Robot Nina

Grumpy robot with way too much HQ tumbling around in my brain at any given moment | 21

[gajirart]

POV. Your boyfriend came all the way from Tokyo to play volleyball

[tamoru]

bo 🦉🌟

[h4mmiee]

pov: you just rolled up to training camp

[robotkiyoomi]

Reverse Timelines - SakuOi

Unrequited love w/ SakuAtsu and IwaOi | Olympics Angsttt

Or Oikawa meets Kiyoomi on a balcony at the Olympics after party and gives some advice from one person who had been in the same situation to another and an odd friendship/connection forms.

==

“Kusa-kun,” a voice calls. Confused, Kiyoomi slowly turns towards the approaching stranger.

“Oikawa Toru,” He replies, brow furrowed. At a party like this, he can easily say that Oikawa is one of the last people he expected to see here.

“I hope you don't mind me stealing this hiding spot too for a bit,” Oikawa says, flashing a smile. Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow in question but lets the man join him at the railing. From what he can observe of the setter, something’s off. His usual ‘at ease’ mannerisms seem tense and forced, something Kiyoomi is all too familiar with in social situations. He also has to admit he is curious about the larger than life opponent.

“Congratulations on the win,” Kiyoomi says, if only to be polite.

“Thank you,” Oikawa responds, nodding and giving a tired smile. Kiyoomi can tell they are carefully studying each other even in this casual conversation, and significantly more so than the average person. Despite their opposite nature, they are both meticulously and silently observant of others. Oikawa is the type of setter to carefully assess everyone on and off the court. Setters, such as Kageyama, tend to lose all their attentiveness the moment they leave the court.

A familiar loud and bellowing laugh snags Kiyoomi’s attention and he looks back over his shoulder at Atsumu briefly before remembering his company. Oikawa’s watching him intently, head cocked slightly to the side, as Kiyoomi awkwardly clears his throat and returns his gaze forward. Neither of them speak for several seconds, and he’s starting to plot how he can leave this interaction ASAP, when Oikawa breaks the silence,

“I used to be like Atsumu-kun, and,” Oikawa starts, a sad tight smile on his face as he looks out at the skyline. Kiyoomi had honestly never given the setter much thought beyond his first outward appearance. Seeing Oikawa now, voice scratchy and hollow, as he tries to hold himself together, it makes a part of Kiyoomi’s heart hurt too. Feels himself reflected in Oikawa’s mannerisms right now a little too much. So, he lets the setter continue on whatever sudden story he has.

“You know, I always thought it would be Hajime and I in the end. That no matter what happened, or how much time passed, we were always meant to be it,” Oikawa pauses for a long moment, eyes closed as he composes himself before continuing.

“It seems so fucking stupid now.” Kiyoomi doesn’t know why he has the urge to deny that, he only officially met the man today and god knows he is not the comforting type.

“I was young and dumb. The world seemed so big and I was selfish, wanting it all. Wanting the most fame, the parties, the hook ups, everything. I felt fucking invincible in my early 20s.” Oikawa straightens and turns to look into the sea of people in the venue. Music, voices, and the occasional laugh can still be heard softly on the balcony. Kiyoomi follows Oikawa’s gaze and despite the crowd, knows exactly what it lands on. Who it lands on. Iwaizumi Hajime, who has his arm wrapped around his partner's waist and is smiling while talking to a group of people who look vaguely familiar.

“I ran out of time.” Oikawa says, and his voice sounds the most empty it's been all night.

“I got my shit together and worked on things and was planning to come back to confess again, make up for everything. But I was too late, he’d moved on long ago and is thinking about marriage with someone else.”

That was the thing about life, you couldn’t ever get time back or properly make up for it. We are always running out of time, chasing it until we die.

“So as someone who was Atsumu, the dopamine rushes don’t last. And the people like Iwaizumi,” Oikawa glances over and smiles. Kiyoomi is frozen in the story, his feelings a jumbled horrifying mess.

“They end up alright eventually. So it hurts like hell now, but there is a better future ahead.”

Oikawa Toru talked about what shattered him, something that he wasn’t sure that he would ever heal from without letting a single tear fall from his eyes.

“You’ll have a better future,” Kiyoomi says a bit awkwardly. Oikawa looked stunned for a moment at his words. He had never been great at deep conversations or emotions, and all this with a near stranger was an added challenge.

“You deserve that too.” Kiyoomi adds, finding his stride more.

“We are humans and make mistakes, especially growing up. It is so shitty that growth made the timelines not align with Iwaizumi-san but the growth is something to be proud of. I am someone who has had to go through a lot to grow and become the person I am today and it was fucking hard, but I’m proud of it,” Kiyoomi had been looking out at the stars while talking. The unspoken but understood default location to avoid eye contact when it was too hard to bear. His eyes met Oikawa’s now.

“I get the feeling you’re the same way.” Oikawa bites his bottom lip and tilts his head up to the sky in response to the words.

“Don’t punish yourself or your process for it. You made a mistake when you were young and hurt someone, we all do. But it’s just accepting the hard truth that life sucks sometimes.”

“Are you suggesting nihilism?” Oikawa says, breaking into his first smirk. Kiyoomi dead pans.

“No, idiot. I’m suggesting that you don’t blame yourself for everything and work with the shitty things to find the good.” Kiyoomi says. He’s talking instinctively, a very unnatural thing for him, and the words feel like a rant that has been shimmering inside. Oikawa, he decides, makes him entirely too rambly.

“Huh, when did you become so wise?” Oikawa asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. Kiyoomi shakes his head and goes back to lean against the railing.

“You’re the old one that came out here sharing the introspective wisdom,” He prods back.

“Losing the love of your life, does that to a person.” Oikawa responds, nudging his shoulder. The words stab him deeper than expected.

“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi says quietly, unsure what prompts him to voice this.

“For what it’s worth, you seem like someone worth the wait. He’s missing out.”

