still the same— miya osamu
tags/warnings: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, pining, reader is hopelessly in love with osamu but he doesn’t know : (
word count: 3.5k
note: this is part of @hishalo it’s always been you collab, so i hope you enjoy ! more parts will be coming soon <3
also on: ao3
summary: you’ve been in love with your best friend ever since middle school. you’ve been there for him to cheer him on in volleyball and taste his onigiri recipes, and even when he begins seeing someone, you’re still there. but you pursue a different path, moving away to chase your dreams. when you return to your hometown, you encounter osamu once again and are thrown back to high school, falling for him all over again.
If you asked someone what emotion they felt when they were with their best friend, the last emotion you’d expect them to say is sadness.
But sometimes, when you were with Osamu, laughing on his bedroom floor or wiping stray grains of rice from his cheeks, you felt overwhelmingly sad and hopeless. Not because of his company, but because of a lack of feelings on his part. To put it simply, you were very much in love with your best friend who certainly didn’t feel the same way about you, and you could never tell him that you loved him.
Miya Osamu, one-half of the terrifying Miya twins, had been your best friend since middle school. Though you couldn’t care less about Atsumu (you suspected he still resented the fact he had to share his brother with you), you instantly clicked with the gray-eyed twin. It all started in the cafeteria, when his bowl of rice flew off his lunch tray, landing pitifully on the ground and on your new shoes. Osamu promptly started yelling at his twin, going on about how it was Atsumu’s fault for constantly bumping into him, which made the rice tip over. The honey-eyed twin denied such claims, flailing his arms all over in his passionate shouts, nearly hitting you in the face. The argument lasted around a minute (all of which Suna Rintaro had caught on his phone) and didn’t end until you cleared your throat, finally catching the attention of Osamu.
“I’m so sorry for ruining your shoes— it wasn’t my fault though. It was my idiot brother’s fault,” he stuttered out, grabbing Atsumu’s head and forcing it down as they bowed in apology.
“Oi! I told ya already— it was too your fault! You were the one who bumped into me first,” Atsumu grumbled.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Really, it’s alright,” you said, awkwardly looking between the brothers.
“No, it’s not! Those shoes looked new, and ‘Tsumu here ruined them!” Osamu protested, dodging another a blow from his brother.
“Are you two going to fight to rest of lunch period?” you sighed.
“Huh?” Atsumu asked, straightening up.
“Half of the lunch break has already passed, and none of us have even sat down to eat our food,” you pointed out, only receiving twin blank stares in return.
“Here,” you split half of your meal, transferring the food onto Osamu’s empty one.
His gray eyes glanced up from the food you dumped on his plate, meeting yours in a glossy gaze of wonder. Like you were some goddess divine who just blessed him with the best gift. He continued to stare at you like that for a moment, and you shifted uncomfortably under his prolonged eye contact.
Osamu continued to stand in silence, until suddenly he blurted out a enthusiastic “thank you!” before bowing to you and scurrying off to a table with his brother.
You remained frozen and confused for a beat, before turning away.
“So weird,” you muttered under your breath, hoping you would never have to endure another awkward encounter like that.
You continued through your day, wiping your shoes clean and dismissing the image of gray eyes shining up at you, making a vow to never talk to a Miya boy ever again.
Within the week, you had failed in your attempt to block out the Miyas.
You had become Osamu’s new favorite person, much to your dismay. It turned out the way to his little heart was food, and it was wholly dedicated to you (and partially Atsumu). You had a mere week of peace before a certain twin scurried up to you during lunch.
“What’s your favorite snack?” Osamu blurted out.
“Onigiri is really tasty, I guess,” you replied softly. You began to eat, willing the pair of eyes watching you to leave.
“Oh. Onigiri’s okay. My ma makes it sometimes for Atsumu and me,” he comments, still standing by you.
You only grunted in response, too busy eating to formulate a better response.
After a few minutes (way too long in your opinion), Osamu finally left you to enjoy your lunch in peace. You hummed in joy at the idea of breaking his weird resolve to talk to you, and munched on your udon.
Two weeks went by this time until Osamu Miya showed up at your lunch table once again.
This time, he brought a small bento, presenting it to your with a similar energy of a dog when it fetches a ball and brings it back to its owner. His eyes had a certain shine to them, like they did when you first met. You decided that he just did that whenever food was involved.
