barely concealed mirth behind their hands. "What did I say about watching dramas before bedtime?" Kiyoomi admonishes.
Ah. Well. Atsumu still wants to flee the country, but now for a very different reason.
Kiyoomi's father lets out a huge guffaw, and then Kiyoomi is laughing, too, and Atsumu thinks that he'd gladly embarrass himself ten times over if he could make him laugh like that every day.
The rest of the dinner is smooth sailing, with Kiyoomi's parents being completely endeared by what they call Atsumu's "boyish charm". Atsumu claims that it'd been his plan the whole time, and Kiyoomi rolls his eyes but squeezes his hand under the table.
bonus: Atsumu, having been put on the planet for the purpose of making his brother's life miserable, tells Osamu that the website is right. Osamu, when meeting Suna's parents for the first time, pulls exactly the same move to equally disastrous results.
atsumu cant help from hoping <3
fancy omis
hinata laughing at atsumu's stupid jokes and atsumu being.. atsumu
thank you, haikyuu. (2012-2020)
All his life, Kiyoomi has been told that he is too much.
His first girlfriend breaks up with him in spring, and the raindrops pattering down on the concrete of the schoolyard almost drowns out the edge in her voice as she tells Kiyoomi that she can't be with someone who isn't as committed to a relationship as she is.
"I'm really sorry," she says. "I admire how much you love your club. I really do. But I don't want to spend my life being second place to volleyball. "
Kiyoomi takes it with grace. He forgets her within a month.
"When are you going to stop doing that?" his college boyfriend asks tiredly, years later.
Kiyoomi freezes in the middle of wiping down the study chair in his room, and turns to find him, arms folded in the doorway of his room.
"Really, Kiyoomi," he says. "You can't expect me to live like this forever."
"Like what?" Kiyoomi asks, even though he already knows the answer.
His boyfriend (soon to be ex) clicks his tongue in exasperation. "Are you really making me say it? You know I'll sound like the bad guy, Kiyoomi."
Kiyoomi has never hated the sound of his own name more. "Yes," he says brittlely. "Just so we're clear."
There is a pause, for a very long while. Kiyoomi flicks his gaze back to the stubborn stain on the seat of his chair, and scrubs a little harder than before. Then -
"Do you think you'll ever get better?"
Kiyoomi turns away fully, then, so he can't see the angry tears gathering in his eyes.
"I don't know," he says. "But you won't be around to find out."
Atsumu loves volleyball just as much as Kiyoomi does. He accepts gifts from Kiyoomi's fans on his behalf, and steadies Kiyoomi with a hand on the edge of his sleeve when Kiyoomi stumbles in a crowded bus because he refuses to grab on to the handlebars.
So when Atsumu confesses to Kiyoomi with all the bashfulness of a 13 year old girl in the locker room after a big game, handwritten letter and all, Kiyoomi can't quite believe his luck. He accepts so eagerly that it might have been embarrassing if not for Atsumu's own flushed cheeks, pink with happiness.
Of course, being a staunch believer in Murphy's Law, Kiyoomi isn't the least bit surprised when Atsumu shows up one day with a giant bouquet of flowers. Which isn't a problem in and of itself, except-
"Aren't you allergic to flowers?" Motoya's laughter crackles down the line as Kiyoomi pans the camera to the two dozen roses sitting in his bathtub.
Kiyoomi doesn't own a vase large enough to store two dozen roses, and he doesn't think his lungs are big enough to contain the sheer amount of love bursting through his veins.
"Yes," Kiyoomi replies. "But you're not to say a word of this to him."
"Oh my god," Motoya crows. "You have it so bad, Kiyoomi."
No shit, Kiyoomi thinks, even as he vehemently rubs at his running nose and exits the bathroom hastily.
The problem, however, was that Atsumu had taken Kiyoomi's watery eyes as a sign that he was just extremely moved by Atsumu's grand gesture. Which he was, but Kiyoomi's watery eyes were also, unfortunately, a sign of his allergic reaction. To his horror, Atsumu starts bringing him bouquets every day, giant sunflowers and tulips and forget-me-nots, just because "I love it when my prickly Omi-kun is touched! You look so adorable when you get all sniffly."