Oikawa and Kiyoomi, both leaning against the railing in almost the same situation, feeling the same thing, but in opposite roles and inverse positions. As if picking up on this thought Oikawa says,

“It’s a little ironic and cruel that given the situation and timing, still neither of us is happy now.” Kiyoomi chuckles, but there's no humor in it. If history repeated itself, there would be no happy endings for everyone. Both pairs were all they would ever be to each other, and nothing more.

“It almost feels like a time travel movie, where I’m the old sad person coming to talk to you from the past to make sure you don’t hurt from my mistakes,” Oikawa says, eyes glinting suddenly. Kiyoomi wasn’t following.

“What?” He says, completely lost.

“I like aliens and outer space a lot. Time travels up there too.” Oikawa clarifies as if they’re casual friends hanging out and not spilling deep vulnerabilities after having just met. Kiyoomi stares at Oikawa blankly.

“After everything tonight, this is what you look at me like I’m crazy for?!” Oikawa exclaims, outraged. Kiyoomi can see the similarities in personality between Oikawa and Atsumu, so much so that they would either be best friends or despise each other with no inbetween. He can see how Oikawa carries himself with a more mature perspective, coming out here (away from the party and spotlight) to comfort a stranger.

Kiyoomi glances back to the party where he can instantly spot Atsumu. His hair is ruffled and his button up has been undone a few more buttons. Atsumu is in the center of the dance floor, where the most eyes are, pressed up behind a girl with a drink in one hand and his other on her waist. He’s peppering kisses up and down her neck as she moves her hips to the beat against his crotch. Atsumu’s cackle at the thought of being in a relationship with Kiyoomi plays in his mind and he looks away.

“Omg no, Omi and I would be a train wreck. Aren’t things supposed ta be fun and easy? Why would you want to force difficulty?” Atsumu had said, like Kiyoomi wasn’t also in the room and a human being.

“Does it really have to suck for both of us?” Kiyoomi asks, studying the side of Oikawa’s face. The setter's features look hauntingly majestic in the moonlight. He was truly gorgeous, there was no doubt about that.

“What do you mean?” Oikawa asks, brown eyes, a shade slightly lighter than the ones Kiyoomi was used to, meeting his own. The two setters were unnervingly similar, but Oikawa had years of growth that was noticeable if you looked carefully. Why couldn’t they all get happy endings? Oikawa certainly deserved one, and Kiyoomi desperately wanted to be put out of his misery too.

“Can I propose something that might sound insane?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow in confusion but gestured for Kiyoomi to continue. “Can I kiss you? Just once. Just to see if maybe, in this hell we’re both living in, there’s something there.” Kiyoomi asks. He knows this idea is dumb and probably unhealthy but there’s a tug he can’t deny to Oikawa. A connection he doesn’t feel with, really anyone.

Kiyoomi is 24, at the after part of his first olympics, and just spilled more information to a stranger than most of his friends in the last 15 minutes. So yeah, he was willing to take a crazy leap of faith for Oikawa Toru. The setter laughed, and it was an easy sound that Kiyoomi knew made others stop and stare.

“Yeah, you know what? I’m in.” Oikawa says, straightening up from the railing, still chuckling.

“I’m starting to think I make poor decisions around you,” Kiyoomi says, suppressing a smile and shaking his head in disapproval.

“Huh, you haven’t been the first to tell me that actually?” Oikawa says, carefully wrapping his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck, eyes looking for any sight of discomfort.

“Have you ever thought that you may be the problem then?” Kiyoomi prods, if only to calm the fluttering in his body. Oikawa turns his head in mock consideration.

“No, honestly, I don’t think that’s it.” He responds, shrugging. Kiyoomi laughs and tilts his head to brush their noses together. It could be so easy like this. It feels so easy like this.

“You sure?” Kiyoomi murmurs, one hand coming up to cup Oikawa’s cheek gently. Oikawa nods, the gesture making their lips brush momentarily.

“Never took you for a wimp,” Oikawa replies. Kiyoomi shakes his head with a mumbled ‘idiot’ before leaning in to the kiss.

There are many different types of kisses that happen at a party like this and Kiyoomi didn’t quite know what to expect from this one. He knew it wouldn’t be a sloppy makeout. After spilling depressing life stories he didn’t think either of them were in the mood for that. It could’ve been just a quick peck but ultimately that wouldn’t have been very telling. In reality the kiss felt so deeply intimate and vulnerable Kiyoomi wasn’t sure he had ever experienced something like this before. The feeling wasn’t in a way that was scary. No, it felt like being able to finally rest.

Kiyoomi caressed the brunette’s cheek one last time before pulling away. Oikawa made people feel at home but,

“I’m sorry, I can’t be Atsumu,” Oikawa says, shrugging. The kiss was objectively good, both in sync and skilled, but still not quite right.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kiyoomi says honestly, and means it. There is no reason for him to be sorry at all.

“I know I can never be Iwaizumi for you,” Oikawa smiles softly and Kiyoomi smiles back.

“I think we’re going to be great friends Kiyo-kun,” Oikawa says, with no room for argument in his tone.

“We went from Kusa-kun to Kiyo-kun?” He asks.

“Yes, I think after everything I get the first name privilege,” Kiyoomi thought it might be weird after but they stood there with their foreheads pressed against each other, both laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Just being together rather than alone made the weight they carried a little easier for a moment.

In his element, like this, honest, kind, and sincere Oikawa was someone you were safe with. While Atsumu’s life was full of precarious and uncertain circumstances, Oikawa was a solid force that showed up. Kiyoomi needed consistency in his life, he thrived off of that. So why couldn’t he separate Atsumu from the idea of Atsumu in his head even when faced with someone so clearly better for him?

“We are clearly both going through shit and I haven’t been to many places in Tokyo, you wanna get outta here and you can show me around?” Oikawa asks, eyes narrowing as if he could tell the direction the spikers' thoughts had gone.

“Yeah, why not.” Kiyoomi agrees, because not only one but two perfect men were put in his life but placed just out of reach.

—

Atsumu goes to take a sip of his drink and comes back empty. He’s sweating from all the bodies pressed together, so he excuses himself to get a refill from the bar.

