Archive of Our Own ^beta

Slam!

The sound of the volleyball hitting the floor after a particularly hard serve is usually cathartic enough to eclipse everything else that goes wrong in his life, but tonight, Atsumu can barely hear it.

Tonight, it's not enough.

Slam!

He grabs another ball from the bin, trying to focus on his steps so he can't remember the look on Hinata's face when he realized what Atsumu had done. 

Slam!

The way the painful realization spread so slowly in his eyes, because Hinata is kind above all else, so trusting and eager to see the best in people, and to him, Atsumu hurting him like this was unfathomable. He didn't want to believe it. Never considered Atsumu could be so cruel.

Slam!

Hinata's fake smile, trying to assure everyone he was alright even though they could all see his heart fall openly apart.

Slam!

His lowered head, as if that would be enough to mask the fact that he was crying, before he blurted out a pointless excuse and ran away.

Atsumu wants to scream.

"Are you just gonna keep practicing serves all night?"

Atsumu flinches so violently he almost drops the next ball in his hands, not expecting to hear Sakusa's voice echoing through the otherwise empty space of the gymnasium. It's long after midnight now. Everyone else has gone home, even the cleaners, who gave Atsumu what passed for pitying looks before heading on their way.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Atsumu turns his head to the side, where Sakusa is standing by the doorway, hands stuffed in the pockets of his MSBY windbreaker, expression stark yet far from unreadable. His posture is slouched like he's completely unaffected by the tense atmosphere in the air, but even from this distance, Atsumu can see how rigid Sakusa is. How angry.

He has a right to be.

"Aw, Omi-kun, couldn't sleep? Want me to read you a bedtime story?" Atsumu stretches his lips in his signature smarmy grin, but it feels off, tight, wrong, so wrong, and if he can't even fool himself, how the hell is he supposed to fool the one person who has a right to hate him just as much as Hinata does?

Sakusa's eyes tighten. "I take it you're not going tomorrow."

Atsumu lets out an empty laugh, using the excuse of wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist to turn away from the full brunt of Sakusa's judgemental stare. "As if he'd even want me to."

"The rest of the team will be there to see him off. He'll notice if you're not present."

"And he'll probably be grateful for it." He twists the ball in his hands, keeping his awful smile plastered on, faker than plastic. "C'mon, Omi-kun, you know better than anyone that Shouyou-kun hates my guts. He'll have a much better send-off without me dragging him down."

"And you know that Hinata is physically incapable of hating anyone. Even when he should."

Atsumu's mask cracks. Splinters. "I don't have time for this."

Sakusa makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Why am I not surprised? You always did take the coward's way out."

Oh, that does it. "What the hell do you want from me?" he bursts out, whirling back around with a vengeance. "You told me to stay away from him and now you're here to—what? Ask me to join his airport entourage? Get me to lie to him one last time and tell him I'm happy for him that he gets to play in Brazil again? That I'm rooting for him? That I hope he'll have a great time? Because that's what it all is: a big fucking lie. I'm not happy for him, and I'm not glad to see him go. I—" Atsumu inhales sharply, blunt nails digging into the volleyball as he tries to breathe through his teeth in an attempt to wrangle that awful mask back onto his face where he seems cruel and unaffected, because anything is better than this horrible, suffocating feeling that refuses to leave his lungs. "Trust me," he laughs hollowly. "He doesn't—he doesn't want me there. And I don't want to be there."

No—that last part is a lie, too. Because Atsumu does want to go to the airport. He does want to see Hinata. But only for selfish reasons. Only to beg.

He doesn't deserve to. So instead he'll piss Sakusa off even more and pretend that practicing his serves here, in the MSBY gym, after closing hours, away from the prying eyes of his teammates and the suffocating absence of the boy he irreparably hurt, is good enough. That he doesn't need anything else. Anyone else. He never did before.

But things are different now.

Now, he knows what it's like to have someone to lose.

It all starts with a dare.

"Aw, c'mon, it'll be fun!" Inunaki says, which should be his first clue that this is a terrible idea, because out of all the demons on the Jackals, Atsumu is certain that their baby-faced libero takes the devilish cake.

"Yeah, fun for you," Atsumu scowls. "Not for me, who'll have to spend the next few months getting teased for a heartbreak I don't even want."

They're all at Thomas and Inunaki's house, two days before regular practices start up in preparation for the new season, getting absurdly drunk while they still can. Almost everyone on the team is here except for Hinata and Sakusa, who live one street over and opted to stay in and watch an international volleyball game instead of wasting their time guzzling beer, the way they always do.

To this day, Atsumu still has no idea whether the misanthropic Sakusa is the one who convinces Hinata to decline party invitations with him or if Hinata just uses his roommate's introversion as an excuse not to be peer pressured into drinking with everyone else.

It's kind of adorable either way. Hinata, for all that he loves people, is actually a really gentle, domestic person who prefers to host happy dinner parties rather than raucous, drunken blowouts. He never touches alcohol, but he gets so excited when he tries out a new homemade recipe that he sometimes brings them as snacks for the entire team.

It'd be prime teasing material if it were anyone else, but because it's Hinata, it's only hopelessly endearing instead.

"Shouyou will be very kind about it," Barnes offers helpfully. "He's always so sweet when he turns down girls after games."

"Yeah, the jerk," Meian says. "Cute and nice? How awful of him."

"Can't relate, huh, captain?" Atsumu grins, earning him a handful of nuts thrown in his direction in retaliation.

Inunaki shifts on his cushion, eyes impressively clear for the person who always drinks the most despite being one of the shortest. "Seriously, though, Miya, why not? It's just a dumb dare. Confessing to Hinata is easy compared to some of the other shit we've done."

Atsumu snorts. "Yeah, no thanks." He's not sixteen anymore. What, do these guys really think he'll agree to this just because they told him it was a dare? He's not an idiot. He's better than that.

Eyes glinting dangerously, Inunaki swirls his can and leans back as he drawls, "Oh, I see why it is. You're scared."

Atsumu's brow twitches.

Goddamn it.

Ten minutes later, Atsumu ends up waiting for Hinata at the small park down the street while the others hide not-so-discreetly behind some bushes, wondering if he'll ever stop rising to such obvious bait.

Probably not.

Atsumu kicks at the dirt, grimacing at what he's about to do. He's never asked anyone out before; never even had the urge to so much as consider something like that. Relationships have always been of no interest to him. All he cares about is volleyball, and how to get better at volleyball, and how to beat everyone and become one of the best, not just in Japan, but the entire world.

Getting dared to confess to someone seems like something he would've been challenged to do in middle school, if he'd been less of a dick then and maybe had some actual friends aside from his brother. It's ridiculous and juvenile and totally beneath him, but the fact that this is Hinata, one of the few people he genuinely doesn't dislike because he's actually a really sweet kid… That both makes it better and worse.

Better because Hinata will probably be completely understanding when Atsumu tells him it was a dare tomorrow and laugh it off with him without ever once laughing at him. Worse because the mere possibility of this fucking with their friendship is enough to leave Atsumu's stomach in knots.

"Atsumu-san? You wanted to see me?"

Hinata looks adorable in his oversized knit sweater, the deep brown color complimenting his fading tan and making him look like he stepped right out of a fall catalogue. The sleeves are wide and long, so they nearly hang past his fingertips as he stops in front of Atsumu, peering up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

"Is everything alright? Do you guys need something over at Wan-san's? I can make you snacks if you're hungry!"

God, this boy. He's way too sweet for his own good. A tinge of guilt twists in Atsumu's gut, but he quickly pushes it down, reassuring himself with the knowledge that he'll be able to clear this all up tomorrow and everything will be alright. "Nah, we're fine," he says, then realizes maybe he should be a little more flirty or nervous if he's about to profess his undying affection or whatever. "I just—wanted to see you." There. That's pre-confessiony, right?

Hinata's face lights up like a little puppy about to be given a treat and Atsumu has to flex his fingers to keep from running them through his fluffy orange hair. "I'm so happy to see you, too! I feel like it's been forever!"

That makes his lips twitch. "We saw each other last week," Atsumu points out. "Besides, when full-time training starts up again, we'll be seeing so much of each other it'll make you sick."

Hinata widens his eyes adorably. "Your presence could never make me sick, Atsumu-san!"

So cute. Atsumu bites back a full-on grin. "Anyway, it's your own fault for always declining party invitations to be a hermit with Omi-kun. Seriously, you two spend an awful lot of time together. What do you even have to talk about?"

Hinata and Sakusa are about as different as two people can get. Light and dark. Sunshine positive and woefully pessimistic. When management found them a small house to share since they both joined the Jackals around the same time, the team placed bets on how long it would take for Sakusa to attempt murder.

However, to everyone's utter surprise, the two of them ended up getting along perfectly, even if Sakusa publicly acted otherwise. It's like a little bunny befriending a wild, rabid wolf. It makes no sense at all, and yet here they are, over a year later, still bonding over random things like perfect mop solutions and marinating chicken.