“Here! My ma finally made onigiri for ‘Tsumu and me, and I had her make some extra for you,” he said as he pushed the bento in front of you.
You stopped mid bite to glance up at the boy. He’s rocking on his heels in excitement, waiting for your reaction.
“What kind?” You asked.
“Salmon,” he replied.
“Cool, thanks,” you dismissed.
Osamu stood, waiting for you to open bento, wanting to see the smile on your face that his mother’s food always managed to put on his. But you didn’t reach for the box, and after waiting a little, he realized he probably wasn’t going to see you smile, and left.
The next day, you stood awkwardly at the table where the Miyas usually sat, next to some volleyball teammates. As they began to fill in, they glanced at you and the bento in your hand, whispering to each other, presumably about you.
You caught the words “crush” and “confession” among their murmurs, and finally one of them asked,
“Why are you holding a bento? You going to confess or something?”
You stared blankly at the boy, internally cringing at his nasally voice that hadn’t quite settled into a lower timbre, and the red blotches on his face. Why did boys have to be like this?
“No, I’m just returning this to Osamu,” you sighed.
“So… you don’t have a crush on him?” a different boy asked.
You suppressed a groan, hoping for the first time that Osamu would appear any second.
“Ew, definitely not,” you declared, “I would never have a crush on him.”
“Have a crush on who?” A familiar voice asked. As you turned around, Osamu and Atsumu walked towards your table, lunch trays in hand.
“No one,” you said quickly, shoving the bento in Osamu’s hands and promptly walking away before he could reply.
Two days later, when the light was blocked from a looming figure, you didn’t even bother to look up to see who it is. It wasn’t until the figure moved from standing to sitting did your head snap up to meet gray eyes.
“Did you like the onigiri?” Osamu asked simply.
You nodded, still dazed that he decided to sit with you instead of standing and waiting.
“Do you want me to bring you more whenever Ma makes it?” He offered you. The gleam in his eyes came back at the new mention of bringing food.
“Umm, sure,” you replied.
Osamu silently nodded, reclining in his chair and not saying anything more.
After an intense pause, you blurted out,
“Do you have a crush on me or something?”
You slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as you finished your question. The smack of the contact seemed to echo in the lunchroom, where all eyes were trained on your table after your (quite loud) outburst.
Osamu reeled back, blinking in surprise, before doing the last thing you’d expect him to do— laugh. It was a full laugh, one that came from his belly and was wholly felt in his heart. You thought it was a nice sound, if not a little too booming though. And you didn’t know why or when, but somewhere in the next few seconds, you had began to laugh along with him. Soon, the rest of the students had returned to their normal conversations, but you and Osamu continued to laugh. It started up again every time you stole a glance at him, and any progress in calming down was thrown out the window. You spend the rest of the lunch period staying like that— with Osamu, laughing and giggling over some unsaid joke that only you two seemed to understand.
Ever since that incident, Osamu became your other half— the sort of twin you never had. You no longer sat alone at lunch, as Osamu would always set his tray across yours every day. You would always scoop out your excess food on his tray, and in return, he would come bearing homemade onigiri at least once every week. Both of you discovered a shared love of food, dislike for his brother, and random things you would have never thought anyone else would enjoy. Soon, the two of you fell into a routine. You would spend your commute to and from school with Osamu (who often ditched his tardy brother), and met up again in the middle of the day for lunch. Atsumu was very vocal about his misery whenever Osamu was busy hanging out with you, but after a while you three formed a loose friendship. And by the end of your first year, you had completely broken your vow to never talk to a Miya boy.
Middle school went by in a flash— you discovered a passion for drawing and joined the art club while the twins continued to chase greatness on the volleyball court. You supported Osamu— coming to every game you could, fighting against your anxiety of crowds and loud noises to be able to cheer him on. He always made it up to you by giving double the onigiri he normally did. By his third year of middle school, Osamu had learned his mother’s recipe, always experimenting with different flavors (that you always taste-tested for him). You became an honorary Miya— his parents used to seeing you in their home, and your own parents insisted Osamu made himself at home after his fifth visit. After graduation, you all made sure to go to the same high school so you would still be together. You enrolled at Inarizaki, where the twins would play on the nationally renowned volleyball team and you would participate in the art program. Everything worked out perfectly for you— what could go wrong?