“I’m going to get another drink,” He says, in the girl's ear as he brushes her hair back.

“Come back after,” she says as she grinds her ass back hard on all the right places.

“Of course babygirl,” Atsumu says, meeting her motions to seek out friction for a moment before weaving his way out of the crowd. Damn he loved the Olympics. A get together of horny athletes happy to never see each other again.

While the bartender makes his drink he leans his back against the bar, looking out at the sea of faces. He notices a balcony he didn't see before and spots a familiar figure looking out at the night sky. Sakusa. Unsurprising as this event sounds like his personal hell. Sakusa turns so his back is no longer toward Atsumu and his lips are moving. Atsumu moves a few steps to the left to get a better view of the balcony and is surprised to see someone who looks like Oikawa Toru in conversation with Sakusa. Unlike Sakusa, Oikawa seems like someone who would be at the party flaunting the medal and not hidden away outside.

Atsumu hates surprises, hates not knowing things, that’s why it feels like a kick to the gut when he sees Sakusa and Oikawa kiss. The kiss isn’t a heated or sloppy make out; it's meaningful and intimate. Touch adverse Sakusa has Oikawa’s cheek cupped with one hand, his thumb stroking gently. Oikawa has both arms wrapped around Omi’s neck, fingers playing with the black curls idly. The kiss hasn’t stopped. Omi allowed it, and was continuing it. Something akin to heartburn makes Atsumu feel physically sick, his body rejecting what he’s experiencing.

When the kiss finally stops, they pull back to rest their foreheads against each other. Something about the sincerity of their actions paralyzes Atsumu. Neither have drinks, they are purposely and consciously choosing this. Laughing like the party isn’t there.

“Miya-san,” A voice says, breaking Atsumu from his thoughts. He turns to see the bartender holding out a drink

—

Hajime honestly had no clue what the group's conversation was currently about. His eyes scanned the crowd looking for Oikawa. Not that he would admit it, but he had thought the setter would be hovering around like he used to. Secretly Hajime’s heart was so full with pride for his best friend’s win today. Secretly, the lack of appearances had him aimlessly looking around all night.

“Isn’t that right Hajime,” Akira says next to him, placing a wet kiss on his cheek. Snapping back into the conversation he nods, in agreement to who knows what. He can see the tight lipped smile she shoots him, telling him that his zone out isn't as subtle as he thought. Hajime gives an apologetic smile and fixes his sagging arm around her waist.

“Sorry, have you seen Oikawa?” Hajime asks the first teammate of his he spots. The middle block takes a moment to understand his poor pronunciation.

“No, last I heard he had gone out to get some air about 40 minutes ago.” Emil responds, thankfully in english.

Hajime halts in time to see Oikawa kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi. At first Hajime squints to make sure he isn’t seeing things because that combination doesn’t make sense in the best of times let alone a party where they gravitate towards polar opposites. Oikawa has had partners in the past, Hajime has met a fair few of them, but none of them had been serious. Volleyball had captured Oikawa’s heart since he was a kid and no one and nothing else could compete. His friend had never seemed too bummed about the short flings and hookups and Hajime had assumed that was all he wanted. This kiss was different. He had seen enough kisses, kissed enough people, and more importantly knew Oikawa Toru enough to see the gentle intimacy in the exchange. It wasn’t a sloppy party make out, Oikawa had calculated every outcome like he does with volleyball and chose to kiss Sakusa. Chose to wrap his arms around the taller spiker and smile in between the kisses. Sakusa’s hands came up to cup both of the setters' cheeks so carefully.

Hajime watched them laugh, foreheads pressed together, exchanging whispered words. Oikawa was like a star, so fucking bright and streaking across the galaxy. He couldn’t be contained, kept, or had. He was brilliant, annoying, cocky, loyal, and kind. No one got to be with Toru, he would only slip through your fingers; but here was Sakusa, physically holding Oikawa, and Oikawa was looking at him like no one else.

Iwaizumi Hajime knew he would never be able to keep up with Oikawa Toru, that eventually he’d slip out of reach, and he was okay with that because he’s been able to run beside him for over 2 decades. He’ll continue to run with everything in him to stay there until his lungs give out. Yet he thought that the transition would be slow, like the sand falling in an hourglass. Oikawa would drift away and Hajime would get used to this – be able to prepare himself for this. He didn’t get to in the end.

—

Tbc? Fin? That’s up to you.

[rkgknno]

Color sketch requests from ig~ 

[robotkiyoomi]

IwaOi| I put my armour on, show you how strong I am

IwaOi Timeskip | aka a the start of a fic where I project my lupus diagnosis story/experiences onto Oikawa (I just quit wanting to read it for grammar but maybe I’ll go back to do it one day)

“Thank you everyone. Have a good evening.” The professor said as class ended. Oikawa got up from his chair, stretched, and stifled a yawn. He had tried to pay attention and was excited after his first day but as much as he tried to avoid it, that hollow coldness was still settled in his chest. Oikawa followed the swarm of students that flowed out of the lecture hall and paused in the hallway outside to check the time on his phone.

4:50PM

Below was a notification for a news article that he quickly cleared after a brief glance at the title. He didn’t need that right now and wasn’t ready to really think about it either. 7 weeks. It had been 7 weeks since the rug had been pulled out from under Oikawa and it didn’t feel any easier. He knew it had happened, despite hating it, but wasn’t sure what to do with himself moving forward. People would probably say it was stupid, but it felt like a piece of himself had been ripped out and then was shoved into a body he didn’t recognize.

I guess it isn’t that far off.

After one season of accomplishing his dream to play as a starter on Club Athletico San Juan, Oikawa had been put on leave for at least 2 years because of his knee. He had injured his left knee back in high school when he didn’t know his limits and had pushed too far. Since then, however, Oikawa had taken care of his knee and made sure he was always safe when playing.