Kiyoomi can't bear to tell him the truth, not when Atsumu looks so pleased and endeared every time his eyes turn red whenever Atsumu presents him with a new bouquet. And deep down, he knows some part of him is afraid that if he tells him, Atsumu might just decide that /this/ is the straw that breaks the camel's back. And Kiyoomi knows that for the second time in his life, he's found something he can't bear to lose.
"You could always throw the flowers away, you know," Motoya points out amusedly.
Kiyoomi presses his lips together stubbornly, even as he curls up in his couch, a tissue pressed to his nose, the apartment behind him painted with a sea of floral hues.
"'M not going to," Kiyoomi says thickly. "It'd be a waste of his money."
Motoya mutters something that sounds a lot like "sap", and Kiyoomi graciously pretends not to hear him.
Of course, just as Motoya predicted, he is forced to call in sick from practice one day, his stuffy nose finally getting the better of him. He's steeling himself to finally clear the flowers from his apartment when his doorbell rings. Kiyoomi feels a sense of foreboding immediately creep up his spine.
"Omi-kun!" Atsumu calls cheerfully as he pushes past him into the apartment the moment Kiyoomi opens the door. "I brought ya soup for yer flu, and-"
Atsumu stops, his gaze landing on the giant pile of flowers sitting in the trash bag in the middle of the living room.
"I can explain," Kiyoomi says, feeling almost lightheaded.
Atsumu holds up a hand, and Kiyoomi cuts himself off. He prepares himself for the worst, and curses himself for forgetting Murphy's damn law.
"Omi-kun." Against all odds, somehow Atsumu's eyes are the ones that are filling with tears. "Do you not love me anymore?"
Of all the things he'd been expecting, Kiyoomi is completely unprepared for this. "What?" he manages to choke out.
"Y-you're throwin' away all the flowers I gave you, and you called sick from practice- oh my god, are you breaking up with me and transferring to another team?"
"What the hell," Kiyoomi says in disbelief, and then bursts into laughter.
Atsumu blinks at him in confusion, tears still running down his cheeks. "B-but-"
"I'm allergic to pollen," Kiyoomi confesses, the words tumbling out from his mouth in a rush. "I didn't want to tell you because you were so excited about them, and I know you put up with a lot from me already, and I just didn't want to give you something else to deal with."
"What?" Atsumu looks angry now. "Why the hell would I think that?"
"Because," Kiyoomi says, suddenly feeling very uncertain. "I don't know," he finishes lamely.
Atsumu jabs a finger aggressively at his chest. "Sakusa Kiyoomi," Atsumu starts. His brows are scrunched together furiously and his cheeks are still ruddy with emotion, but Kiyoomi has never loved the sound of his own name more.
"I dare you," he continues, "I double dare you. I triple dare you. To ever find something about yourself that I wouldn't want to put up with."
Kiyoomi nearly chokes on his own spit. "What?"
"You heard me," Atsumu says, crossing his arms stubbornly. His cheeks redden even more, but his voice is unwavering. "You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you hear?"
Kiyoomi is too stunned to speak for a moment, and Atsumu takes his silence for disbelief.
"Fine," Atsumu huffs. "I'll prove it to you."
The next day, Kiyoomi finds a giant bouquet of plastic roses waiting on top of his locker.
"Bit tacky, don't you think?" Inunaki remarks as he passes. "Think Atsumu finally went broke from all the real flowers?"
"No," Kiyoomi says, and shoots a smile at Atsumu's back, where he definitely isn't eavesdropping on their conversation. "I think it's perfect."
happy lunar new year! ✨🎉
MSBY, who are tired of watching Atsumu and Sakusa bicker non-stop on and off the court, decide to exploit their uber-competitiveness in an attempt to get them to bond.
They start simple.