You quickly learned high school would be the start of your heartache.
Osamu Miya had been your best friend for the past three years— you had never felt discontented with him by your side. But somewhere along the summer entering your first year of high school, you began to feel an aching in your heart. You noticed it every time you hung out with Osamu, and though he hadn’t changed, it seemed you had.
“I think I have a crush on my best friend,” you confessed, flopping on your bed pitifully.
Your cousin, Yua, giggled next to you on the mattress, rolling over to face you.
“My, my, my, look who finally decided to grow up and face their feelings,” she teased.
You huffed, chucking a vabo-chan plush in her face.
“But seriously, you’re just now realizing your feelings for Osamu?” she continued, “you’ve been whining all summer about how you’re so sad he only sees you as a friend.”
“I never said any of that,” you scoffed.
“But I know that’s what you meant from all those phone calls crying over ‘his slightly crooked grin’ and how ‘he doesn’t seem to really see me anymore’,” she explained.
“Well I didn’t think those things were what a crush was! Aren’t crushes supposed to be when you giggle uncontrollably and feel butterflies every time he’s around?”
“I’ve seen the way you act around Osamu— your laugh is way more high pitched with him than with me,”
“Hey!”
“I’m just stating facts! And you can’t tell me that you don’t feel a few butterflies when you two hang out,”
You wilted under Yua’s pointed look, sighing in resignation at her statement.
“Yeah, I guess the truth has been there all along,”
“Yeah, it definitely has,”
You shoved Yua, laughing with her as you both fell back on the bed.
“Do you think this will change anything between us?”
“Depends on if you want it to change,”
You sighed, taking a minute before slowing answering,
“Sometimes I do wish we were more than just friends, but I think I would rather have him as a friend than not him at all.”
“Then, I would advise you to proceed with caution. Because it sounds like your heart might be hurt either way,”
“Osamu could never hurt me,” you insisted.
“I’m just saying, there might be a day where you have to choose whether to hold onto a past friendship or move on with a new romance,” Yua stated, “the middle is a dangerous place to stay.”
Some days, you questioned if not doing anything about your feelings was the right choice. It left you mourning a possible relationship that you didn’t have with Osamu, and fearful of losing a close friendship. Were you being selfish for not picking a side? Did you want too much from one person?
You began to feel overwhelmed from the constant longing and worrying, but the worst part was that you couldn’t share any of it with the person you normally would talk to. The boy who would lend you his shoulder to cry on, offer your favorite snack, and always make you smile was the source of all your happiness and the reason for your sorrow.
Osamu immediately noticed a shift in your dynamic once you graduated from middle school. The changes were subtle, but Osamu prided himself on being the observant twin. He noticed how you always seemed a little less comfortable when it was just you two, and how you always seemed to be hiding a secret from him. He tried to be understanding— you both were going into high school, a lot of changes were happening, and more of his time was taken up by volleyball. Was this what drifting apart looked like? It scared him so bad to think that you two wouldn’t be best friends forever, and that he wouldn’t have you to cook food for, to see you cheering in the stands at his games, and to laugh together with.
If you were moving in separate paths, he could possibly accept that, but not before trying everything he could to save your friendship.
“What’s been going on with you?” Osamu asked you one night, gently nudging your shoulder as he joined you on your favorite park bench.
You internally tensed, running excuses through your head that would satisfy Osamu enough to make him stop prying further. Keeping your crush from him was hard enough, you doubted you had the willpower to fabricate a whole story and lie straight to your best friend’s face.
“I don’t want to make you talk if you don’t want to, it’s just you’ve seemed so far away recently,”
You remained silent, avoiding his pained eyes. His words stabbed your heart, and you cursed yourself for causing the hurt tone in Osamu’ as voice.
“I don’t mean to seem like I’m ignoring you, ‘Samu— it’s just I’m going through something I can’t exactly talk about with you,”
Osamu nodded his head slowly, but you can tell it’s not the answer he wanted to hear. He reached into his jacket, and pulled out two salmon onigiri. He silently offered you one, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile at his antics.
“Why am I not surprised you stuffed two whole onigiri in your jacket and brought them all the way here,” you teased.
He simply smiled at you, digging into the snack.