It didn’t matter though, he thought bitterly. After the first season had just ended, his knee started to hurt more than usual which he didn’t think much of until the pain had started spreading to his whole leg. Oikawa had seen a few doctors, who were unsure of the cause, but believed it was not due to the old injury. The pain was worse than the original injury had been and fluctuated in severity. A referral to a specialist, Oikawa had been informed that he could not maintain a lifestyle as a professional athlete while the nature of his pain was unknown. Things didn’t look great following this but got worse when the blood results came back suggesting that the cause may be rheumatological or nerve damage requiring a knee replacement.

A day after, Oikawa was pulled aside by the head coach and team manager and told for his health they would be sending him on leave until he had the all clear from a medical professional to come back. The words were very kind and Oikawa saw the apologetic look in their eyes, but it didn’t make it any better. He had worked since he was a child to go pro, moved across the world for it, and after one season Oikawa had lost it all from something out of his control. He had been signed despite never making it to nationals. It was the happiest day of Oikawa’s life when he got the call and the day he was told to leave was one of the worst days. A loose end let go because he was nothing but a liability that couldn’t keep up again.

With no reason to be in Argentina anymore and his health getting worse, Oikawa moved back to Japan and stayed with his parents. There he was referred to a rheumatologist in Tokyo. He prayed for the solution to be a knee replacement because that was a concrete fix, it was a year and a half waiting list and then rehabilitation period, but it had a solution. The other option…. There were things to help manage it, but the condition was permanent.

2 weeks after arriving back in Japan, the pain started to mirror itself on the right leg which pointed in the latter direction. At 20 years old Oikawa Toru had uncontrollably sobbed and watched New Girl. Tried to drown out the reality that was coming for him whether he wanted it or not. Nothing would change the stabbing pain radiating from his joints, but it was nice to pretend for a minute. Small moments of numbness that isn't a long term fix but let you breath enough to avoid being pulled completely under.

That’s the curious thing about life, no matter how much you run and try to convince yourself that everything is okay, life demands to be heard. We are nothing but pawns at the mercy of a world that is not kind.

Days morphed into weeks. Oikawa couldn’t get out of bed some days, some days he couldn’t pick up a glass of water. Oikawa was back in his childhood house being taken care of by his parents. He was an adult now but as helpless as a young child. His life's progress was reversing like a moving being rewinded and he could only watch. He had never realized how busy life constantly was until the days were spent in bed alone with his thoughts. The silence wasn’t peaceful or relaxing, it felt suffocating, like a taunting reminder of everything.

So here he stood, a new student enrolled in Tokyo University. When Oikawa first returned to Japan he spent a little over a month stuck in his room. He had been mad and sad, and then had been mad that he was sad. Oikawa wouldn’t be returning to the team for at least 2 years so his parents had encouraged him to go to school during the time and work on other skills in the meantime. He had agreed because what else was he going to do? Sit with his own thoughts for 2 years? Yeah, no thanks.

When news had travelled of his plans to go to school, Oikawa’s coach had reached out, offering to get him an in with the collegiate volleyball staff. He had been hesitant at first however the school's team ironically consisted of many players Oikawa had known in high school. Putting on a brave face he accepted when he received a call offering him an assistant coach position for the college team that Maki, Mattsun, Daichi, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi play on. He wouldn’t be playing but it’s something close to the court. Oikawa wasn’t sure if that would make it more painful or less.

There was little progress with figuring out what was happening in his body, but he was prescribed meloxicam to help with the pain and had been able to slowly move around. ‘Move’ made it sound more impressive than what the reality was, when his muscles are exhausted walking turns into an awkward hobble limp. But it was progress. Progress, he repeated to himself. Oikawa wanted to be okay with things, wanted to not complain, and wanted to be able to do something with his life, even if he felt stuck. Caught up in a current that was too strong to swim against. A fish tirelessly swimming and never moving forward yet giving everything to prevent being swept away. He went back and forth between feeling like the situation sucked to, invalidating himself for complaining about shit people would kill for.

Fuck. He had never been in his head this much, and it was an unpleasant realization to see that he hated thinking about life. He had done research as soon as he was told what this could potentially be and saw that medical invalidation was a big struggle in the invisible disability community yet currently, he was arguing either side with gusto depending on the day.

Suck it internet, I don’t need a doctor to gaslight me, I’m already questioning myself on my own thank you very much. Oikawa thought to himself and cringed at the vindication he had felt arguing himself. A true toxic relationship run by a one man show.

Iwaizumi Hajime. Over the past year Oikawa slowly hadn’t kept in touch as much. He had been living his dream so much that he had gotten caught up in things. They had talked every couple of weeks but Oikawa knew that was nothing compared to high school when they would spend every single day together.

He had almost called when he got the news. Oikawa’s finger hovered over Iwaizumi’s number so many times but he had no clue what he was supposed to say. Oikawa knew he had a lot to make up for, a lot of missed calls, texts, and time. He couldn’t call only when he needed something after all that, it wouldn’t be fair and as much as he was shittykawa, he wasn’t that shitty. So, he didn’t. Oikawa considered if the other boy ever wondered why he didn’t call. Iwaizumi had probably heard; their moms still talked and the hometown gossip was pretty small.

The last time Oikawa Toru had contacted Iwaizumi Hajime was a few weeks ago, when he had asked about where the spiker was living and mentioned that he would be enrolling. Iwaizumi had suggested moving in with him since he had a spare room, and Oikawa’s entire situation was never brought up. That didn’t surprise Oikawa though, Iwaizumi wasn’t great with feelings, but he always showed up even if he didn’t know what to say. Oikawa hoped he was right, that he wasn’t reading it wrong because a year and a half changes a lot. He’d changed a lot.

Oikawa stood in front of the door to his own damn apartment, key held in mid air. He could do this. This was fucking stupid. He could do this. Inhale. Exhale. Before he could wimp out, Oikawa stuck his key into the lock and turned it to open the door. The apartment was nice, spacious, and full of light. Of course, it was clean. Others might not have assumed that the grumpy Iwa would be clean, but Oikawa knew better, he had always been the cleaner one. Oikawa cared for appearances that others would see, in his own house? Chaos. He had seen photos online but had never gotten the chance to see the place in person. Iwaizumi had said that it was a big apartment and that his old roommate had moved in with his girlfriend, hence the empty room.