"Lots of things!" Hinata rocks back on his heels, expression thoughtful. "Cooking, cleaning, physical therapy—oh, and we trade a lot of books and articles on flexibility maintenance and joint pain prevention, too! Plus, we like—"

"Oh my god," Atsumu says. "I'm on a team with a bunch of eighty-year-olds."

"Shut up!" Laughing, Hinata smacks at Atsumu's arm with his long sleeve like a playful whip. "We just value self-care, okay? And it's not like we don't like things other than the serious stuff. We have lots of recreational hobbies, too!"

"Like volleyball?" Atsumu teases.

Hinata pouts, and it's way too endearing than it should be for someone his age. "As if you're any better! You're just as much of a volleyball geek as I am!"

"At least I—" He's cut off by a sharp coughing sound from behind the bushes, making him stiffen and reminding him they're not as alone as they seem to be.

Hinata looks startled, head jerking towards the sound, eyes wide and spooked like the terrified friend character in a B-rated horror movie. "W-what was that?"

"Nothing. Probably just a dumb animal or something." Atsumu glares in their direction, willing them to get a gazillion bug bites for being so damn stupid.

What if Hinata went over there to check and saw them? Are they really missing that many brain cells?

But they're telling Atsumu to hurry it up, and for the sake of his pride, he has to deliver.

"Actually, Shou-kun, there is a reason I needed to talk to you. Something important."

Hinata is instantly on high alert. "Is everything okay?"

"No—I mean, yeah, everything's fine, it's just…" Fuck, he's actually a little nervous. From a fake confession. How embarrassing.

His face must be more twisted than he thought because Hinata places a gentle hand on his arm, looking up at him with concern. "Atsumu-san?"

Atsumu hides a grimace, already feeling like a bastard for what he's about to do. "Shouyou-kun, I… I like you. Will you go out with me?"

The sudden silence is deafening. Honestly, he's not sure how the others are managing to contain their laughter, especially considering how drunk most of them are.

As far as fake confessions go, Atsumu wants to think he's not doing too terribly. Maybe less build-up than he initially aimed for, but dramatic enough to be passable. If it were a real confession, it would probably leave a lot to be desired, but for now, all Atsumu cares about is getting this over with so he can go back to the party and find an equally embarrassing dare to make Inunaki suffer with, because he didn't realize how uncomfortable the idea of emotions made him until this moment, standing in front of the sweetest boy he knows, acting like he has a soul.

Hinata still hasn't answered, staring at Atsumu with an expression that's surprisingly hard to decipher considering Hinata usually wears his whole heart open on his face. For a moment, Atsumu considers taking it back, laughing it off as a joke or something before Hinata has time to consider it instead of after, but then a small flush crawls across Hinata's cheeks, the tiniest dusting of pink, and he quickly wets his lips, his eyes wide and shining.

"R-really?"

No, but Atsumu's a sore loser and refuses to back down from this dare now. "Totally," he lies. "You're cute. I'm hot. We'd make a great couple. So what do you say?"

Atsumu is waiting patiently for the sweet, polite refusal—earnest and genuinely apologetic, the way Hinata always turns down everyone who asks him out—so it comes as a complete and utter shock when Hinata blushes deeper, eyes cast shyly down before he bobs his head in something of a nod and stammers out, "I-I'd love to! I'd—really like that a lot."

"Aw, that's too ba—wait, what?" Atsumu freezes with a sharp intake of breath when Hinata's words finally register in his mind. An acceptance, not a refusal. "Did you just—say yes?"

"O-of course," Hinata replies, still very pink. "I mean… I—I guess I wasn't hiding how I felt about you as well as I hoped I was—I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable, not ever—but I—I didn't think you'd ever like me back." He laughs a little, still avoiding Atsumu's gaze, and oh god, it'd be almost cute how shy he looks if Atsumu weren't filled with stunned dread. "This is—I almost can't believe this is happening right now. I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"This isn't a dream," Atsumu says automatically, in a daze, because it sure feels like he's dreaming right now. Living in a goddamn nightmare.

Hinata reaches up to rub at his own cheek, sleeves tucked habitually beneath his curled fingers, and Atsumu catches how even the tips of his ears are tinged with red. "C-cool," he says shyly. "Does that mean we're boyfriends?"

"I—guess?" Atsumu is trying very hard not to panic. He also has to restrain himself from whipping his head around to send a pleading look at where the others are hiding, unsure of what to do next.

When he accepted this dare, it was with the expectation that Hinata would let him down easy and then Atsumu would go back to the others and spend the rest of the week getting made fun of for something they all knew he didn't want to do in the first place.

He never thought Hinata would say yes. That Hinata would admit to having real, genuine feelings to him and agree to date.

"Cool," Hinata says again, just as shy, just as sweet, and when he looks up at Atsumu from beneath those long, curled lashes with eyes so bright and hopeful he should be photographed on some kind of goddamn Christmas card, Atsumu knows he fucked up.

"W-wait!" Atsumu blurts out. "You—you should know that I'm gonna be a terrible boyfriend. I mean, like the worst. I'm an asshole and I hate most people and I think there's nothing more boring than being nice, so I never do it, ever, not unless I can gain something from it, and it's far more fun to try and make people squirm. Why would you even want to date someone like me?"

To his surprise, Hinata only laughs, gentle and kind, his eyes so soft it physically hurts because oh god please let this be a dream, Hinata can't look at him that way, not when Atsumu's currently winning every award for the biggest dickhead on earth. "You're so much nicer than you think you are, Atsumu-san. I wish you knew."

No. No, Atsumu's an ass. An ass who screwed up and took a dare without thinking about the consequences, and now he's trapped because he needs to come clean before this goes any further, but how the hell is he supposed to do that when Hinata is looking at him with the softest eyes and the pinkest cheeks, like Atsumu's actually worth something like that? Like he deserves it?

Hinata ducks his head a little before stepping in, just a bit closer, his face so red he's almost shaking, one hand reaching up to grip at Atsumu's shirt. "Can… Can I—?"

Still stunned, Atsumu has no idea what he's asking so he nods anyway, like a dumb fucking doll, brainlessly bobbing his head without any thought to what he's agreeing to, and then it's too late because Hinata's tugging Atsumu's face down while rising on his toes just enough to press the sweetest kiss against his lips. Hinata's lips are soft, gentle, yet surprisingly deliberate and practiced, a thousand times more experienced than Atsumu is, and yet when Hinata pulls back and rests back on his heels, beaming up at him like Atsumu's the most amazing thing he's ever seen, it's like to Hinata, this kiss with Atsumu is all that's ever mattered.

"Atsumu-san, I—"

Hinata's cut off by the faint sound of buzzing at his hip, and he glances down, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. He grimaces at whatever he sees on the screen.

"Oh, that's Omi-san. I told him I'd only be a minute so he's wondering if I got kidnapped." He laughs a little, sheepish. Sweet.

Atsumu tries to swallow, but it feels like his throat is closing in on itself. "It's fine. You should—head back. Then."

"Yeah?" Hinata nibbles on his bottom lip, the same one that had brushed against Atsumu's a mere moment before. "Is that okay? I can tell him—"

"No!" Atsumu blurts, then inwardly cringes at the surprised look on Hinata's face, taken aback by his adamant refusal. "N-no, I mean—I should probably get back to the guys, too, before they come looking for me. I snuck out to see you, so."

"Right, that makes sense!" Hinata is still wilting, though he looks a little dopey-faced with happiness at the thought of Atsumu sneaking out for him.

Atsumu nods rapidly, stupidly. "Practices start up in a couple days anyway, so we'll see each other then."

"O-oh," Hinata says. "I thought—maybe tomorrow, we could—"

"'Samu!" Atsumu blurts. "I—I mean—I already told 'Samu that I'd help out at the restaurant tomorrow, seeing as I won't be able to much once the season gets under way."

Hinata brightens back up. "Oh, of course! I can come with you if you need the extra hands—"

"No, it's fine," Atsumu says quickly. "Really, you shouldn't have to waste your last day off being berated while you perform acts of selfless manual labor at the hands of a cruel, unfair dictator who seems to take pleasure in criticizing everything you do."

Hinata laughs. "I think the only person Osamu-san bullies is you, Atsumu-san."

"So—Monday," Atsumu says, before Hinata can offer to help again and Atsumu runs out of excuses on why it's a terrible, terrible idea.

"Monday!" Hinata smiles, so easily pacified. It makes the guilt even more suffocating. "I can cook for you after practice? Omi-san and I meant to try out a new tonkatsu recipe, and I know you really like to load up on protein after working out!"

"Sure." His smile feels like plastic stretched over his own skin, but Hinata brightens to see it, always too sweet, too trusting, never having any reason to believe that Atsumu would deceive him so Hinata believes him when he's faking sincerity.

