finding out you debuted ★ aran, kita, atsumu, osamu, suna
synopsis. inarizaki men’s volleyball team and the different ways they find out you debuted in a kpop group or as a soloist.
context. y/n pulls a “mark lee” and disappears to train under a south korean company to debut as a soloist or in a group. y/n leaves without saying a word to anyone outside of her family leaving them confused, and concerned. until one random morning, afternoon or night, they find out the real reason — y/n debuted.
features. f!reader, idol!reader, slight angst, mainly fluff, ojiro aran, kita shinsuke, atsumu miya, osamu miya & suna rintarou, timeskip of — a year or two after graduating high school, mentions of hinata shoyo, bokuto koutarou, komori motoya, and sakusa kiyoomi.
author's note. hiya! i listened to the kdh’s soundtrack while writing this! also if you see any mistakes, blame my sisters’, they’re my proof readers <3 also, atsumu’s is inspired by a momo edit, i’m obsessed with !
series. karasuno 1st years ❪ part one ❫, oya oya oya squad ❪ part two ❫, itachiyama ❪ part three ❫, seijoh four ❪ part five ❫.
ojiro aran, 尾白 アラン .
Aran never strayed far from you, he lingered around always watching over you.
It was never out of petty — he's the one person who never looked at you with sad eyes. The time the two of you had met during your first year at Inarizaki High, he'd met you at your lowest. Your dream of becoming an idol seemed so far out of reach, everyone around you insisted it was impossible.
“You should give it up”, It hurt hearing those words come out of the mouths of your loved ones.
He remembers the day he found you under the school bleachers, knees pressed close to your chest with your head tucked in between your knees. You were no longer faking a smile, and Aran wasn't sure what broke his heart more.
Seeing the way your smile failed to reach your eyes, or hearing the quiet sobs as you tried not to attract unwanted attention.
You hadn't noticed his presence yet part of you felt him before you'd seen him. “Aran, they're right, aren't they?” Your teary eyes were drained of any hope, the words everyone said seem to cut through.
Aran stepped closer kneeling down to your height, his own eyes filled with fire and determination. His slender fingers reaching over to gently brush the tears off your cheek, “Prove them wrong.”
Those events took place nearly 5 years ago.
The last time anyone heard a word from you or seen you was the day of graduation which took place three years ago. Aran isn't sure where you went, though he firmly believed you were doing your best to fulfill your dreams. He didn't except to wake up one random morning to a message from his former volleyball teammate — Miya Atsumu.
fake blonde: i think she's talkin' about you.
He'd followed his message up with a link and Aran wondered if Atsumu was smart enough to hack his phone, he isn't.
The link took him to a YouTube video of a girl group being interviewed on an American talk show. One of the five members being you. He couldn't hold back the tears that'd begun welling up in his eyes, using his little knowledge of English, he'd understood the interview requested for each one of you and your members to say what you wanted to say.
Once the microphone was handed over to you, you smiled directly into the camera. Your eyes shining brightly, smile finally reaching your eyes.
You spoke in Japanese and for a few seconds it felt like you were right in front of him, “I never got the chance to say thank you for believing in me when no one else did. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be standing on this stage performing with my members. Thank you.”
Aran couldn't hold the tears back any longer, allowing them to slide down his cheeks. He couldn't be prouder.
kita shinsuke, 北 信介 .
He remembers the last night the two of you spent together, it was the day after the two of you graduated.
You insisted on walking him home, stating that he'd done it several times over the years you grew up together and you wanted at least one day to repay him back. Kita rejected the suggestion, stating it was unnecessary since he enjoyed being the one to walk you home, but you smiled and he gave in.
You walked on the left side of him, furthest from the edge of the curb, and nearest to his heart. You're smiling, eyes beaming up at the bright stars in the night sky.
Kita can't bring himself to look away from your face, his eyes taking in all the little features he's come to adore.
You're talking, well it's more like an excited rant and he lets you, hanging onto every word you say. “I know I can do it.”
He knows you can do it too.
He sees that same look of determination in your eyes, that Atsumu has every time he steps onto the court. Only with you, it's every time you step onto the stage. Kita knows you're born for a life much larger and brighter than him.
He remembers the way your hands felt in his, and the way your face dropped as the two of you arrived in front of his house. And, Kita remembers the way you held onto him that night, tighter than normal.
You didn't need to say you were leaving, you said it in your actions.
“Please don't forget me.” Oh, how could he forget about you?
Two years later, he's sitting at a table at some restaurant/bar surrounded by his former high school teammates.
Every year all of the members from Inarizaki's volleyball team get together to catch up on each other's life. And most times, it ends with the boys wondering where you'd gone off too.
Today his former teammates aren't given a second to wonder about your whereabouts.