Oikawa heard footsteps coming from the hallway to the left and his heart started racing. He was a grown ass man. This was so stupid to be scared of. He should’ve kept in touch; he didn’t want things to be weird after how close they’d been. Life was fucked and Oikawa missed his best friend. He’d been a bad friend this past year and it would be understandable if things were different, but he so desperately wanted them to be exactly the same.

The steps stopped and Oikawa turned his head to see Iwaizumi standing there. He looked like he had before and at the same time distinctly more mature. He had built more muscles, which Oikawa didn’t think was possible and was completely unfair given his circumstances. His features were more defined with sharper angles than Oikawa remembered. If he had grown an inch or two Oikawa didn’t want to know. He looked confident, sure of himself. Iwa. He didn’t look like a high schooler just figuring themselves out, he looked like an adult working towards their dream. He was one. And here Oikawa was, an adult who had just failed their dream, somehow more lost than he’d ever been in life.

Oikawa’s face crumpled and he let out a sad pathetic sort of whimper that would’ve embarrassed him if it was anyone else. His feet stumbled forward, and another pair moved to meet the other half way.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa wasn’t sure if the name was appropriate anymore, but it had been a lonely year and fuck he just wanted to rest.

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, the deep steady voice a sound he hadn’t heard in months. Oikawa choked out a wet laugh at the old nickname. Oikawa threw his arms around Iwa’s neck and reluctant arms wrapped around him in return.

At 6 years old Iwaizumi Hajime had begrudgingly brushed off his knees when a kid had pushed Oikawa off the slide in elementary school with a scowl on his face and here he still was 17 years later. Iwaizumi never showed affection often but Oikawa had always known that they were friends. Despite the sarcastic jokes, Iwaizumi was there for him, he always showed up. That was never in doubt. When push came to shove, Oikawa trusted Iwaizumi completely.

The phrase ‘leap of faith’ traces back to a Danish philosopher who used it to illustrate a crossroads where we have two options, hold on to reason or take a leap into faith and accept the existence of paradoxes in life. (The sentiment was mostly to make people believe in God and follow him while avoiding having to logically justify his arguments which makes the phrase less nice.) He would take a literal and figurative leap of faith no questions asked.

 Oikawa didn’t realize until he stood outside the apartment that Iwaizumi was who he needed to see this past year. Who he should’ve been telling everything to. It would’ve destroyed him if things weren’t the same. He had lost sight of it after high school, had lost sight of a lot and even now Iwaizumi was still here for Oikawa. Always picking up the pieces.

“I’m sorry Toru,” he said softly, Oikawa could hear that he meant it. Their friendship often consisted of jokes and competitions but if Iwaizumi had heard, he knew how much it had meant to Oikawa to lose. But Oikawa had grown too and didn’t want to be the person that complained about his shit after what he’d done.

“I’m sorry too,” Oikawa paused. This was new for them. They had always been best friends, joined at the hip, close no matter what. He had never been separated from Iwaizumi, they never had to experience actively staying in touch or growing apart. It had always just been them before. Nothing else had ever mattered, it was the most natural thing in the world. It was new, slightly awkward, and he hated that it felt more forced but letting it slip away wasn’t an option.

“I was a bad friend and got caught up in my own shit. I should’ve been in touch and should’ve done a lot of things, so I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi’s fist smacked down forcefully against Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Oikawa jumped back, rubbing his arm. He looked up aghast.

“It’s fine alright? Yeah, you made some mistakes so did I, let's just move past it. We’re used to each other fucking up by now.” Iwaizumi said, looking away slightly as his hand rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Oikawa knew he meant it, the emotionally constipated little porcupine that he was. Emotion clogged in Oikawa’s throat but he managed a tight smile and nodded.

“So I assume you’re going to recount every little detail of the past year whether I like it or not?” Iwaizumi asked as he slumped onto one of the couches. Oikawa plopped down on the opposite end and shifted to face Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan, do you really have to ask?” Oikawa said and grinned like himself for the first time in months. Iwaizumi groaned and threw a pillow at the brunette’s face in response.

 –

 It was surprisingly easy to slip back into their old dynamic. Oikawa was excited to be able to tell someone everything, and Iwaizumi was a patient listener, contributing some eyerolls or sarcastic comments but Oikawa could tell he was interested and paying attention. Ever the master of feint disinterest. When he got to the tail end of his story Oikawa started to fidget and wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about it, wasn’t sure if he could without breaking down entirely so Iwaizumi casually switched over to recount his year. The man of very few words talked about his program, classes, job, friends, everything to distract and ground his friend.

 Oikawa isn’t sure when he first noticed Iwaizumi doing this but it started when they were kids. When he would be upset or distressed, Iwaizumi would plop down next to him and start talking and talking. Oikawa had been stunned into silence initially as his reserved friend would ramble so much that it almost rivaled his own blabbering. When the shock wore off Oikawa’s eyes would light up in pure joy every time it happened. Eventually his awed reaction became less subdued as he grew up but there is still a small twinkle in adult Oikawa’s eyes as he looks at Iwaizumi and a tug on his heart when it happens.

[robotkiyoomi]

SakuAtsu | MSBY Injury fic, established relationship that’s a forced secret to the public 

Atsumu knew he could still get the ball overhand, he wasn’t going to allow himself to do a bump set. They needed this point or it was over. He wouldn’t – couldn’t let his team down. He finally caught up with the ball and bent backwards as much as he physically could to get beneath it. He was losing his balance but managed a falling set, arcing the ball over the court. He knew who would be there. Who was always there. 

Atsumu’s high was short lived when all thoughts left his head as he landed on the ground. Something was wrong. He knew something was. He had fallen probably as many times as he’d exhaled. Atsumu could hear the crowd roar, was that for them or the other team? But that noise felt like it was much further away than it truly was. Sudden blinding sharp pain shot up his body. Atsumu was so stunned that he couldn’t tell where the pain was coming from at first. However, one look down and he knew where the problem was. His vision was getting blurry from the pain but he knew his knee did not look right. Was it dislocated? Broken? Could that even happen? He cursed himself for not listening to Iwaizumi’s lesson on common sports injuries a couple months ago. But he had never once been severely injured playing volleyball so seeing how many grapes Bokuto could fit into his mouth without Iwaizumi noticing seemed like a more important thing. 