"Yay! I'm—I'm really happy, Atsumu-san! I—" Hinata blushes deeper for a moment, then, in what seems like a quick burst of courage, he tugs on the front of Atsumu's practice shirt as he rises onto his toes to plant another kiss on the cheek, right next to his lips. Somehow it makes Atsumu's heart seize even more than the first one. "I'm really happy," he says again, like the warmest, pinkest firefly in the night, and Atsumu feels his gut sink impossibly more as he tries to imagine crushing that kindness with the truth. "I'll text you tomorrow, 'kay?"

With that, Hinata bounces away down the street, but not before throwing another brilliant smile back at Atsumu, radiant even in the dim lighting at this hour.

Atsumu lets his own fake smile fall the instant Hinata is out of sight.

Fuck. He's so screwed.

*

Inunaki can't stop laughing. Thomas is laughing too, but that might be because none of them realized that one of their teammates had been passed out drunk on the couch and missed the whole display until Atsumu rushed them all back to their house in fear that Hinata would hear them cackling down the street and realize they'd been watching.

He may be an ass who just made the biggest mistake of his life, but he's not the kind that likes to kick puppies. And hurting Hinata would be the equivalent of running over a dozen puppies with a truck.

"This isn't funny!" Atsumu cries, unsure if he wants to whack Inunaki over the head with a pillow or bury his face in his hands.

"You're in a relationship for the first time in your life and it's all because of a dare. It's a little funny."

"He—he said yes. What the hell was I supposed to do? Laugh in his face, shout, 'Haha just kidding!' and dance away like he didn't just admit to having genuine feelings for me despite never giving any indication of it before now?"

"It's very unexpected," Meian agrees. "Who would've thought Hinata had a thing for assholes?"

Inunaki looks thoughtful. "Y'know what, it kind of makes sense. Hinata's the only one who laughs at Miya's awful jokes, and they're like—stupid bad. You only do that if you're really hot for someone's dick."

"I thought that was because he was nice."

"Being a nice person and having a terrible taste in guys seem to go hand in hand."

Atsumu wants to rip his hair out. "Why are none of you taking this seriously? What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, relax." Inunaki rolls his eyes and leans back against the foot of the couch, swirling his probably warm beer that he no longer has any intention of drinking. "It'll be fine. Just date him long enough for him to realize what a bastard you are and then he'll break up with you on his own. No big deal."

"No big deal?" Atsumu repeats incredulously. "No big deal? Are you kidding me? I've never dated anyone before! How the hell am I supposed to fake it with someone I'm not even into?"

Barnes hums, playing with the tab of his can, folding it back and forth while being careful not to let it snap off. "You could do a lot worse than Shouyou."

Inunaki nods solemnly. "Hinata, on the other hand, could do a lot better."

"Okay, rude. And not the point!"

"Give it a month," Meian says. "If he doesn't break up with you on his own, you can play the 'sorry, I thought I could make it work but this isn't for me' card. Tell him how you realized you want to focus on volleyball instead. He's as much of a freak as you are. He'll understand."

"A month in a fake relationship," Atsumu says dully. His first relationship. His first kiss—oh god. He lets his forehead thump against the cool wood of the chabudai, a long moan escaping his lips.

Someone pats his head in a show of awkward comfort. "It'll be over before you know it," Thomas says encouragingly.

Somehow Atsumu doubts it.

*

The Black Jackals practice in an arena at the edge of Ohasuhigashi, near the Kyuuhouji Green Space, which is the only place in the district that gets any sort of traffic because of all the locals who like to watch the college baseball team play.

Other than that, the area is fairly quiet, and Atsumu definitely prefers it that way. It wasn't luck that landed him a spot on one of the only professional teams stationed in his home region. It was by design. For all the confidence he boasts, Atsumu hates change outside of volleyball, and he likes to keep everything else on a boring, steady, familiar foundation so he's able to take risks on the court he wouldn't otherwise find possible.

Staying close to Hyougo is one of many crutches he clung to once he realized his brother wouldn't be joining him in the pros. An apartment two hours from his grandmother is another.

At eighteen, he hadn't been ready to move out of Kansai, and now, almost twenty-four, he still doesn't think he's ready.

It comforts him to know that he and Osamu are still twins in this aspect, because Osamu set up his restaurant nearby too, closer to Atsumu, despite knowing he'd have more success in someplace like Tokyo or even just a little further north, in more touristy areas of Osaka like Kita or Minami.

Still, Atsumu refuses to feel bad about wanting to stay close to home; about preferring suburbs to cities, distance to crowds. He doesn't need to move to the other side of the globe to show he's passionate about what he does. Volleyball is his life. It's all he's ever cared for, outside his family. It's all he's ever needed. He's been trying to get better at surface friendships since he no longer has Osamu to buffer his bad attitude so it doesn't affect his volleyball, but romantic relationships are pointless. They serve zero purpose.

Or at least, that's what Atsumu tells himself when he arrives to practice on Monday morning to see Hinata waiting outside the front door like the doting boyfriend he thinks he is.

"Atsumu-san!" Hinata's whole face lights up at the sight of him, and Atsumu plasters on his fakest grin, still unused to the idea that someone might find value in him outside his sport.

Even talking to Osamu about this yesterday had been less than helpful—though that might be because Atsumu was too chicken to admit what he'd done. He'd gotten as far as saying he confessed to Hinata, and Osamu didn't even look up from the rice he was molding as he said, "Oh, yeah? About time. Congratulations."

Atsumu spent the rest of the day trying to keep from repeatedly bashing his head into the wall at how terribly he messed up again. Osamu called him stupid thrice, but that's just who he is.

"Hey, Shouyou-kun," Atsumu says, keeping his smirk light, casual. "Were you waiting for me? How cute! You shouldn't have."

Hinata blushes like an angel and Atsumu is pretty sure he's going to hell. "I haven't seen you all weekend," he protests. "I just wanted to say hi. Is that so weird?"

No. I'm just an asshole. "You're adorable," he says instead, and ruffles Hinata's hair.

Hinata pushes out his bottom lip in a pout, and Atsumu is struck with the reminder of how it felt brushing against his. Is he supposed to kiss as a greeting? How comfortable are they supposed to be? Ironically enough, Hinata is the one with far more relationship experience, but Atsumu knows that's almost more of a curse than a blessing because Hinata has made it clear he's letting Atsumu take the reins the same way he does on the court—which would be sweet if Atsumu weren't constantly freaking out over what he's supposed to be doing.

Fake relationships are so fucking stressful. Atsumu has no doubt he has it worse because this particular fake relationship is entirely one-sided.

"I'm not a kid," Hinata grumbles. "You don't have to treat me like one."

Atsumu's hand pauses in his hair, realizing this could come off as condescending when they're supposed to be boyfriends. "No?" he says, recovering quickly. He moves his hand to tip Hinata's head back, deciding that kisses aren't a big deal anymore now that he's already lost his first one, so he leans down to give him a quick peck. "Better?" He keeps his voice light, teasing, but the look of utter shock on Hinata's face makes him think maybe he overstepped.

Too fast for a new relationship? Is he already fucking up?

But then Hinata's face splits with a wide, glowing smile that could light up the whole damn street, and he pulls Atsumu back down so he can give him another kiss, still chaste yet somehow sweeter.

"Much, much better!" Hinata beams, then starts tugging on Atsumu's sleeve to lead him inside. "I didn't think you'd be okay with PDA since I don't think I've ever seen you date anyone before," he says as they head towards the changerooms. "Is it okay then? If I want to hold your hand and stuff? If I tell anyone else?"

Atsumu tenses. "You haven't told Omi-kun yet?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd want me to," he admits. "Since you were in such a hurry to get back before anyone came looking for you that night." He glances up at Atsumu's face and whatever expression he must be making makes Hinata widen his eyes as he hurries to say, "It's okay though! It's okay if you don't want to tell anyone. I just wanted to make sure, before we had practice this morning."

Ah. So that's why he was waiting outside, alone, ten minutes to practice, even though he and Sakusa are always the first to arrive. "It's fine," Atsumu says after a moment, voice careful to be airy even though he's so tense. "Should probably keep it close though. It might not be as big a deal to be an openly gay athlete these days, but it's still safer not to flaunt it. Anything else might distract from volleyball."

Hinata nods his head in determined agreement. "Volleyball comes first," he says, without any hesitation, and Atsumu almost lets a genuine smile slip out for the first time this morning at the unwavering conviction in his tone.

"You really do only have one brain cell, don't you?" Atsumu asks fondly.

Hinata snorts. "As if you're any better! I've seen your volleyball print pajamas, Atsumu-san. You're not nearly as cool as you think you are."

"Oh?" Atsumu grins, feeling the tension unfurl from his belly, replaced by the same effortless hum he usually feels when he and Hinata banter, without the same condescension that other people tack on, just for him. "So uncool you've been dying to date me, right? How long have you been holding onto this crush without me knowing? C'mon, I won't judge!"

