Miya Osamu, who you recently received a wake-up call for how comfortable you've gotten with him recently, regardless of your feelings.
Miya Osamu, who even though you know he's not at fault, you can't help but feel a little bit annoyed at him.
‘Is that how he usually acts?’
‘Grinning and getting chummy with any pretty girl that wants his attention?’
It's ridiculous, you know, feeling jealous over a guy that's not yours. Who doesn't even have an idea that you have feelings for him and probably just sees you as a normal friend.
Miya Osamu, who notices you're absent-minded while sitting on one of the side benches in the gym. Completely oblivious to the ball flying off the block from a spike Aran just made.
Miya Osamu, who quickly intercepts the ball, already on that side of the court. The ball bounces off his hands and rolls across the ground for a player to pick up later. The sound of it hitting his arm finally draws your attention, making you look up to face him while the others slowly stop the practice game and come over to check up on you.
Miya Osamu, who ignores his racing heart and throbbing left arm from where he deflected the ball and turns around to face you. His imminent worry is etched on his face, his grey eyes narrowing down into an annoyed glare.
Miya Osamu, whom you expect to berate you about sitting so absent-mindedly while a game is going on, knowing how often injuries can happen if one isn't careful.
Miya Osamu, who rakes his eyes over your form. Checking your arms, forehead, and legs for any marks before bringing his eyes back to your untouched face.
Miya Osamu, who watches you slowly shake your head, relief washing over him at your answer, despite already knowing it since he deflected the ball himself.
Miya Osamu, who didn't expect you to return the question, your eyes shifting to his arm.
Miya Osamu, who proudly shakes his hand, grateful for the opportunity to show off how impressive he is. He softly clears his throat, subtly averting his gaze to answer.
“No. ‘Is nothing. Didn't hurt at all.”
The Inarizaki team, who watches the whole interaction quietly from the sidelines. Waiting for the opportunity to interrupt, inquire, and apologize themselves. At the same time, wondering when you two will start dating already. Even Kita Shinsuke is no longer blind to the gossip his team has fun with during breaks.
Miya Osamu, who is finally slowly getting confident in his feelings for you. Confident enough to even listen to Sumu’s advice on how to charm a girl you like. Although he thinks most of it is stupid and lets Atsumu know, he still writes them down in his notebook.
‘Walk on the ‘right’ side of the road where you can be a body block for any incoming vehicles.’
‘Offer to carry her books and any heavy things for her.’
‘Always sit close to her in class and exchange notes regularly.’
But we're not in the same class though…
‘Befriend her friends. Make sure they like you.’
I don't like them though, especially that Yumeko girl. She's so close to Y/n—too close. Last time she was even feeding her, with her hands! How rude. Who does she think she is?!
‘If her friends don't like you, they're likely to influence her affection for you as well.’
Well I guess, it was nice of her to share the chocolates… but who even cares about chocolates? I could make them and feed her myself. I mean, that day she was already having an upset stomach.
‘Regularly tell her how pretty she is.’
… All I've done so far is tell her she eats like a pig and that she doesn't have good eyes because she thinks everyone is cute… I want to tell her she's pretty. Really pretty. Maybe one day I'll work up the courage to.
‘Show off your muscles??’
‘Wear something sexy while cooking on a video call—or better still, don't wear a shirt at all…’
Sumu that idiot, has any of this even worked for him?!! What does he even know. The stealing blockhead.
Miya Osamu, who still reads through the tips at night before bed and practices them mentally before shutting it to quietly insult his brother some more.
Miya Osamu, who finally decides to give you a genuine compliment on your date this Saturday.
Miya Osamu, who frequently has to remind himself that it's not a date. He simply asked you to accompany him to check out a new restaurant and you agreed. Despite his dream of successfully giving you that compliment already putting him in a great mood when he woke up that morning, and despite his brother fussing about his tastes while helping him pick what to wear—it's not a date. Maybe… just maybe it's too soon for that.
Miya Osamu, who gets there way earlier than he planned and decides to walk around while waiting for you, unable to stop himself from buying some Taiyaki while he does. He couldn't help it. He skipped breakfast and was a little bit anxious.
Miya Osamu, who finds himself going through the photos Suna shared in their group chat. Reacting with a thumbs down on the ones of his and his brother’s fights, and smiling at the ones that have you somewhere in the background. Chatting with the coach, checking out a volleyball, or just sitting with a snack.
Miya Osamu, who pauses on a video of him biting Sumu's ear to see you in the background talking with Aran while holding a volleyball in hand, nodding at something Aran is saying before tossing the ball, catching it, and responding excitedly to him.