"Atsumu-san!" Hinata calls. "How about a game of two-on-two! Bokuto-san and me versus you and Omi-san!"
"Why can't I be on a team with you or Bokuto?" Atsumu protests. "Omi-kun's stubborn ass is going to drag us both down."
Hinata shrugs. "I mean, it's no problem if you think you guys aren't going to play as well since you don't click-"
That does it. "No," Atsumu says immediately, a determined light coming into his eyes. "Come on, Omi-kun! These sets aren't gonna spike themselves."
The next time, Inunaki strolls over to Sakusa while they're on a water break, and goes, "Y'know, I found some old photos from the high school volleyball circuit the other day! I gotta say, you didn't change much, but Atsumu has sure bulked up since then!"
To the untrained eye, Sakusa is completely unfazed. But months of association means that Inunaki catches the almost invisible tick at the corner of Sakusa's eye.
"Why should I care about Miya's physique?" Sakusa scowls.
"You don't have to!" Inunaki says. "But- damn, look at those thighs now. I bet no one can lift him."
Sakusa's mouth presses itself into a hard line. "Hold my bottle," he says to Inunaki, and then marches over to where Atsumu is in an animated conversation with Bokuto.
"Omi-kun, what the f-" Atsumu barely manages to get a few words out before Sakusa is wrapping an arm around his shoulders and another around his knees and swinging him into a bridal carry.
As Sakusa glares triumphantly at Inunaki, the gymnasium falls into an awed silence.
"Alright, fine," Inunaki says placatingly. "You've made your point, Sakusa."
Atsumu, still very much cradled in Sakusa's arms, stares up at him. "So forward of you, Omi-kun! At least take me to dinner first-"
Sakusa promptly drops him.
After seeing the lengths the two are willing to go to for the sake of pride, the team's requests only get bolder.
Bokuto challenges them to an arm wrestling competition against each other, one that goes on for the entirety of ten minutes until Sakusa finally wins by blowing lightly in Atsumu's face. "I bet Atsumu is a better cook than Sakusa" results in what becomes fondly remembered as the Great MSBY Cook Off and the entire building being evacuated when a fire alarm is inevitably set off, which is how the team learns that they are both equally disastrous in the kitchen. (Neither of them refer to recipes when they cook). Everyone severely underestimates Sakusa's alcohol tolerance until they're all gaping as he downs six Jagerbombs in a row.
Even Atsumu looks intimidated by that. "Should've gone to college," he mutters.
At an away game, Inunaki makes the most audacious bet yet. "Atsumu," he calls. "We bet you and Sakusa can't share a room tonight."
There's instant pin-drop silence, and someone gasps theatrically.
Then Atsumu says. "You're on. But you're buying us dinner tomorrow if we do it."
"Deal," Inunaki says immediately.
Later, Bokuto remarks to Hinata, "I bet they're at each other's throats now."
"Yeah," Hinata nods vehemently. "Ten bucks says Omi-san is making him sleep in the bathtub."
They couldn't have been more wrong. As they speak, Atsumu and Sakusa have pushed the two single beds in their room together to form a giant bed, and have gotten under the covers together after their nightly skincare routine.
"Hey, Omi," Atsumu says. His back is pressed up against Sakusa's front, and Sakusa's chin is tucked on his shoulder as he slings an arm across his waist. "When are we gonna tell them that we're- y'know, dating?"
"How much have we gotten so far?" Sakusa asks.
Atsumu screws up his eyebrows in thought. "About seventy thousand yen in cash, three free dinners, so many free drinks..."
"Don't forget that we won that handheld massager from Barnes," Sakusa reminds him.
"Oh, yeah. And the spa trip from Bokuto," Atsumu says. "I still feel kind of bad about that, but also, not really."
"Have you gotten enough yet?" Sakusa asks, his breath tickling Atsumu's ear.
Atsumu hums, and threads their fingers together. "I heard about this amazing new brunch place in Shinmachi. Pity it's crazy expensive."
"Ah," Sakusa says. "I guess telling the team will just have to wait."