To his surprise, Hinata doesn't blush, at least not to the extent he has been since they agreed to start dating, only the tiniest bit of pink flushing across his cheeks as he rolls his eyes and glances over with a grin. "It's not my fault," he says. "I've been told I have terrible taste in men."

"Oi."

"You better not be too distracted by my ass to set properly, Atsumu-san. I may be your boyfriend now, but I'll still judge you if you don't give me the tosses that I want."

Atsumu almost trips. "You little brat," he says, choking on a laugh, and then they're both laughing as they enter the locker room, only for Sakusa to scowl at them and grumble, "Why are you both so annoying this early in the morning? Please shut up," which of course only makes them laugh harder.

It might not be so bad, Atsumu thinks, to be in a fake relationship, as long as it's with someone like Hinata, who loves and prioritizes volleyball the way he does. Barnes wasn't exaggerating when he said that Atsumu could do worse.

If he were being honest with himself, he doesn't think he could do any better.

*

Over the next couple weeks, Atsumu realizes that maybe he'd been overthinking the whole relationship thing, because "dating" Hinata turns out to be surprisingly easy.

And by easy, he means most things remain the same.

With practices starting up again, their main focus is on converting all that specified training they did separately during off-season into usable skills they can exploit on the volleyball court. For some of them, it also means a lot of muscle and stamina rebuilding, because it was easy for them to let things slide when they weren't being constantly hounded by day-long sessions.

Thankfully, Atsumu mostly kept up with his training regimen along with the other starters, but even then, the hell the coaches put them through with circuits and running drills is enough to have Atsumu unable to catch his breath by day five.

"How the hell are you still on your feet?" Atsumu pants as Hinata stretches his calves standing up despite the fact that most of their teammates are practically melted pancakes on the floor.

"I can run ten more laps!" Hinata declares.

Sakusa, who literally has not moved for the past ten minutes to the point where Atsumu is almost concerned, reaches up from where's he's plastered to the ground to wrap his his fingers around Hinata's ankle, a wordless "sit down before I make you, you abominable idiot."

Hinata sits.

Flopped over on the other side of the gym, Thomas moans.

Life is so packed with volleyball that Atsumu almost forgets he's in a fake relationship at all. Hinata likes to sneak kisses whenever he gets a chance, usually before and after practice, but they're never more than quick pecks on the lips, not even rated by the most conservative movie standards.

And since the first twelve days of practice are basically a training camp, hardcore pre-season conditioning that makes them want to tear their legs off, they don't have time to do anything afterwards either. The most they do together is when Atsumu annoys the hell out of Sakusa by crashing over at their house for dinner or when Hinata comes over to his apartment and Atsumu pretends he has actual vegetables in his fridge even though they both know Osamu is the sole benefactor of anything edible he owns.

It's… simple. Effortless. The exact same as when they'd just been friends and teammates.

It's so effortless, in fact, that Atsumu forgets to stress about it after the first week, and soon two weeks have gone by and he's started to get used to the kissing after practice and the home-cooked meals for dinner with the bonus of being able to piss Sakusa off around his own living room table, and he starts to think that maybe this relationship thing isn't so bad. It's just like friendship—another new concept he's still getting used to—except with a lot more home cooking.

This is cool. Fine. Telling Hinata the truth right now would just be a hassle. Hurtful for no reason. What's the point in breaking his heart when nothing has changed?

Atsumu can do this. He can be a fake boyfriend. He can be a great one. At least for a few more weeks.

Then Hinata asks him on a date.

*

After the third time Atsumu's leg bounces uncontrollably only to be stopped by his own hand when he realizes what he's doing, Hinata turns to him with a strange expression. "Atsumu-san, are you nervous?"

"No," Atsumu says, in the manner of someone who is very nervous.

"Oh my god."

"S-shut up!" he blurts. "I've never been out on a date, okay? Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not! I just—" Hinata's face blanks, alarming him, before Atsumu realizes he's just pressing his lips tightly together because he's trying really hard not to laugh.

His cheeks turn even redder. "That's it! I'm going home!"

"No!" Hinata grabs his hand, an earnest act even though he's a filthy, filthy traitor who is being a mean, awful fake boyfriend who doesn't know he's a fake boyfriend because Atsumu feels so embarrassed he could burst. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Hinata says soothingly, like a vet to a wild animal. "Forgive me? Please?"

"You won't tell me anything," Atsumu complains. "How the hell am I supposed to thoroughly research how to be a decent boyfriend if I don't even know what the hell we're doing?"

Hinata bites back another smile. "You've been looking up how to be a good boyfriend?"

"Well, it's not like it's something I'd be a natural at, damn it! I'm an asshole, didn't you know?!"

"You're not an ass," Hinata soothes. "You just have a really pretty one. Seriously, god tier."

Atsumu flushes. "You—you're making fun of me."

"Never," Hinata says, and if it weren't for his smile, so big and bright without any hint of spite or ill will, Atsumu would've gotten off at the next stop, right then and there. "I didn't mean to make you nervous by keeping things a secret," he adds honestly. "I just thought it would be easier if I took care of organizing everything so you didn't have to, and then I thought it would be fun to make everything a surprise. But I should've known it would make you uncomfortable instead of excited, and that's on me, not you."

Atsumu slumps back in his seat, mollified, though he's not a big enough person to completely release his pout. At least not yet. "I'm a setter. A control freak. I may be new to this whole dating thing, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with letting my—my—my boyfriend lead me blind, okay? I like to know where I'm stepping, even if I'll probably be stupid about a lot of things, too."

Hinata leans over to brush his cheek against Atsumu's shoulder, the closest he'll get to being physically affectionate in public, just as Atsumu asked. "Alright," he says softly. "How about next time, we plan it together then? Would that make you feel better?"

"Is there going to be a next time?" Atsumu asks thoughtlessly, only to curse himself for being so stupid when Hinata goes still.

"I… If you want," Hinata answers after a moment, his voice tentative, unsure.

The thing is, Atsumu doesn't mind this, the pretending to date Hinata thing. At least not as much as he thought he would. TV shows and romantic comedies have given him unrealistic expectations of what relationships are supposed to be like—filled with drama and emotion and way too many tears than are comfortable for someone who has been conditioned by society to act smarmy and unaffected at all times, if he wants to succeed—so Atsumu always wrinkled his nose up at the possibility, completely certain that it wasn't for him.

He much prefers this easy, natural thing between him and Hinata, where they can still tease each other and banter and Hinata just likes to kiss him sometimes, which Atsumu doesn't mind either. He's always very sweet about it, and it's kind of cute.

Besides, the concept of dates is weird in general, especially when it comes to two men who can't exactly do anything beyond smile at each other in public. It's just hanging out with someone one-on-one, the way you would with a friend, except there are unspoken romantic undertones and one person traditionally pays for the bill.

He tries not to make a face at that. If Hinata thinks he's paying for anything tonight, he's sorely mistaken. Atsumu may be a fake boyfriend, but he's going to be the best damn fake boyfriend there is.

"There will definitely be another date," Atsumu says, because he agreed to a month of this and he's still not ready to break Hinata's heart just yet. "I'm just not sure if we'll be able to have it soon, considering how busy practice has been."

Hinata exhales a breath, visibly relaxing, and Atsumu feels a little sick at how scared Hinata seemed at the mere thought that Atsumu wouldn't want to be with him anymore. How will he react when Atsumu finally ends things between them?

The others said this was easier, pretending first then breaking up later, rather than telling Hinata upfront that all his feelings were a lie, but Atsumu isn't sure if they're right. Won't Hinata just grow more attached?

Won't Atsumu be more afraid to hurt him?

"Practice will be easier from here on out," Hinata says. "Now that we've strengthened our foundation, we'll mostly be focusing on the stuff we like: volleyball, volleyball, and more volleyball! It's no hassle at all!"

Atsumu snorts, though it's undeniably fond in a way only Hinata can bring out of people. Such an idiot. "Why are you talking like you know Coach's training regimens better than me, you brat? I've been on the team way longer than you have. Respect your elders."

"You call Meian-san a grandpa every chance you get," Hinata points out dryly. "Where's your respect?"

"I'm special."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Atsumu flicks Hinata's forehead, making him yelp even as he laughs. "This is my first date ever," Atsumu pouts dramatically. "Aren't you supposed to be wooing me or something? Making me feel like the most dashing man on the planet? Lay down your jacket at my feet for me to walk on and stuff like that?"

Biting back a very obvious smile, Hinata cups both his hands around Atsumu's face and brings him in so they're almost nose to nose, close enough that he can see the specks of gold in Hinata's amber eyes, far too vibrant and dynamic to be real. His expression grows serious, and Atsumu feels his breath catch in his throat at the sudden intensity of Hinata's gaze. "Atsumu-san, you're really, really cute, and if we weren't currently riding a train full of people, I would kiss you right now. With tongue."

Atsumu turns a bright, blubbering, embarrassing red, and Hinata spends the rest of the train ride trying not to laugh at how flustered Atsumu became over a few little words.