Miya Osamu, who quietly watches the video more times—just that part, though.
'Hmm… is she interested in volleyball? Maybe I could teach her. Ah… but she was hopeless in learning onigiri, though. Would she pick it up? I guess if it's just for fun then it doesn't matter, but can I be a good teacher? Would Sumu be better? She did say setters are cool, ah but then again she said the same thing about liberos too.'
Miya Osamu, who checks his phone for the last message before it suddenly strikes him while you're running late.
You mentioned yesterday that Yumeko—the girl he's trying not to actively dislike but seems bent on making that hard for him—invited you to a mixer which was today, Saturday. You said you turned her down and that you weren't going since you already had a date—he means plans with him today, but… maybe you changed your mind?
Miya Osamu, who's decidedly not a fan of the uncomfortable feeling flooding his chest nor the barrage of thoughts that follow. Both getting worse with each passing second.
Miya Osamu, who checks the time one more time after glancing at the last message he sent to you.
“I'm here. Just waiting.”
Over one hour has passed from your agreed time of 11:00 AM, and he arrived by 9:48 AM.
It is currently 12 on the dot.
Miya Osamu, who quietly sends another message.
“You're still coming right? Did you get caught up in traffic?”
Miya Osamu, who switches to the phone app, his thumb hesitantly hovering over his brother's saved name before he stops.
‘What’s the point in calling Sumu. He's probably going to say something stupid.’
‘Where is Y/n? It's already 2:05.’
‘She didn't change her mind and go to the mixer, right?’
‘I mean it's possible… her friends are going after all. She might not want to let them down. She might also consider that to be more fun than hanging out with me.’
‘I’m so stupid, listening to what Sumu said about the probability of me having a chance.’
‘Is she at the mixer right now? Is she having fun without me?’
‘Am I just a pain in the ass to her?’
‘Yeah. They said girls prefer more mature guys, right? The mixer probably has mature, cute-looking guys that are better than me.’
Miya Osamu, whose anxiety gets so bad he starts going through his recent memories in his head. Now that he thinks about it, you've been acting a little bit distant with him. The wallpaper is still on your phone and you still have lunch with him, but… you aren't letting him feed you anymore. And even when chatting with him, there's been less teasing—or calling him cute—with most of the chat focused on the drama in the team. And you haven't asked him for a picture in a while, either.
Miya Osamu, who glances down at his phone, his wallpaper the picture of you eating the onigiri he made, which he's had for weeks now. He slowly murmurs the time to himself while staring at your stuffed cheeks in the picture, poking it with his thumb.
Your cheeks in the picture don't move a bit. They are probably moving right now over food, drinks, and shared laughter at a mixer somewhere.
Miya Osamu, who taps the power button to close the screen after making another call to you that doesn't get answered. His battery is already running low.
“I'll wait. Just a little bit more.”
He mumbles to himself, lowering his head and ignoring the loud rumble of his stomach. He couldn't close his eyes; images of you somewhere at a mixer just keep flashing through his mind.
Maybe this is why Sumu said to be close to your friends. He could have called Yumeko or texted her since you weren't answering your calls and texts. But… does he even have the right? What if that just makes him even less tolerable?
Miya Osamu, who weakly takes his head up after his eyes catch sight of the mistied shoelaces of a pair of white sneakers that suddenly stop in front of him from where he is squatting alone against the wall of an alley.
You stare down at him, your chest heaving from heavy breathing while sweat runs down your forehead and your neck, soaking the round collar of your shirt. Your phone is in your hand, the screen dark from a dead battery.
Miya Osamu, who quietly stares up at you, taking in your appearance while you quickly explain yourself.
‘She’s sweating and out of breath. She must have been running. Her clothes are a bit rumpled and you didn't even tie your shoelaces properly again… you never do. You could have seriously tripped and gotten hurt, even now… you still look so pretty.’
“I'm so sorry Samu. I'm really late and I'm really sorry. I didn't forget, I just… ahhh this is so embarrassing, but I was in charge of making dinner last night and what I prepared… it ughh… gave everyone diarrhea this morning. I didn't mean to! You were right. I'm seriously trash at cooking… I tried to follow the recipe though. I mean, I've seen you do it multiple times and I wanted to try because it's always good when you make it. So the whole house had diarrhea this morning, including me. It took hours to take care of and for the medicine to kick in. Even worse, my phone died during the night and I couldn't reach you. I thought you'd have left but I still had to check here first. I'm way too late aren't I? I'm really sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I can't have any right now, but I can get you some onigiri or anything else you want.”