Finally, you quietly muttered, “I just don’t want anything to change between us.”
And that was the truth, partially. Because while you really did hope your friendship would stay constant, you couldn’t deny the desire for a different love to grow between you.
“It won’t,” Osamu declared, “all we’re doing is going to high school— it won’t change anything about us or our friendship.”
With that certainty, you almost wanted to believe him.
“Promise?” you asked, lifting your pinkie in the air.
“I promise ya,” he answered, linking his finger with yours.
You knew Osamu never made promises he wouldn’t keep, now you just had to keep your end of the promise and not let affections get in the way.
The twins were immediately popular due to their position on the volleyball team, and their handsome faces and athletic builds didn’t help in warding off the group of fans that would flirt with them daily. And with news of Inarizaki making it to nationals again with the unstoppable Miya twins at the vanguard, the boys were as popular as ever. Atsumu relished in the attention, always leading them on and accepting gifts with pride. Osamu, in contrast, disliked the attention and simply accepted gifts and would politely explain that he wasn’t looking to date anyone. His refusal often just led to them trying their luck with the blonde twin, leaving their attraction to Osamu in the dust. But a few loyal fans pursued him even after being denied, and they quickly noticed your closeness to the spiker. Countless strangers would come to you, handing gifts and homemade goods to relay to your best friend, or a few would treat you rudely out of jealousy.
“Why do you always turn down confessions?” you finally asked Osamu on the way back home one night. The two of you had shared the box of nicely decorated cookies a first year shyly presented to Osamu earlier.
“I’m just not really interested in any of them,” he replied, wiping his hands on his shirt to get rid of stray crumbs.
“Is there someone else you had in mind?” you inquired.
Someone like me? Your heart whispered.
Osamu rubbed the back of his neck bashfully before admitting, “yeah, actually someone does come to mind.”
Oh.
“Yo—you like somebody?”you spluttered, astonished he yielded so easily to your questioning.
He must really like them, whoever it is, you thought mournfully.
“Yeah, I do,” he stated simply, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Do I know them?” you probed.
He shrugged his shoulders, replying, “they’re a classmate of mine that I’ve shared a lot of classes with, but I think I’m just now noticing them.”
Your heart fluttered slightly at this description.
No way he’s actually talking about me, though.
“Are you going to tell them you like them?” you posed.
“Maybe,” he hummed, “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
His eyes finally met yours, and flickered down to your mouth. Slowly, he reached out and brushed his thumb against the corner of your lips. A small satisfied smile broke out on his face as he retracted his hand.
Your breath stuttered as your brain processed what just happened. You could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks and prayed Osamu wouldn’t notice the flushed color.
“There was a crumb on your face,” he stammered.
Were you just imagining the matching stain of pink on his cheeks?
You opened your mouth to reply, but a loud shout silenced whatever words you had to say.
“OI!”
Both of you turned around to see Atsumu barreling down the lane.
“C’mere, ya scrub! Ma won’t let me eat dinner until ya come home,” he complained.
“Shuddap, ‘Tsumu! Ya wake up the neighbors with your shouting!” Osamu scolded.
Knowing the argument that was to come, you lazily bid goodbye to the twins and made your way home.
Though the street was quiet, with only the scuffing of your shoes filling the silence, your thoughts were loud as they circled.
Osamu didn’t have a crush on you. There was no way. He hadn’t changed the way he acted or did anything to raise suspicion of affection.
Not unless you counted the description of the person he liked and him being flustered to wipe stray crumbs off your face.
But plenty of people fit his description along with you, and he could have been embarrassed because you two are just friends.
Osamu Miya, your best friend whom you harbored the biggest crush on, definitely didn’t like you back.
Even though he never really interacted with other girls, exclusively made food and treats for you, and refuses to give you the name of the person he’s interested in.
And that’s not even mentioning how he lent you his jacket on cold nights, nursed you when you were ill, or seemed to remember every little detail or quirk you mentioned.
“All that worrying isn’t going to do you any good,” you could basically hear your mother’s nagging in your head.
You knew she was right, and that running through the questions of “does he?” and “what if?” did nothing for you. A definitive answer of knowing who Osamu liked, however, would.
You easily typed in a memorized number, and before the second ring you heard a familiar greeting.
“Suna, I need your help with something,”
*reblogs and comments are appreciated : )