*

They win their first two practice games. Atsumu has no doubt they'll win the third.

"We're champions," he sniffs. "It'd look bad if we lost to anyone else."

Inunaki wrinkles his nose. "I hate how you can say that with a straight face and not come across as a total douche."

"Oh no, he's definitely a douche," Meian says.

"But he's a hot douche," Hinata says helpfully. "And he's right! We're definitely gonna win! We'll win it all!"

Barnes places a fond hand on Hinata's head to ruffle his hair and gives Atsumu a pointed look. "See, this is how you can be confident without making people want to punch you in the face. Please take notes."

"I hate all of you," Atsumu says, then turns to Hinata with an exaggerated pout. "Shouyou-kun, I thought you were supposed to be on my side! Isn't that what being a boyfriend is all about?"

"I will always tell you you're pretty, even when you're a jerk," Hinata promises, making the others cackle. "Everything else is out of my control."

"No, I don't accept this. Clearly our relationship contract up until this point has been bogus. I demand a rewrite." Atsumu drapes the damp towel he'd been using to wipe up his own sweat over Hinata's neck, and Hinata lets out the most adorable yelp in protest as he half-heartedly tries to duck away from him, which Atsumu denies by pulling tighter on the ends of the towel, holding him close, like a collar or a leash. "New amendment: you tell me I'm pretty even when I'm being really awesome too, which is always. Also, you cook my favorite foods."

Laughing, Hinata lets his body be caged against Atsumu's and peers up at him with amused, sparkling eyes. "Don't I already do that? The only meal I don't make for you is breakfast, and you'd have to stay over for that, Cinderella."

"Omi-kun would murder me," he muses, like that's an enticing prospect instead of a repelling one.

"I could take him!" Hinata says. "I'll protect your honor! Be your white knight!"

"I'm more concerned for my head than my honor, thanks."

"Omi-san would never kill you! He would just glare at you so much that you know he's thinking about it."

Atsumu snorts, shifting his weight back a bit, enough that his hips brush Hinata's from how close they're standing. "You sure know how to reassure a guy, don't you, Shouyou-kun."

Meian clears his throat, reminding them they're not alone. Atsumu quickly checks their positions, realizing that even though the whole team knows of their "relationship," some more informed than others, their actions are probably a little too familiar. "You two look close," Meian says slowly. "Spending a lot of time together?"

There's a strange note in his voice that Atsumu can't quite place, but the look in his eyes—Atsumu doesn't like it. When he glances over at the others, he notices that they look similarly uneasy.

It makes something tighten in Atsumu's gut. Why are they looking like that when they're all aware of his fake relationship? They know this isn't real. What's there to be uncomfortable about?

"We're dating!" Hinata says, twisting his head around just enough to blink up at him. "Of course we spend a lot of time together."

"No, right, of course." Meian fakes a smile, running a hand through his slicked back hair. "I guess we're all still a little shocked that you'd want to be with someone like Miya in the first place, considering what a bastard he is and all. Someone like you could easily have anyone you wanted."

"Oi," Atsumu says, but Hinata only laughs, like he's telling a really funny joke.

"Why would I ever want anyone else?" Then he brightens, as if remembering something. "Oh, oh! Omi-san and I are grilling some barbeque tonight! I'm gonna try and teach Atsumu-san not to be afraid of hot surfaces, though I'm not very optimistic about it. He's just super cute when he flinches away from fire like it's gonna chase after him." His grin is so wide and fond that Atsumu can't even be mad at the insult. "You guys can come over and help us eat it all, if you want!"

Barnes clears his throat, so tall that it's very noticeable when he nervously shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Us, saying no to free meat? Never."

He beams. "Awesome! I'll let Omi-san know."

"Oi, lovebirds!" one of their other teammates calls from across the gym. "We're going to start spiking drills. You in?"

Hinata's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas, and Atsumu laughs, towel loosening, knowing when to accept defeat. Still, Hinata rises up to give Atsumu a quick peck on the cheek then ducks out from under his hold, yelling something too excitable to be coherent as he bounces across the glossy wood floors, more puppy than human.

Atsumu watches him for a moment then slings the towel back around his own neck so he can grab his water bottle, hoping to hydrate a bit more before he joins them. Even with Hinata on the team, he rarely spikes in actual games, but he likes to stay sharp anyway. Just in case.

The others around them also head over to the net, but Inunaki lingers.

"You… seem to be enjoying it," Inunaki says, carefully. "Dating him."

Atsumu's spine stills, and when he focuses his gaze to the side, it's far icier than intended, a bit of his usually masked poison slipping out without temperament. "What, this is only fun for you if I'm not having fun, too? Ruining your joke by not having a terrible time?"

Inunaki frowns. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Atsumu does. He also knows he's being unfair. Inunaki's a little shit, but he does care about them, even if his penchant for chaos might stir things up above normal discomfort sometimes. It's one of the reasons they clash so often, because Atsumu, when he stops pretending, is very much the same.

"It's just…" Inunaki tenses. "I thought we told you to be a terrible boyfriend and get him to break up with you. Not…"

"No, you told me to be myself and that would be enough to drive him away on its own," Atsumu scoffs, and Inunaki flinches, his grip tightening over his own drink.

"I know alcohol's no excuse for being an asshole and we tease you way more than we do anyone else—it's just so easy, since you react the way you do—but we didn't mean to—" The water bottle makes a whining noise of protest and Inunaki quickly loosens his hold. "It was one thing," he says, "when we thought it was just an innocent crush, but it's… He likes you. He really likes you, and that's…" He swallows. "We don't want either of you to get hurt."

"You mean Shouyou-kun."

"You, too, Miya. But it's different, for him, because you know what you're doing and he—" Inunaki clenches his jaw. "He thinks this is real, and that's fucking scary."

"Hey, you're the one who told me to do this in the first place. You don't have the right to feel uncomfortable when I'm just doing what you said."

"Don't you think I know that?" Inunaki glares. "Just—be careful, alright? That's all I'm saying."

Atsumu pops the top of his bottle, but he's too tense to take a sip right now without choking, and it makes him irrationally resentful that his good mood was wiped away so easily. "It's just another week. Then I break up with him, and everything will be fine."

"That only leaves about three and a half weeks before our first game." Inunaki's face is pinched. "Do you think that's enough time? For it not to have an impact on how he plays?"

The idea that this will affect their volleyball makes something terrible twist in Atsumu's gut, and he's quick to contort his expression into something less honest, even if the venom is far more biting. "How the hell should I know? This was your stupid plan. I'm just following it."

*

"You say that like Russia would accept you," Sakusa is saying, noodles twisting around his chopsticks, terrible posture hunched over the sleek chabudai in the middle of their living room. Seated across the table from him is Hinata, who always looks so amused whenever Sakusa is insulting him, and Atsumu, who claims the cushion to Hinata's right, leaning back with one hand extended behind him, supporting his weight as he angles close to his supposed boyfriend, their shoulders brushing. "You're way too happy. They're a cold country. That's like lighting a fucking fire in their home for no reason at all."

Hinata tries and fails to hide a smile around his tea. "I don't think Russia judges its volleyball players on how optimistic they are."

"How would you know? Did you ask them?"

"Lev is very tall! But nice! We're really good friends!"

Sakusa makes that face exclusive to people he finds remarkably stupid and only wears when he thinks the words coming out of their mouths are extra absurd.

Atsumu takes pity on him, nudging Hinata with his shoulder and a similarly muted smile on his face. "I don't think someone who was born and raised in Japan and doesn't even speak any Russian is a good representation of how the country would respond, Shouyou-kun. And anyway, why is Russia in your top three places to play volleyball? Why not someplace cooler, like Italy or Spain?"

"Of course you would choose Italy," Sakusa snorts. "You would fit right in there. Supposedly, everyone's an asshole."

"Omi-san!" Hinata chastises. "That's stereotyping. Don't be rude."

Atsumu grins. "It's adorable that you think Omi-kun cares about how he's perceived by other human beings."

"Why restrict it to human beings?" Sakusa says. "That just excludes you."

"Hey!"

"Would you ever consider moving to Italy for volleyball, Atsumu-san?" Hinata, despite continuously revealing himself to be far cheekier than Atsumu expected from him more and more every day, is surprisingly good at steering Atsumu and Sakusa away from actual arguments, like training wheels or bowling bumpers that allow them control yet somehow manage to keep them on the safe track.

At first, Atsumu was a little miffed when he realized how proficient Hinata is at handling him—he does not like to be handled—but Hinata does it so innocently it's almost impossible to be mad. "I'm fine where I am. Besides, moving to Italy means I'd be in the same league as Tobio-kun again, and I already dodged that bullet once. Why would I chase after it?"

Sakusa raises a brow. "Scared to be outshone again?"

Atsumu sniffs haughtily. "More like I'm being nice by giving him a chance to have his turn in the spotlight without me overshadowing him. We took the championship title from him during his last year in the league and I reclaimed my rightful place as the best server. I win."