Atsumu felt his head drop back to the floor, the world was spinning too much to look at his knee anymore and it felt like he wasn’t experiencing the sensations of his own body. This was so pathetic. He had been training to take the team all the way to the finals, they hadn’t even made the qualifiers yet and he was injured by an insignificant play. One point of 25 in a set. He heard the whistle blow and some sort of talking, or maybe that was in his head. He felt like he was seriously tripping. Shit. Why did it hurt so much? Samu and him fought all the time and nothing had ever felt like this. Was Samu actually a weak fighter all along? He had dislocated his shoulder before and it felt nothing like this. That couldn’t be a great sign. Yet none of the signs happening currently seemed to be great so that didn’t mean much. 

All the noises were blending together but he had to get back to the court, he just needed some tape and water and he would be fine. 

Miya Atsumu’s guide to recovering from an injury that I definitely can identify, Iwaizumi, I am a serious professional athlete. 

He tried to sit up and move this leg and nearly blacked out from the pain. Nope, that’s not good.

“Love,” suddenly a figure was kneeling in front of him. It was a blur but he could recognize the voice anywhere. 

“Omi,” Atsumu said, trying to sit up again and reach for his knee. 

“Fuck Atsu. Stay down, okay? I’m right here.” Sakusa said, taking one of Atsumu’s hands in his own. More steps came towards him and he felt like a blind helpless animal sat on the ground with his vision going in and out. Sakusa moved so the paramedic could take a look at his knee but he kept holding onto his hand, rubbing small circles on the back with his thumb. Atsumu was so tired. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sakusa said, brushing the hair away from Atsumu’s face. He knew it wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Omi.” Atsumu said weakly. All pride had gone out the window as people crowded around him and the game paused for the interruption.  

“What are you apologizing for? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. Just focus on you right now.” Sakusa’s name was called and he turned to exchange a few words with what Atsumu assumed was the paramedic. 

“They’re gonna take you to the hospital now.” Sakusa said. Atsumu felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher. He gripped his boyfriend’s hand tighter. He couldn’t finish the game for him. 

“The game-” Atsumu said. His throat felt impossibly dry and had no clue if his words had made any noise. 

“Babe, the game is what matters the least. Take care of yourself. I’m just worried about you.” Sakusa said. He had started walking with the stretcher to stay by Atsumu’s side.

“Sakusa, you need to finish the game, I’m sorry.” Atsumu shifted his glance to see Coach Foster standing there. Atsumu felt Sakusa’s grip tighten on his hand. 

“I’m not leaving him alone. I’m sorry, but I honestly couldn't care less about the game when my boyfriend is hurt.” Sakusa said, gesturing to Atsumu. 

“I know, kid, but we have a lot riding on this game. This involves more than just us.” Coach Foster said. 

“Go, it’s okay.” Atsumu said, squeezing Sakusa’s hand. Sakusa looked down at Atsumu with tears welling in his eyes. 

“I’m not letting you go alone.” he said, shaking his head. Atsumu loved him so much it physically hurt. Volleyball was everything to his boyfriend but right now he meant more with no hesitation. 

“Go win, for me.” Atsumu said, and he could feel tears in his eyes. He wanted to be there to do that, but he couldn’t. Sakusa nodded slowly and bent down to kiss Atsumu gently. 

“One call and I will leave, okay? I’m going to give my phone to Iwaizumi and I’ll leave the ringer on. You need me and I will leave, I don’t give a shit about the consequences. I want you to call me if you need me. Do not feel bad because I want to.” Sakusa said, their foreheads pressed together. 

“What happened to not polarizing our sponsoring brands?” Sakusa chuckled softly. 

“I’m playing while you’re hurt, so I'm going to kiss my boyfriend in public and they can go fuck themselves if they think otherwise and have someone other than my boyfriend model their goddamn clothing.” Atsumu choked out a laugh and lifted his head to meet Sakusa for another quick kiss. A hand patted Sakusa's shoulder and he jumped a little. Atsumu was about to fuck his injury and punch whoever got into his boyfriend’s space, without his consent, into the next galaxy but Sakusa just nodded at the paramedic before turning back to Atsumu. 

“I love you so much and will be there as soon as I can.” Atsumu nodded as Sakusa kissed his cheek. 

“I love you more. Go kick some ass Omi.”

[dewybyul]

university student kiyoomi

[drawnbymabel]

[robotkiyoomi]

Oikawa takes avoiding his problems to the next level and Maki meddling crack ensues

IwaOi time skip a/b/o

“Hey Hajimee,” Maki said, tapping out an annoying pattern on his open office door. Hajime looked up to glare at the pink haired male who had a sheepish too wide smile on his face. 

“What,” He deadpanned. Hajime had never seen his friend nervous ever, he was in a constant state of sarcastically chill, but right now his hands swung back and forth awkwardly. 

“We’ve been friends for a long time, like a long time and I just would like you to know that I would never kill you. Ever.” Hajime ran a hand up to his face, he wasn’t sure that deserved a response. 

“What the hell do you want? I don’t have time for this shit today,” He said. Maki smiled, a genuine smile this time. 

“Well that’s great because I think you should really keep that in mind as well as my friendship over the many years. It was not me, it was him,” 

Uh oh, because Hajime has a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knows who the ‘him’ is. Has had decades of experience dealing with the many things that normally follow sentences like that. 

“Shit, I have to take a call. I’ll be back in one moment,” Maki said as he stepped out of the office. To Hajime’s credit he’s had a long week and honestly believed the man would be beyond it, but he starts to doubt this as he senses the steps getting too far for just a casual phone call. He gets up to peek out of his office and curses as Maki’s figure sprints for the exit. Of, fucking, course he noticed the exact moment Hajime had picked up who he was talking about. 

