CHAPTER ONE - FIRST IMPRESSIONS
The Interhigh National Tournament. One of the most important things for a high school volleyball team - itâs the ultimate test to see who has it in them to stand on the national stage, trampling any competition underfoot. For two schools - Inarizaki High and Itachiyama Institute - it was more; it was a way to see who was the greatest out of them. For those wishing to go pro in the two powerhouse schools, it was even comparable to a life or death situation.
So it came as no surprise when a certain Miya Atsumu - upon hearing of this rivalry - decided to watch Itachiyama play, eager to study their playstyle. After all, he was blessed - as he was known to crow about - with being the best setter of his generation. Even if the title wasnât official, he was sure it ought to be. He managed to claw his way into the starting line up for the powerhouse known as Inarizaki as their starting setter, and was only a first year. He was confident that things could only go up from here.Â
When he first got to official practice; not that dumb try-out week which he apparently had to do with the rest of the scrubs, he was ecstatic. He got to play with his brother at the best school in the HyĆgo Prefecture, and not only that, he was beating him! Osamu wasnât a starter like he was - proving once and for all that Atsumu was the superior twin! Oh, how he rubbed it in Osamuâs face for months: not only was he in the smarter class, he was also in the starting line up while his brother wasnât. He tried his best to ignore how Osamu didnât seem all that phased about not being a starter - he was probably just tired. Or hungry.Â
Of course, even then, he still was greeted with constant scowls, mutterings, delegations of unnecessary work and sometimes even downright insults. Of course he pretended not to notice how theyâd back off the next day, bruised from what was probably Osamuâs silent revenge for insulting his brother.
âNot everything is perfect, but at least this isnât bad.â Atsumu thought to himself, as he got patched up by his mum after another meaningless fight with his twin. If only he knew how much things would change following Nationals.Â
Sakusa Kiyoomi enjoyed a strict schedule. How else was he meant to keep up with what he was meant to be doing? If the schedule changes slightly, thatâs fine. Schedules could change so long as nothing disgusting got in the way. So why is it that the annoyingly yellow head of hair that he keeps seeing in the sea of spectators was bothering him so much? He didnât know who it belonged to, but it was just as much of an eyesore as the kit Kiyoomi himself was sporting.
Since he was little, Sakusa Kiyoomi knew he was different. His cousin - Komori Motoya - was the same age as him and was so, so different. Despite them not being close at first, Kiyoomi was painfully aware of him. Of his easy-going nature, of his large, genuine smiles, of his simple existence. And especially of how people managed to talk to him as if it was as simple as breathing. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi watched as people struggled to figure out how best to talk to him, painfully aware of every side eye, hesitation, tremor in their voices. He was an uncomfortable person to be around.
When they first started playing volleyball in school, Kiyoomi wasnât sure if he would like it. The gym smelled faintly of sweat, rubber soles and the sound of balls slamming against the hardwood floor and squeaky shoes was echoing wherever he turned. However, he found that that was all relaxing to a certain degree. What bothered him was the ball - slick with strangersâ sweat, coated in their germs, their disgusting germs whichâll cling to him no matter what he does.
He couldnât even tell that he was panicking and backing away before he bumped into him.Â
His cousin. The social butterfly.Â
âAre you ok?â Komori asks, his head tilting and all that Kiyoomi can think is how stupid his small round eyebrows look as he nods stiffly.Â
âAre you sure? You donât look okay, Kiyoomi-kun.â Komori presses forward, as if Kiyoomiâs lying.
âIâm fine. And weâre not close enough for you to call me by my first name, donât you know any manners?â Kiyoomi snaps at the brunette, regretting the words as soon as they come out. He can already feel the distance between them increasing - now this is just another person who will hate him.
âWell weâre cousins, right? I thought I could!â Komori smiles - such a pure smile which could put the sun to shame. âYou can also call me Motoya, okay?â
Kiyoomi blinks, caught off guard by the brightness of that smile. It wasnât like the fake, polite ones heâd seen from classmates, nor the tired smiles of his parents as he talks about his day at the dinner table. This one was real, unfiltered and didnât come with any expectations. For some reason, that made him feel even more pressured to be good.
Before he could think of a reason to refuse, he found himself nodding, unsure of what he was agreeing to.
âItâs up!â Motoya calls, receiving the ball from the server on the other team and sending it straight to Iizuna, their teamâs setter. Iizuna tosses the ball up, a high and fast set - Kiyoomiâs favourite. As he runs up, he jumps and hits the ball over the net, smashing through the blockers. He smiled softly as he watched the ball fly off the arms of their libero. The referee blows the whistle, marking it as Itachiyamaâs point as they take the second set and the entire game.
Atsumu whistled in appreciation as he watched the game end. That number 10 with his insane spin was definitely something to look out for. He was already looking forward to playing them. He unconsciously licks his lips as he leans forward on the railing. âDidja see that, Samu? Heâs incredible. I canât wait to beat him.â
âYouâre way too confident. Thereâs no guarantee weâll take the game from them, âOsamu replies, not even looking at his brother as he speaks, too busy focusing on the court, âthe damn ferrets are good at the game.âÂ
Before Atsumu can figure out a retort, a monotone voice pipes up. âWhat are you two arguing about this time?â asks Suna Rintarou, one eyebrow raised as he leans on the railing next to Osamu.Â
Atsumu pretends to not notice how Osamu seems to relax into Sunaâs side slightly and what it could mean. âWeâre not arguing, Sunarin. Iâm just tryna tell Samu that weâre going to crush Itachiyama and that damn spiker when we play them.â
âRight. Because youâll be the one receiving and blocking Sakusa-sanâs spikes.â Suna scoffs, blinking slowly.
âHey! I could!â Atsumu retorts immediately, puffing his chest out as if to make him seem bigger.
âYouâre our setter Tsumu.â Osamu says, finally looking away from the court as Itachiyama and the other school leave the court. âJust focus on that and if they target you, then you can show everyone how good you are at crushing Sakusa-san.âÂ
âI doubt they will.â Suna says, rolling his eyes. âYouâre just a first year, after all. Even if you are on the starting line up, you might not be that big of a threat for them.â
âScrew you, Sunarin. We should send you back to Aichi.â Atsumu scoffs, yelping as Osamu smacks his head. âYouâre an asshole, Samu!â Atsumu snarls at his brother, rubbing his head.
Aran sighs, shaking his head as he watches the three first years after Ginjima went to go get him in case a fight broke out. He might be a second year and not have as much weight in things like his captain does, but the twins tend to listen to him and his friend Kita more than they do to others. âOkay guys, wrap it up. We have to get ready. Semifinals time.â
While Suna seems to deflate, he huffs and gets ready to go down to the court, Atsumu and Osamu grin as they get ready to race each other down.Â
Atsumu had a good feeling about this all. He was going to win this match and then play Itachiyama in the finals and win the whole thing. He was sure of it.
a/n: ahhh first chapter!!! i absolutely love these guys sm like omg (also if you think âhuh why is the volleyball playing scene so shortâ its cuz i cant write volleyball playing and i fear i never will đ„°)
divider creds: @enchanthings-a
taglist: @skatsusa , open