When Sakusa first joins MSBY, he is quiet and withdrawn, and responds in one-syllable answers to his teammates’ attempts to make conversation.
That is, until Miya Atsumu, still a second-string setter, loudly declares in the locker room one morning, “Water isn’t wet.”
The rest of the team barely reacts to this, used to Atsumu’s antics by now. But then from the corner of the room comes an indignant splutter.
“How the fuck is water not wet?” Before the team fully registers that, Sakusa is striding over to Atsumu’s locker and glaring at him ferociously.
Atsumu’s eyes dart around the room behind Sakusa, the face of a man who has poked a bear and is not prepared to face the consequences. His wordless cries for help are mercilessly ignored by his teammates, who are all wearing expressions of morbid curiosity.
“Well,” Atsumu steels himself to meet Sakusa’s eyes. “Water makes things wet. So how can it be wet? It’s like saying the chicken is the egg because the chicken makes the egg.”
Silence, like the calm before a storm. And then-
“How the hell did you pass the third grade?” Sakusa demands. “You should be in jail.”
Because Atsumu’s mouth functions as the equivalent of a chatbot on a dating site, he blurts out. “The only thing I would be in jail for is a crime of passion.”
Now, Sakusa has run into Atsumu a few times throughout his high school volleyball career, but never before has he been treated to such a lethal dosage of Miya Atsumu, and is left gaping like a goldfish. Atsumu, displaying some sort of self-preservation skill at last, seizes the opportunity and legs it out of the door immediately.
The incident, though utterly bizarre, is put at the back of everyone’s minds soon. Until one particularly gruelling five set match, when the last point was a spike from Sakusa which had gone out of bounds.
Sakusa hasn’t headed straight for the showers, like he usually does. Instead, he sits alone on the bench beside the court, a towel draped over his head.
Meian starts towards him, but Atsumu beats him to it. “The moon landing was fake!” he yells.
The team is utterly flabbergasted. Then, against all odds, Sakusa raises his head slowly to stare at Atsumu. Clearly feeling encouraged, Atsumu continues, “Yeah, dontcha know! The government shot it in a studio! Flags don’t wave on the moon!”
Then, before anyone really knows what’s going on, Sakusa is on his feet and yelling right back at Atsumu.“There were so many journalists witnessing it! How do you explain the astronauts landing in the ocean?”
Atsumu is slowly backing away in the direction of the locker rooms. “Planes land in the ocean all the time,” he says. “That doesn’t mean they’ve been to the moon.”
“Get back here,” Sakusa growls, and then the two of them vanish into the locker rooms, arguing loudly.
“You know,” Barnes overhears Hinata telling Bokuto later, “when my senpais said I had to watch out for locker room talk, this wasn’t quite what I imagined!”
The rest of the team slowly begins to pick up on Atsumu’s strategy. Whenever Sakusa looks like he’s on the verge of completely withdrawing into himself, someone would yell a completely untrue statement. Nine out of ten times, it immediately elicits some kind of visceral reaction from him.
On his worst days, though, only Atsumu is able to drag Sakusa out of his funk. “Evolution is a myth,” Atsumu would say. The team marvels at the fiery glint that immediately appears in Sakusa’s eyes. Within a few minutes, Sakusa would be back to normal.
When the new season rolls around, Atsumu is finally made the starting setter.
“You deserve it,” Meian tells him, completely sincerely. “There truly is no one who brings out the best in his spikers like you do.”
Only you
Itachiyama going for ice cream 🍦
Kiyoomi who’s completely clueless when it comes to adulting things because the only thing he’s learnt from his parents growing up is that if you throw money at a problem, you can hire people to solve it for you.
He grew up with a housekeeper who took care of his meals and who called the plumber and electrician when anything needed fixing, so he’s never learnt any basic skills.
Did he finally pick some things up in university? Absolutely not, he refused to stay with those slobs in campus housing. Since his family home is in Tokyo anyway, he opts to take the train home everyday instead.