—

Hajime glares at Maki who had managed to make it to his car safely and then promptly had locked himself in for temporary protection. 

“Hajime, man. We can talk this out. I can’t tell you anything if you kill me and trust me, currently I’m risking being killed by your other half for this,” Maki said, his voice slightly muffled through the thick glass. This makes Hajime pause. Maki didn’t get significantly involved in things intentionally. Normally he was caught up in the crossfires and just wouldn’t stop the chaos but active involvement was odd. 

“Dude, please. I can’t die and also my plan has a time restriction so if you fuck me over when I was trying to help, then you’ll get a fate worse than death. Not to mention, you’ll have to live with knowing you killed your best friend.” 

“Toru’s my best friend,” Hajime responded, frowning. Maki closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Words can hurt Iwa-chan.” Hajime cringed at the nickname coming from Maki’s voice. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” He said, shrugging indifferently. 

“Okay well, I sedated Oikawa and locked him in your apartment. It’s a safe dose, don’t worry I consulted Mattsun,” Maki said, sticking his keys into the ignition. 

“But Mattsun works with the dead,” Hajime responded, the sentence not quite setting in yet. 

“I’d give you 11-18 minutes until he gets up and runs for it, good luck!” Maki said before he pulled out of the parking spot.

[robotkiyoomi]

SakuAtsu time skip | invisible red string of fate concept | Enemies to lovers crack ?

“YOU FUCKING EGOTISTICAL ASS,” Kiyoomi says, yanking on his side of the string. Atsumu stumbles to stay up right, staring daggers at the other.

“Maybe I’ll just strangle ya with the thread myself and make it nice and poetic” Atsumu snarls, trying to catch his breath.

“I’d fucking send you a thank you card and some flowers if you did. I’d strangle myself with it if I could see the damn thing.”

“Do you think God or the fates or whatever ever envisioned anyone would use the strings like this?” Hinata asks, watching Atsumu and Sakusa pulling aggressively at the string in different directions trying to whip the other around or make them fall.

“I don’t know, but this if fucking gold.” Inuaki says, shoving more chips into his mouth with the free hand that isn't recording.

“Oh my god,” Meian groans, running a hand down his face.

“SAKUSA PUT HIM DOWN” Meian yells when he sees the spiker gripping the string while spinning with more momentum to launch Atsumu like the metal ball in the olympic hammer throw.

[robotkiyoomi]

Doomsday ft the MSBY 4

If Miya Atsumu had to describe what his worst nightmare was it probably wouldn’t be far from what he was currently experiencing. Yup he was totally, completely, and utterly fucked. He could already picture his parents disowning him while Osamu would document it all, Coach Foster as he paced back and forth while lecturing Atsumu for hours on how to do the right thing, his friends would never let him live this this down, and all of that was somehow secondary to the phone call he’d just made. Even he wasn’t creative enough to imagine this hellscape. Atsumu had considered his options carefully and tried to find another way but upon coming up empty he had dialed the number. 

“What.” A deep stern and very angry voice barked out. He cringed and forced a smile into his voice. 

“Hey Omiii,” Atsumu said, drawing out the “i” as he attempted to avoid breaching the topic of the phone call. 

“What the hell do you want, Miya? It’s fucking 2:22am.” He winced at Sakusa’s tone. Atsumu had never been religious but he did send a silent prayer before calling asking for the spiker to be in a good and forgiving mood. Alas no, he was right not to be religious. 

“So Sho-kun,Bokkun,and I kinda got arrested and we need you to bail us out of jail,” Atsumu said hurriedly, better to just rip off the band-aid right? Wrong. 

“WHAT.” Sakusa screamed. 

That had happened about an hour ago. Atsumu groaned and buried his face in his hands. They truly had no other options and together they had seriously tried to think of any possible alternative. 

“He’s not going to come is he?” Bokuto asked dramatically as he lay face down on the metal bench in the holding cell. 

“Of course Omi-kun will come, he has to.” Hinata said, rubbing at his drooping eyes. 

“We can’t die in a foreign country’s prison when we have home games soon,” Atsumu internally winced at the innocence of his friends. He loved volleyball as much as them but that was the least of their concerns at the moment. 

The door clicked open, metal scraping against the cement floor as it opened, the sound extremely unpleasant for Atsumu’s already throbbing head. The three of boys jerked into proper sitting positions. The officer who had arrested them was heading towards the cell with Sakusa in tow. 

At that moment, as Hinata and Bokuto scrambled to their feet, Atsumu wasn’t sure if this was a sign of god’s existence or the start of a future crueler than he could’ve ever imagined. 

–

The car ride was painfully silent. Bokuto kept nervously clearing his throat which just drew more attention to the quiet and Atsumu was ready to die. Maybe they should’ve left him in that cell to rot because that might have been a kinder fate. Clearly he had not scolded Hinata and Bokuto to be quiet, in the event that Sakusa did come, well enough because Hinata decided to speak then, 

“Sakusa-san, aren’t you going to ask us any questions?” 

Atsumu smacked his head against the car window and he could see the cocky idiot smirk. 

“Hinata, it’s okay. I actually don’t have any questions,” Atsumu could feel the blow coming, he knew something bad was going to happen. 

“The officer showed me the footage and explained it all to me.” There it was. 

The MSBY members were currently in Brazil for some informal practice matches with other FIVB teams. Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata had been the only members that wanted to go out on their last night. Atsumu remembers heading out around 10:30 to find the first bar, which was just down the road from the hotel. The three of them together without supervision were a dangerous enough combination alone, the drinking games that led to a cycle of drinks downed one after another should’ve been the flashing red flag. From there things were a little less clear but Atsumu could unfortunately still see the incident vividly in his mind. Hearing Sakusa recount the event out loud is even worse than Atsumu had anticipated. 