One of the television nearest to them begins showcasing a performance from a newly debuted girl group. Aran is the first to notice your familiar face nudging Kita's side. He points at the screen with a speechless expression, it gains the attention of everyone at the table.
Kita stares at the screen attentively, left brow slightly arched in confusion. His facial expressions morph into the same shocked look as the others before breaking out into a wide grin. You’re performing on the stage with the most contagious smile on your face, your moves are in synchronized with your members.
As, the camera pans closer to your face, it gives him a few seconds to admire the features on your face he'd fallen head over heels for.
Aran is patting Kita's back, throwing his head back in amusement as some of their friends break out into cheers and others begin recording like proud fathers. His phone that's placed on the table in front of him vibrates signaling he's received a text, and his hand reaches out to see a message belonging to you.
name: thank you for cheering me on!
miya atsumu, 宮 侑 .
The fake blonde is lying on his bed.
The door of his bedroom left wide open by his teammate/roommate — Shoyo Hinata, who'd forgotten to close the door after confirming his order. Atsumu is far too lazy to get up and close the door, he'd spent most of the morning at practice and insisted on going to the gym despite the grueling volleyball practices they were facing.
Now, he wanted nothing more than to close his brown eyes and fall into a deep slumber but he couldn't. If he fell asleep now, the takeout they'd ordered would be devoured by the rest of his roommates.
So, Atsumu laid on his bed, back pressed against his headboard and legs spread out onto the mattress.
His hair slightly wet from the cold shower he'd taken a few minutes ago. His phone in his hand as he uses his thumb to mindlessly scrolls through TikTok, at times getting distracted by the short parts of a movie playing.
He's watched way too many movies on the app, probably more than he's ever seen on a big screen.
“Tsumu, we're going out to get some drinks.” Hinata shouts from somewhere in the living room.
“GET THE DOOR WHEN IT RINGS!" Bokuto adds in, voice practically booming through out their shared apartment.
Atsumu nods his head, frowning when he realizing they can't see, “Yeah, yeah! I know!”
He wonders if Sakusa silently followed after their roommates, or if he's hiding in his bedroom to keep from having to open the door for the delivery guy.
Hearing the front door close, Atsumu's attention snaps back to the video playing on his phone. The video playing isn't entertaining, not one bit but it's keeping him awake so he continues to watch up until another voice pops up in the background of the video.
He rolls his droopy eyes in irritation deciding to skip past and move onto the next video below it. Atsumu sits up straight, pale pink lips parted as he comes across an edit, of who?
You.
His classmate who rejected him repeatedly over the course of high school. No matter how many times you rejected him, Atsumu was persistent insisting you felt the same way he felt for you and you admitted his feelings weren't unrequited.
But, you both chose careers that would lead to hundreds of eyes on you, waiting to expose you for their own personal gain.
You weren’t welling to risk your dream, or his.
He can't seem to tear his eyes away from the screen, the music playing over the video is a song from Pierce The Veil called, So Far So Fake.
The edit is a few clips from a performance, your movements are synchronized with the dancers around you. The way you're dancing is addictive and Atsumu can't help watch the clip a few times before sitting in silence.
The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk, eyes practically beaming with stars as he recalls the words you'd last said to him on the day of both of your graduation's.
“The day we’ve successfully made our dreams come true, I'll consider going on a date with you.”
You stood across from him in your school uniform, eyeing the three boys who stood off in the distance pretending they weren't trying to listen to the conversation going on between the two of you.
“You promise?” He stared in your direction with a look of uncertainty, his hand lifting up in front of you to showcase his pink.
A habit of yours he picked up on.
You give him a toothy grin clearly amused with his actions, and without hesitation you wrap your pinky around his kissing the top to seal the deal.
The tips of his ears beginning to turn pink along with his cheeks.
Atsumu wonders if you happen to have the same number, and if you’d agree to go on a date if he asked you again?
miya osamu, 宮 治 .
It's one of the largest orders he's received since the opening of Onigiri Miya.
Miya Osamu ended up hiring extra help since it'd taken him two days to prepare and gather all the ingredients and an extra day to cook everything to perfection. He'd almost declined the opportunity insisting it was some jerk trying to screw with him.
He'd accused the two biggest jerks he knew — Miya Atsumu (his twin) and Suna Rintarou, both insisted they had nothing to do with the order.
“We aren't that horrible.”
Osamu rolled his eyes at his twins' words, but he wondered how such a large company heard about his small business.
Sure, his hometown supported him to great lengths and the popularity of his brother, and his teammates who often came around helped attract the attention of new customers across Japan. He couldn't believe a music label heard about his business from his customers, and asked for his business to cater to their staff and artists.
Atsumu insisted on coming, and Osamu declined knowing his twin wanted an exclusive first look at the music video and artists that were filming near their hometown.
He'd arrived to the set early, around 5 am to set up the food in the section they'd chosen.