Moving to Osaka to join MSBY is a massive cultural shock. He eats takeout for a whole month before he finally has had enough of the MSG and preservatives going into his body and money leaking out of his wallet (takeout is expensive for Omi’s rich boy tastebuds) and buys a single knife and a chopping board. He then lives on salad every day until the team’s dietician notices he’s not been putting on much muscle mass and instructs him to include meat in every meal.
That’s when he caves and asks, through gritted teeth, if any of his teammates knows how to cook and would be willing to show him. That brings a round of slow blinks from around the room.
Hinata breaks the silence. “Y-you don’t know how to cook, Omi-san?”
“Don’t look so shocked,” he grumbles. “I’m doing the restaurants near my area a favour, you know.”
“When you say you don’t know how to cook,” Atsumu ventures. “Do you mean like, you can’t cook nice fancy meals?”
He stares Atsumu dead in the eye when he replies. “I’ve never cooked an egg in my life.”
This causes something of an uproar in the locker room. “Never cooked an egg in your life,” Bokuto, who snacks on at least a dozen boiled eggs a day, looks almost faint.
The team then decided unanimously, without consulting him whatsoever, that it is of paramount importance that he should learn how to cook. They assign Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata the task, and the three of them show up on his doorstep that Saturday, armed with bags of groceries.
“Where are all your pots and pans, Omi-san?” Hinata’s brow is furrowed as he pulls open empty drawer after empty drawer in the kitchen.
“I don’t see the need to own them,” Kiyoomi sniffs. “Oh, and be careful going into the toilet. One of the light bulbs stopped working, so I’m going to have to move out soon.”
“You’re going to move out,” Atsumu repeats in a monotone, “because one of your lightbulbs is blown.”
Kiyoomi honestly does not see anything wrong with his logic. “Yes, the apartment is no longer functional, so I’ll have to move.”
“How are you still alive?” Bokuto wonders with complete sincerity.
Kiyoomi shrugs. He doesn’t have a response to that.
The three of them get started on Kiyoomi’s unofficial education, coming over every weekend to teach him a new life skill. Bokuto teaches him how to change a lightbulb. Hinata shares recipes for quick meals from his time in Brazil, and falls over from laughing when Kiyoomi admits that he doesn’t know how to operate a microwave. Atsumu, who has apparently spent much time helping his brother start his restaurant, patiently teaches Kiyoomi how to do his taxes.
Slowly, Kiyoomi starts to pick up these skills. It takes him a whole weekend of trial and error and ten different youtube videos, but the MSBY group chat floods with congratulatory messages when Kiyoomi shares that he fixed a leaky pipe in the bathroom all by himself. He manages not to freak out at the sight of a cockroach in his house, and instead manages to gather the guts to trap it under a container and fling it out of the window. (Atsumu sheds tears of pride when he recounts that particular anecdote to him). Finally, seven months after joining the Black Jackals, he invites the team over to his house for a home-cooked meal.
“So how likely is it that I’m going to get food-poisoning from this?” Inunaki is only half-joking. “I mean, I still remember how Bokuto told us that your first fried egg was crunchy because of all the bits of egg shell he found in it.”
Kiyoomi keeps his expression as neutral as possible as he lays the dishes out on the dining table. “Only one way to find out,” he intones.
He watches as the team tentatively goes to take a bite of the food, and watches as their shoulders relax in relief, and the expressions on their faces turn to pure delight.
“Wow, Omi-kun!” Bokuto exclaims. “This is really, really good!”
“Yeah,” Atsumu chips in. “What can I say, you might just give my brother a run for his money.” The team hums in agreement, and praises him for the meal.
Kiyoomi smiles to himself, and tries not to eye the seemingly innocuous kitchen cupboard where he’d stashed the takeout containers just seconds before the team had piled in. After all, no one needs to know about the disaster of a burnt pile sitting at the bottom of his trash bin.
Anyway, as far as Kiyoomi is concerned, he couldn’t care less about not being able to cook or do any of those adult things his peers did. Why would he? If he ever needs anything, he has his family right here to help him out.