“Of course you guys would bring a volleyball to a bar, it makes perfect sense. Meian has to hold onto all of your passports and IDs because you are all distractible children, but god forbid one of you doesn’t have a volleyball on them at all times.” Hinata and Bokuto clearly miss the depth of Sakusa dig and Atsumu sinks further into the passenger seat because he too is included in the patronizing talk. Atsumu is used to being scoffed at by Sakusa or even lectured by their coach and captain for his behavior on a night out but it has never been categorized to be similar to Bokuto’s childish or naive actions. ‘Miya Atsumu, young volleyball heart throb and potential playboy’ as the articles say. Yet here he was.

“So just to make sure that I understood everything correctly, in a busy club, Hinata tried to set the ball to Bokuto. ‘Try’ being the key word here because from the footage and for your own careers, I have to assume everyone was very intoxicated because the playing skills displayed were..” Sakusa makes a disgusted face and shudders. 

“Anyways, Bokuto, in an attempt to receive the ball, ran at full speed after it. Of course why would you have any spatial awareness of the many other people in the club and look where you’re going? So Bokuto then slammed into Miya, who was sitting at the bar flirting with a girl and had almost just spilled his entire drink on her. Miya, eternally easy to provoke and with an extremely fragile ego then shoved Bokuto in retaliation, this caused Bokuto to fall over and as he fell he accidentally pantsed a woman. In a hilarious moment of cosmic justice, Miya, who had his feet tucked into the bar stool, then tipped over from the momentum of the push and fell, the stool included, face first onto the floor.” Sakusa is barely suppressing his smirk and Atsumu wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Sakusa continues, because yes it would have been extremely embarrassing but Atsumu would have gotten over things if just that had happened.

“The ball then proceeded to hit the bartender in the head and ricochet into the liquor cabinet smashing 217,000 Yen worth of alcohol. Shards of glass flying everywhere on the slip and slide floor of alcohol. Yet amongst the pandemonium, someone did manage to record the tail end of the whole fiasco, which was uploaded to TikTok. Did I miss anything?” Sakusa stated matter of factly. 

“I pantsed someone?” Bokuto asked, leaning up into the front. This was too much. Atsumu groaned and shoved Bokuto back to his seat. 

“Keiji is going to kill me,” he muttered. Everyone was going to kill them. 

“Someone recorded it?” Hinata said, the horror plain on his face. The PR team was going to bring them back from the dead just to kill them again. Atsumu has to blink twice to make sure he is seeing things correctly. Sakusa is giving Hinata a small comforting smile through the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t worry, the good news is that no one had any idea it was professional volleyball players let alone you guys and it is too dark to tell. I checked out the footage and have sent things forward to get ‘drunk idiots try to play volleyball and flop harder than my grades’ taken down” Hinata sags in relief a little. Atsumu grimaces at the unfortunately true caption. 

Atsumu didn’t want to ask but he had to. 

“How did you convince them to let us go? Are we in any legal trouble?” The look of pure glee in Sakusa’s face would haunt him for the rest of his life. Oh so Shoyo-kun gets kindness and I get the stupid amusement, that’s fair.

“I simply explained to them that we are professional athletes and that you three are just idiots that have the impulse control of a toddler. That there was no harm intended and the whole incident was simply a mistake due to your inability to utilize rational thinking. I used the analogy of a dog with a high prey drive who sees a squirrel and just can’t help but chase it like an idiot. You will however have to pay for the alcohol and I have a feeling PR is going to make you write an apology to the injured parties.” 

[robotkiyoomi]

SakuAtsu meet cute but replace cute with embarrassing

SakuAtsu | college Omi x Pro athletes Atsumu

Atsumu glanced up from his phone at the sound of a throat clearing. This had been happening to him more often over the past few months since joining the MSBY Black Jackals and despite Suna and his brother’s laughing, he had thought the hat had been a pretty good cover to fly under the radar. Okay, a last minute hat and glasses he’d been wanting to see if he could pull off as a fashion choice perched on his nose was a pretty shitty disguise. Atsumu knew his friends teased him for being a cocky dick but he could admit that he liked fans approaching him. Sue him for loving the new spotlight a little.

“Uh, excuse me.” Atsumu had been approached by fans of all ages, volleyball was a wide reaching sport which was one of the things he loved. Many of the people he met in public tended to be either children or mainly women (occasionally men) his age who would take the opportunity to flirt. If Atsumu had to guess, neither of the two types of people stood before him.

“Hi, so I appreciate yer a fan and always love meetin’ my supporters but I’m kinda here for a family visit, hence the disguise” Atsumu said as he gestured to his hat and glasses. The taller boy with black curly hair simply tilted his head at Atsumu as if he did not understand.

“So as much as I would love to take photos and chat, it would be really great if I could have this personal time and rain check during a public event.” Atsumu hated letting down fans and smiled to show his sincerity.

It was difficult for Atsumu to decipher the exact expression of the other boy due to a mask covering the lower half of his face but his dark eye brows were furrowed. Atsumu had no clue what was so difficult for this fan to understand and was starting to get irritated being looked at like he was the insane one.

“I’m sorry, no photos.” He clarified bluntly.

“Uh, okay cool.” The other said slowly, tone still unsure. He had a deep voice and was surprisingly taller than Atsumu with a comparative muscle build. If he had to guess, they were probably around similar age ranges.

“I was just going to ask if you would mind moving so I could get into my house,” The stranger continued, pointing to the doorframe Atsumu had been leaning on.

House. Move. Fan. Not fan. Fuck.

“Yeah, I can do that for ya.” Atsumu followed up articulately as he stepped aside from the door.

“Thanks,” The other said hesitantly, the words sounding half like a question.

“You're welcome.” Atsumu said. He heard the boy step past, unlock the door, open, and then finally close the door.

“OMG what is wrong with you,” Atsumu silently screamed to himself as soon as the coast was clear.

“You’re welcome?!”

If Atsumu had to list the top 5 most embarrassing outcomes from waiting for Samu and Suna outside Suna’s new house, this would probably be in the top 3 easily. He had just mistaken one of Suna’s roommates, for a dumb fan. Not only that, but he was still waiting outside of Suna’s fucking house, meaning he would have to meet said roommate today and the acknowledge what just happened.