"I still think he's the better setter," Sakusa says, and Atsumu's expression drops into a scowl.

"Why would you say that to me? Do you want me to throw soup in your face?"

"I think you're amazing, Atsumu-san!" Hinata says. "You'd take any international league by storm, if that was something you wanted. They'd be so lucky to have you!"

Atsumu's spine stiffens, but he's careful to curate that tension into the kind of expression the team always wants to slap him for. Fake dating Hinata seems to have that effect on him, reminding him of the days when he was seventeen and said things specifically with the intent of riling people up, just because he could. Because he had nothing better to do. Because it was the only way he knew how to interact with others off the court without being made fun of himself.

Because it kept him safe.

That changed a lot after he graduated high school and his new teammates, all bigger and older than him, were less inclined to take his shit standing up. It was too easy for him to fall back into the role of someone they could pick on, and he hated every second of it but it was a black hole he could never drag himself out of.

Then Hinata joined the team, and he laughs at Atsumu's jokes, and he listens to everything Atsumu says, and he's always so happy to play with him, like spiking Atsumu's sets is his favorite thing in the world, and it's… different. It's what he wanted when he first saw Hinata in high school and was irrationally jealous that someone like Kageyama, who was just as socially inept as Atsumu was, just as selfish, found someone who glowed that bright just because he was able to play with him, despite everything else.

Hinata is that security blanket Atsumu never realized he's been craving ever since his brother quit volleyball—maybe even before then—but instead of relaxing and enjoying the sense of comfort Hinata brings that Atsumu has never felt with anyone else, he feels even more defensive. Sharper. Prone to acerbic smiles and unkind words.

Because he knows this safe feeling that warms his chest is only something he's bound to lose.

Plastering on his biggest, ugliest smile, Atsumu teases, "You that eager to get rid of me, Shou-kun? Or wait—is that your way of telling me that you're ready to move on from Japan yourself and jump ship to another country? Are we breaking up?"

The look of pure devastation on Hinata's face is enough for him to instantly regret it, and underneath the table, Sakusa digs his heel into Atsumu's foot, a guard dog snarl without making a sound.

"O-of course not! I—that's not what I was trying to—I don't—" Hinata practically trips over his words, his face twisted with the kind of anxiety Atsumu knows he's usually careful not to let other people see, and if Atsumu didn't feel like an asshole before, he definitely does now.

"Hey, stop, I was just kidding," Atsumu says, softer than he even thought was possible for him. He places a gentle hand at Hinata's cheek, fingers curling behind his neck, and his stomach twists rottenly at the way Hinata's bottom lip trembles, even with how hard he's trying to hide it.

He forgot how easy it was, to make someone cry. It's something he hasn't done in a while, not on purpose, not since high school.

He didn't realize how much he would fucking hate it when it's Hinata. That's such a dangerous thought to have, with everything he's done.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm not crying," Hinata sniffles, quickly wiping at his face. He's right. His eyes are a little glassy, but his cheeks are dry, though tinged slightly with pink. Stronger than anyone gives him credit for, Atsumu thinks. Even him. "And I'm not—I'm not going anywhere, okay? I mean, I know I'd like to go back to Brazil someday and compete in the indoor league instead of on the beach, but right now I'm really happy where I am. With the team that I have. I want to take us to consecutive championships!"

"Doesn't hurt to have a really hot setter, right?" Atsumu jokes.

Hinata laughs, nerves instantly dispelling in favor of that sunshine radiance he's so known for, and he smiles up at him, nuzzling his cheek into Atsumu's palm. "It's not so bad," he agrees.

"Barf," Sakusa mutters. "Please refrain from being mushy at the dinner table. It's nauseating."

Atsumu releases Hinata under the guise of turning to make a face at Sakusa, hiding his shaking hand against his thigh. "You don't have a romantic bone in your body."

"You say that like it's a curse and not a blessing."

The weighted atmosphere lifts throughout the rest of dinner, easing slowly over the course of a few somewhat heated volleyball debates and a lot of poking fun at the fact that Sakusa always manages to finish his food last despite being the one who typically speaks the least.

But Atsumu feels that knot of tension accumulate at the base of his spine, curling so tight it feels almost crippling to sit here with the two people on his team he genuinely considers his friends. Two of the only few people who don't know what a fucking bastard he is regarding this goddamn farce he never should've agreed to.

Because he knows what day it is. Tomorrow, it'll be a month since they started fake dating. He's had to deal with Inunaki and Meian's strained stares all week, Thomas's bitten lips and Barnes's open concern, so blatant that Atsumu almost whipped around and hissed at them to stop being so obvious, because were they trying to clue Hinata in? What the fuck was the point of pretending this long if not to protect him from the fact that all of this had been because of a dare?

But even then, there's no way Atsumu would forget. Not when it's been the looming brick wall he's been speeding towards for weeks.

Tomorrow, he's supposed to end this ruse. To break Hinata's heart.

They're in the middle of a discussion about this season's recruits and how the Adlers are significantly less of a threat this year without Kageyama and Ushijima but that six-foot-eight power spiker they acquired from Serbia will not be fun to play against, when Atsumu's phone starts ringing in his pocket, the patented trills annoying enough that they all make a face.

"If that's anyone on the team, tell them they're banned from the house," Sakusa says immediately. "I'm still finding fucking chicken bits all over the floor from last week. I've cleaned the whole place thrice. I don't understand where they're coming from."

"Aw, you love having everyone over!" Hinata says.

"In what universe is my face ever welcoming for company?"

Atsumu checks the display and frowns. "It's an unknown caller." He glances hesitantly at Hinata. "I should—"

Hinata widens his eyes. "No, of course! You can answer it here or in my bedroom if you want. We don't mind!"

Leaving the room to answer the call would probably be more polite, but he's never been one for social pleasantries and he's way too comfortable right now to consider getting up, so he brings the phone to his ear and clicks the green icon. "Hello?"

"Hi," replies an unfamiliar voice, clear and female. "Is this Miya Atsumu speaking?"

"Depends who's asking." Hinata elbows him in the side and Atsumu grimaces, quickly amending, "I mean, yes, it is, may I ask who I'm speaking to?"

Hinata holds up seven fingers with a grin, and Atsumu mock-scowls at him, mostly amused, though also slightly offended. He was perfectly polite, damn it. He deserves way better than a seven out of ten. "This is Nurse Makihara from Sayou Kyouritsu Hospital. I believe you were listed as the emergency contact for your grandmother, Miya Yumi-san?"

All the blood drains from his face.

Hinata and Sakusa instantly notice the change, Hinata grabbing his free hand with his and Sakusa sitting straight up for maybe the only time since Atsumu's known him, dark eyes watchful and intense.

"Atsumu-san?" Hinata mouths, but Atsumu can't answer, can't even breathe, can barely listen to this stranger in his ear asking hello, is he still there, is there anyone else they can call if this isn't something he can handle—because no. This isn't something he can handle. Not now, not again.

He's still out of it when he feels Hinata's hand squeeze his, warm and small and reassuring, and Atsumu's vision focuses just enough to see that Hinata is holding his other hand out towards him, his expression so gentle that Atsumu wants to cry.

"Let me," Hinata says softly.

Wordlessly, Atsumu hands the phone over and watches Hinata take over.

"Hello? I'm sorry, Atsumu-san had to step away for a moment. This is his teammate, Hinata Shouyou. Is it okay if you talk with me instead?" Hinata listens for a moment, and Atsumu can tell when they must tell him what's going on, because his eyes, already locked with Atsumu's, go crystal clear with understanding, and he tightens his hand.

But unlike Atsumu, he doesn't fold. Unlike Atsumu, his spine gets stronger, and he makes that clear with every determined line of his face, leaving Atsumu no other choice than to believe he can take care of this.

"Of course," Hinata says to whatever the nurse said on the other end. "Thank you so much for calling. May I ask—?" He pauses, the other person anticipating what he was going to say, and his shoulders relax at whatever she tells him. "Your grandmother's okay," Hinata mouths at him, and Atsumu exhales the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, squeezing Hinata's hand so tight he knows it must hurt.

Hinata doesn't complain.

"Yes, of course. We're in Osaka, so it might take a couple hours, but we'll be there tonight. Which hospital was that again?" Hinata widens his eyes across the table at Sakusa, who instantly scrambles to grab a pen and paper from the side table next to the sofa against the wall so Hinata can jot down what she's saying. "Sa-you Kyou-rit-su," he sounds out as he writes. Then he nods his head as he scribbles a few more things only to hurriedly give a verbal confirmation when he remembers the nurse can't see him, and the sheer adorableness of the action, how purely Hinata it is, for him to do that, even now, in a circumstance like this, is what finally eases the crippling knot that's formed in Atsumu's chest, allowing him to exhale again, deeper this time, shuddering and wet.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against Hinata's shoulder, and Hinata drops the pen to slide his fingers against the back of Atsumu's neck, curling gently in the sheared hairs there, as he asks a few more questions Atsumu doesn't hear.