People were running around, all of them busy with tasks and he was grateful to see the manager who'd confirmed the order waiting outside with a warm smile and friendly greeting.
The two of them walked alongside each other, the manager insisting on helping with the load of trays. Osamu listened to the man ramble about the music video, half listening and half not, too focused on the multiple things going around him at once.
“Y/n loves your food, she says it reminds her of home.” Osamu's neck damn near snapped at the mention of your name, he stared at the man with uncertainty, wondering if he was playing some joke on him.
His head glances around the area frantically, clearly searching for Suna and Atsumu to pop out from their hiding spot.
“Y/n?”
The man nodded his head, a grin on his lips, clearly amused by Osamu’s starstruck expression. "The leader and main vocalist of [girl group].”
He's speechless, you were somewhere around here filming a music video.
“Since you opened last year anytime they have an event in Japan, she insists on ordering your food specifically.” Not only were you in the same area as he is, but you'd been the one to recommend his business.
Your manager seems to notice Osamu's star struck expression but, he doesn't comment on it. “If you want, I can get her over here. I'm sure she'd be more than glad to meet the owner of Onigiri Miya.”
Osamu's face breaks into a smile, and a soft chuckle to try and maintain his calm and collected persona in front of the older man.
“Yeah, Yeah.” Osamu nods his head trying not to come off as overly eager, “I'd really love that.”
suna rintarou, 角名 倫太郎 .
He's laying on the living room couch, taking up the entire space while his roommate/teammate sits on the floor with his back pressed against the couch, and his legs crossed.
Suna Rintarou's scrolling on his phone in boredom, wondering if he should've went to the gym instead of opting out to lounge around. The members of EPJ RAIJIN were given the weekend to relax, everyone besides Suna used their days to be productive.
He spent majority of the day in his bedroom catching up on sleep, or on his phone scrolling through TikTok videos.
And if he wasn't doing that, his roommate could hear him playing on his PlayStation with his former volleyball teammates from high school.
Komori Motoya, his roommate and teammate rolled his eyes in amusement when he'd found Suna lying on the couch. He'd praised Suna for stepping out of his bedroom.
Now, the two of them were on the living room, Komori patiently waited for the show on the screen to finish.
For the past month, he'd been invested in this idol variety show that played around 7:30 pm on Saturday's and Sunday's.
Suna didn't care for it, more so, he hadn't bothered to try and watch the show until tonight. It wasn't because he wanted to watch, Suna couldn't find the energy to get up and walk back to his bedroom so he opted to staying put and giving the show a try. Komori insisted it'd be good, reminding him of the several nights he spent laughing his ass off.
Komori is a lot easier to entertain, he finds dad jokes to be hilarious.
He doesn't pay much attention, eyes fixated on the screen of his phone. Suna hears the intro of the variety show play, and the excited squeal that escapes his friend's mouth every time his bias comes on screen.
The girls on the television are speaking in Korean, sometimes a bit of English is mixed into their conversations. He doesn't turn around until he hears the familiar bark of a girl, and his head whips to the screen to see the back of girl staring down at a white poodle.
A familiar girl is barking at a dog, the two going back and forth. The excited dog jumps forward startling the girl, who screeches turning around and sprinting in the direction of her member.
Suna is in disbelief as he stares at the screen, the phone in his hand falling out his face.
He groans in pain, Komori flinching at the sound. Suna doesn't hear the questions of concern coming from his roommate. Who gives up after a few minutes of noticing his dazed expression every time you pop up on the screen.
You really haven't changed one bit, besides the newly dyed color in your hair.
His eyes follow you on the screen, watching the way you jump on the table screeching at the top of your lungs.
A member of yours walks over standing at the end of the table, allowing you to climb on her back. She's scolding you for pissing off the dog and not being able to handle the consequences to your actions.
And Suna laughs, full on laughs with his entire chest reminded of a similar situation that happened between the two of you during your third year.
“You were basically asking for the dog to come at you.” Suna complains, heavily breathing with his hands resting on his knees. You were comfortably resting on his back, head frantically looking around for the dog that'd spent 10 minutes chasing the two of you around the neighborhood.
“He was looking at me weird!” You shouted body shifting slight to point in the direction you’d last seen the poodle. He doesn’t need to look at your face to know there’s a fire in your eyes.
You move your arm back around his neck, grip slightly tightening as you cling to him.
He can't help laugh at the odd beef that goes on between you and dogs.
“Hey, you'd sacrifice yourself for me if the dog came back right?” You're leaning forward, your warm breath tickling the crock of his neck. Suna should tell you no, drop you on your feet and make his great escape but his grip on your thighs tighten.
“In a heartbeat.”
Suna's more than happy to see he isn't the only person in your life that'd risk being eaten by a dog for you.
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