‘Diarrhea? Haa… seriously, I've told her before that she has absolutely no talent for cooking, but I guess… I was wrong about her going to the mixer instead. That's a relief.’
Miya Osamu, whom you stare down at anxiously. He has taken his head back down and seems to be thinking about something. Your heart is beating uncomfortably fast against your chest. You just ran around the whole place looking for a specific grey-haired head. He wasn't at the restaurant you two agreed to meet up at, but a server there mentioned he came by. You weren't even sure if he'd still be here; you just came here the moment you recovered. Not exactly in tiptop health, and not exactly early either. Your phone is still off, so you can't really tell the time. You haven't really been able to keep track of time all day.
You anxiously call his name, squatting down as well to meet his gaze—or rather, just his forehead, since he still has his head lowered.
Miya Osamu, who genuinely shakes his head at the question.
No, he isn't angry at you. At least, not for coming this late, though maybe for something else. I mean, it's not like you could help it that anything you cook either ends up poisonous or unrecognizable. Though you could probably just quit cooking in general to avoid such damages.
Miya Osamu, who listens to your heavy sigh of relief at his nonverbal answer. His eyes watch your knees leave his sight as you stand back up to your feet.
“Still, let me make it up to you. I think we can still have a late lunch at the restaurant. Ah… you've probably eaten though. So maybe just some snacks?”
‘No. I haven't eaten. I was too busy waiting for you. Too busy feeling anxious and thinking about everything else. What a pain. It's annoying. Even now… even now I still feel anxious despite you being here.’
Miya Osamu, whose hand suddenly reaches out to grab your right wrist, stopping you from leaving as you turn around, audibly talking about what snacks to get. His grip is tighter than he is aware of, but he is focused on something else.
His eyes flicker up to meet yours as you turn your head back down toward him from where he's still squatting on the floor.
“You…” he pauses, silently reviewing his words in his head to resolve your obvious anxiety and guilt about being late.
He tightly presses his lips together before opening them again.
“Do you still think I'm the cutest?”
Miya Osamu, who stares up at your surprised and confused face, with a little bit of surprise etched onto his own.
‘That… wasn't what I wanted to ask!’
You tilt your head slightly.
“Still think you're the cutest?”
You pause to remember the morning you walked to school together, when you were talking about how the team's captain was kinda cute, to which he questioned your eyesight and fumed until you let him know that you thought he was the cutest. The whole memory is so endearing that it immediately brings a smile to your face as you stare down at him.
“Of course I do, Samu. I still think you're cute.”
Miya Osamu, who ignores the beat his heart skips at your sentence, forcing himself up to his feet to look at you. The height difference between you two instantly switches your previous gazes.
“Then why… haven't you called me cute recently? You… you even called Sumu cute! When he tried to hide that picture of him Suna was about to show you on Tuesday, you laughed and said it's cute. But I… I don't even get anything! It's not fair. You said I was the cutest but now you… You even make food that gives everyone diarrhea and make me wait all this time! Y/n, you're so stupid and frustrating, why don't you tell me I'm cute any—”
Miya Osamu, who stares down at your face, suddenly impossibly close to his. Your eyes are blatantly staring into his while your lips cut off the rest of the words from his mouth. They are as soft and as warm as he had imagined—much bolder, too. Parting his lips open to slowly suck on them twice before pulling away, leaving your face an inch away from his while he stares, unaware that he isn't breathing properly.
Miya Osamu, whose breathing becomes even more improper the moment the next words leave your lips, accompanied by a bittersweet smile. The same lips that just kissed him so suddenly.
“Because I like you, Samu.”
You repeat it in case he didn't hear the first time. Though he caught it. His ears certainly did, with how red they are currently burning. The heat spreads across his entire face as your confession doesn't end there.
“It’s stupid, but I got jealous. But getting that jealous of someone you're not even in a relationship with... it's not really healthy, nor something you'd appreciate, so I…”
You avert your gaze to the ground, unable to complete the rest of your sentence, though you don't need to.
Miya Osamu, whose eyes widen in surprise at the words that unexpectedly fell from his lips. Aching to be let out, they finally did, drawing your eyes right back to his face.
He suddenly feels his chest constrict with pressure while his face floods with unbearable heat. His hand leaves your wrist to slide down, interlocking his fingers with yours while a sudden hiccup escapes his chest.
Weren't you going to answer? Did you not hear what he said? He has to take advantage of this opportunity that was suddenly presented to him. He has to let you know. Right here. Right now. Even if he can't look at your face at all. As long as you can hear him, then that's good enough.
“Hic—I… said I like you too.”
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