When Hinata finally ends the call, Atsumu realizes his grip has turned almost punishing, the tips of Hinata's fingers changing color with exertion, and Atsumu releases him with a jolt, guilty, feeling pathetic for being so weak. "I'm—sorry," he says, voice thick as he sits back. "I didn't—"

"Hey." Hinata curls his other hand behind his neck, too, not letting Atsumu pull away too far. His eyes are warm, molten amber. Steady and protective, without a hint of pity or judgement. "You have nothing to apologize for. Okay? Your grandmother is alright; that's all that matters."

"What—" Atsumu swallows, throat like sandpaper. "What happened?"

"They said she had a fall down the stairs while she was carrying a few things. She was conscious when she was brought in, but they had to perform emergency surgery on her hip—which she passed through with flying colors," Hinata adds quickly when Atsumu inhales a sharp breath. "They said there shouldn't be any issues, but you might want to visit her when she wakes up. She'll need someone to care for her for a while—and someone to make sure she doesn't overexert herself, because apparently that's something she's known for."

Atsumu chokes on a laugh. "That sounds like Gran. She's a menace."

"She's a Miya; she'd have to be." Hinata brushes Atsumu's hair back, a tender look on his face. "You okay to wait here for a bit? I want to call Osamu-san right away, and then I'll quickly pack a bag before we pick up some clothes from your house, too."

"Bag?" Atsumu echoes dumbly.

Hinata fixes him with a look. "Of course, silly. I'm not gonna let either of you drive like this, and I doubt there are any night trains going to Hyougo right now." He hesitates. "Unless you don't want me to come?"

Atsumu flinches, one hand instinctively reaching up to catch Hinata's wrist. "No," he croaks. "Please. I—want you with me."

Hinata relaxes. "Then I'll be there," he says firmly.

"I'll handle the coaches," Sakusa says, and Atsumu startles, having completely forgotten that he was in the room. "Let them know you'll both be gone a few days. Miya will probably have a little more leniency, but Hinata, you have to know they won't consider this an emergency family leave for you. They won't be happy if you're gone more than a couple days."

Hinata shoots him a look, but Sakusa only glares back, unwilling to sugarcoat it. Hinata folds first, exhaling a sigh. "I'll deal with it as it comes." He speaks in a way that leaves no room for argument, then leans forward to press a quick kiss to Atsumu's forehead. "Wait here, okay?" Then he grabs his own phone, already scrolling through as he heads down the hall, light footsteps sounding slightly through the house as he rushes up the stairs.

Sakusa rolls his eyes but doesn't comment as he begins gathering up the dirty dishes on the table for him to wash. It was supposed to be Atsumu's turn to clean up tonight; Sakusa put him on the schedule after he started coming around so often. And yet Sakusa takes over without a word. It's surprisingly benevolent of him.

Atsumu doesn't expect anything else from him—Sakusa isn't a comforting kind of guy; it's one of the few things Atsumu respects about him—so it comes as an utter surprise when Sakusa hesitates as he rises from the ground, several stacked bowls balanced perfectly in his grip.

"Your grandmother raised you, right?"

Atsumu meets his gaze. There's no pity there either. "Yeah," he says. He says nothing else.

He doesn't need to. Sakusa nods once, understanding. Then he carries the dishes away.

*

As it turns out, Atsumu doesn't have to handle anything. Hinata takes care of it all.

He makes all necessary calls, checks ahead with traffic, and drives first to Atsumu's house to help him pack an overnight bag with enough clothes to last a week, even though they're in the middle of training and there's no way he can realistically be away that long, before picking Osamu up in the Hirano ward on the way out of town.

None of them are very talkative on the road, and that's fine by Atsumu. It gives him more time to panic, to think. As a setter, it's only natural that he doesn't like it when things spiral out of his control. Even when he was a kid, it's something he struggled with: how to be a part of group projects without dictating everything everyone else did; how to be a part of a team at all without being fiercely critical if things didn't rise up to his impossible standards.

He's stubborn; pigheaded. Completely unyielding to anyone else's faults.

So why is it so fucking easy to hand the reins over to Hinata when their relationship isn't even real?

By the time they make it to Sayou, their home district buried in the mountains of Hyougo, it's nearing midnight, which is to be expected, with the careful way that Hinata drives.

Logically, Atsumu knows that he or Osamu are better equipped to be behind the wheel. They've made this trip dozens of times before over the past several years and are far more familiar with the streets and rural areas, but even more than that, they have far more experience driving in general, having gotten their licenses as soon as they turned eighteen while Hinata only learned to drive last year, when he first joined the Jackals. Before then, he'd only ever taken his bike or the bus.

Even now, Hinata barely operates a car. He carpools with Sakusa to practice every day and rides his bike literally everywhere else. If Atsumu were paying attention, he might notice the way Hinata avoids it for a reason.

And yet still, he drives into another prefecture without complaint. And still, neither Atsumu nor Osamu offer to take over for him.

Kyouritsu Hospital is an old building both Miya twins are familiar with, being the closest hospital to where they grew up near Kouzuki Station, less than ten minutes away from their grandmother's home. The familiar blue kanji blocks sticking up from the roof leave Atsumu crippled with a sense of nostalgia mixed with the slow churning of guilt he is becoming very well acquainted with.

When was the last time he visited? He used to return all the time, back when he was a rookie; homesick so often his grandmother made fun of him for being such a baby that he needed to cling to an old hag just to make it through each day.

But over the past year and a half, as he's grown more comfortable with his place on the team, with Hinata and Sakusa, with the snarky persona he plays up whenever he's drinking with the others, his trips home have grown less frequent. It's gotten to the point where he even spent the entirety of his off-season this year in Osaka, citing excuses he can't even remember now as to why he couldn't go back to Sayou for so much as a week.

He's a terrible fucking grandson. From the expression on Osamu's face, it's clear his brother is having similar sentiments.

They park quickly; quietly. Make their way inside without so much as a peep. His fake relationship has so many rules and in this moment Atsumu hates all of them, but still Hinata surprises him, taking the time to brush his fingers gently across the back of Atsumu's hand, a wordless, I'm here. I've got you. You're not alone.

Atsumu wants to kiss him so badly and he doesn't even care who would see.

After Hinata speaks quietly with a nurse, they find his grandmother's room without any hassle. No one bugs them for being here after visiting hours. Atsumu isn't sure if it's because Hinata has done all the talking or because a few of the doctors must recognize them, either from Hinata and Atsumu's volleyball careers or the fact that Atsumu and Osamu had been frequent fliers when they were children. Whatever the reason, he's grateful. This is hard enough as it is.

Atsumu fucking hates hospitals.

But the biggest shock is what he sees when they enter his grandmother's room.

"Good god, boys, why so glum? You're acting like someone died!"

She's lying up in her uncomfortable-as-fuck bed, an opaque paper cup in one hand, grinning at the three stunned boys in her doorway like this is just a normal day and she didn't just go through a major surgery. Her skin's a lot paler than usual and she definitely seems tired despite her smile, but otherwise, she looks exactly like Atsumu remembered. His smack-talking, no shit-taking grandmother.

"C'mon now, is that really the kind of greeting you're gonna give your old hag after not visiting for months? I'm certain I raised you better than that."

That snaps them out of it. "Gran!"

Atsumu and Osamu instantly flank her sides, hands fluttering about to make sure her blanket's soft enough, her pillows fluffed enough, and should she even be sitting up like this so soon after surgery? Where the hell's the doctor now?

She laughs out loud. "You two are just as annoying as I remember. You'd think a little time and independence would help you grow, but apparently not." She peers around them curiously. "And who's that cutie? One of yours or are you both still virgins?"

"Gran!"

"H-hi!" Hinata squeaks, looking simultaneously embarrassed by her words and awed by her overall presence. A common reaction when it comes to the woman who raised them. "I'm Hinata Shouyou! I play volleyball on the same team as Atsumu-san. It's very nice to meet you, Miya-obaasan!"

"Oh dear, please, none of that. Just call me Yumi."

"Yumi-obaasan!"

His grandmother bites back a smile. "We'll have to work on that, but I do like your enthusiasm. Tell me, Shouyou, which one of my grandsons are you dating? Is it Atsumu? If so, what kind of horrid bet did you lose to have to put up with him?"

"Oh my god," Atsumu says. "Gran, please. You just had surgery. There are better things for you to worry about than my sex life."

"Anyway, he's still a virgin," Osamu adds, "even though he and Shouyou-kun have been dating for a month now. I know because he hasn't come knocking down my door freaking out about it yet. It's a milestone I am personally not looking forward to."

"'Samu!"

"I'm not the least bit surprised," his grandmother sighs. "He was always a little slow on the uptake."

"He does his best though. Usually."

"That's all we can hope for," she agrees.

Atsumu wants to bury his face in his hands. "And after all that worrying I did over you," he hisses. "Traitors, both of you!"

His grandmother grins. "It's your own fault. You boys should know by now that I'm gonna live until I'm a hundred and three. There isn't any getting rid of me before then." She pats the edge of her bed. "Now are you going to give me your dumb excuses for not visiting in person or am I going to have to joke about falling down the stairs to get your attention first?"

The visit passes by quickly, and loud, as it always is with her. Twice, a nurse had to come by to tell them to keep it down a little, but they're never asked to leave, and for that, Atsumu is thankful.

"My successful grandsons are footing my extravagant bill," she says airily. "Of course they're giving me the grand treatment. They better, for what you're paying them."

"Gran, insurance covers everything."

She waves her hand. "Point still stands."

Atsumu's not sure how long they get relentlessly teased by his grandmother, but despite her demeanor, even she isn't invincible, and eventually her eyes start to droop to the point where they're able to convince her to get some rest.

"Only because I want to, not because I'm old and tired," she says stubbornly, and Osamu sighs heavily with a placating, "Yes, Grandmother," that earns him a harsh pinch on the side which Atsumu snickers at.

"You brought your keys to the house, yes?" Only when they nod and chorus their assent does she lean back in her elevated bed, nodding gravely. "Good. Go on then. Take your boyfriend back to the house to rest. Poor thing looks exhausted."

Atsumu turns, expression going whisper-soft when he sees the sleeping boy in the chair next to the bed. Hinata pulled it up to sit on after Atsumu and Osamu took places on her mattress, wide-eyed and horrified at the thought of encroaching on her space like that while she was recovering, and though he tried his best to keep up with their ridiculous banter at first, he eventually started to nod off, so adorable that none of them had the heart to wake him.

It's not a surprise. Hinata's a morning person through and through, going to bed by eleven every night without fail and waking easily with the sun, no alarms necessary. This is far later than he's ever stayed up since Atsumu has known him, and on top of that, he drove two hours straight, having to sit stiff and still in a way that's usually so difficult for him, behind the wheel of a car he barely uses in the city, let alone to a prefecture he's never been.

Atsumu feels guilty, making him do all this when his grandmother is clearly okay, but at the same time, he can't imagine coming all this way without him. He can't even imagine going back to his grandmother's house without him right now, which is terrifying, because he's never even been there before, so it shouldn't matter.

"He's very sweet," she says softly, and Atsumu forces his attention to return to her, realizing he's probably been staring at Hinata too long. "I can understand why you'd care for him. He seems like a good kid."

A quick dusting of pink flushes across Atsumu's cheeks. "It's not—it's not like that," he says. "I mean—we've barely been together. It's not serious."

His grandmother smiles knowingly. "Mmhm. I'm sure." Then she waves at his arm. "Now get out of here; it's late, and you're all dead on your feet. You can come back tomorrow—but only if you bring something moderately more edible for me to eat. Hospital food is crap."

"You're only supposed to have liquids tomorrow," Atsumu says, exasperated.

"Then Osamu can make me soup," she says without hesitation. "What, don't tell me running that fancy restaurant in Osaka has rendered him incapable of making anything without rice?"

Osamu squeezes her hand. "I'll be happy to, Gran."

"That's my boy. This is why you're my favorite."

Atsumu scowls, hating that long-running joke, and she pats him cheerfully on the cheek.

Hinata is so out of it when they wake him that he doesn't even protest when Osamu steals the car keys and Atsumu guides him into the backseat before climbing in with him. He starts to stir a little more on the drive, only blinking into awareness when they park in front of his grandmother's home, still curled into Atsumu's side.

"Atsumu-san?" he mumbles.

Feeling such an unbearable fondness burning hot in his chest, Atsumu brushes his fingers through Hinata's hair and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "We're here," he murmurs. "You okay to walk or do you want me to carry you?"

Hinata blinks for a moment like the question doesn't even register, but then he blushes a little, expression clearing as he mumbles, "I-I can walk."

Atsumu and Osamu's old room is just as they left it, still with its juvenile bunk bed they used to argue over as kids and desks propped with old school books they'll probably never touch again but can't bring themselves to throw away.

They all get ready for bed quietly and efficiently. Brushing his teeth seems to clear Hinata's head the way the walk didn't, so by the time he and Atsumu are back in the bedroom, he's actually coherent, eyes finally unclouded as he surveys the space, though his shoulders are still tired.

"It's nice," Hinata says quietly. He's sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk, blinking up at Atsumu with a strangely indecipherable look on his face. "The town. Your bedroom. Your grandmother. She's… not what I expected."

Atsumu snorts. "Gran's a ballbuster and any craziness 'Samu and I inherited was definitely from her. There's a reason we grew up without manners or any sort of verbal filter. A terrible mix of nature and nurture, I'd say." He nudges Hinata a little as he climbs onto the bed, and Hinata, seemingly without thinking, immediately curls up against him, arm strewn over Atsumu's chest and head tucked against his shoulder.

It's gently intimate in a way they haven't been yet, when the most they've done until now have been holding hands and light brushes of the lips, but even more than that, it's the kind of cuddling that comes with years of practice, of being comfortable with each other, and yet it comes so naturally here, in this moment, despite all the other things in the back of Atsumu's mind that tells him this isn't a good idea.

He doesn't listen. All he cares about is how warm and soft Hinata is against his side, how he feels so perfect curled into him like this, sleepy and sweet. Everything else can wait until morning.

He must be a lot more tired than he thought.

"I'm surprised she's… okay with the idea of us. Two boys, I mean." Hinata's breath is warm against his neck, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste they both used in the bathroom. "I'm not close with my mom's parents, but they're very vocal about not thinking it's right. Acceptance for this kind of thing is less common with their generation, I think, because of the way they were raised."

"Gran has never cared about what's socially acceptable or old-fashioned. She just wants us to be happy. It helps," Atsumu says, fingers trailing absently up and down Hinata's spine, "that 'Samu came out first, when we were young. He was in love with Kita-san and didn't know, then, that it wasn't as common, to fall for another guy. I think Gran was surprised at first, but she quickly adjusted her mindset to make him feel good about it instead of strange. It was important to her that we didn't keep things from her that normal grandsons traditionally would."

"Yeah, it's definitely not typical for boys to discuss their sex lives with their grandparents." Atsumu feels the slight curve of Hinata's smile against his skin, and it makes him warm and soft all over.

"Normal is one thing we've definitely never been," Atsumu agrees. "Now shush. Go to sleep. You're exhausted."

"'M fine," Hinata slurs. "And I have another question."

Atsumu is torn between smiling and rolling his eyes. Stubborn brat. He fits right in. "Fine. Just one."

"Inarizaki… It's not here in Sayou, is it."

Ah. So even as tired as he is, Hinata still managed to take in his surroundings. Noticed the mountains, the trees, the slow rivers and wide streets. This is not the kind of town that hosts a nationally ranked volleyball team. "No," Atsumu admits. "Both Yako Middle and Inarizaki High are in Himeji. There's a local school here, but they don't have any competitive sports teams, so we had to take a train out to the city every morning instead to be able to play the way we wanted. It was important to us, even then."

"Himeji… like the castle?" Hinata's breaths still, just momentarily. "But… that's far, isn't it? We passed it on the way here."

"About an hour and a half on the regular train, but only fifty minutes by express. So not that bad."

Hinata's breath hitches, fingers curling slightly on Atsumu's chest. For a moment, Atsumu wonders what's so shocking about that—no one's ever cared about his commute before—but then Hinata exhales, relaxing back into a sweet pile of mush, cuddling closer into Atsumu, his leg hiking up slightly at Atsumu's waist. "You're really, really amazing, Atsumu-san. You know that, right?"

Atsumu stills. "Shouyou-kun?" He angles his head a little, trying to catch a glimpse of Hinata's expression, but Hinata's completely passed out now, breaths long and even, his small body like a soft pillow against his side.

Osamu walks into the room then, dressed in loose pajamas with his dark hair more disheveled than Atsumu has gotten used to seeing it. He watches Atsumu and Hinata carefully. His expression is unreadable. "Do you want me to pull out a futon for him?"

Atsumu cradles the back of Hinata's head protectively with one hand, holding him close. "Nah, it's fine. He can sleep on my bunk with me."

*

The next couple days pass in a breeze, and Atsumu is struck, once again, by how effortless Hinata fits into his life, even away from the team.

He goes to the market with Osamu; he finds their grandmother wonderful instead of weird. And when he curls up in Atsumu's arms at the end of the night, without even bothering with the pretense of pulling out a futon, it's almost agonizing how perfect it all is. Being here, in his hometown, in this sense of completeness, with him.

"Our district is known for its sunflowers," Atsumu finds himself saying, the words spilling out without any prompting, any reason, all because some deep, dark part of him is desperate for Hinata to love it here as much as he does. "They may not be famous like the ones in Hokkaido and even Yamanashi, but they're bright and gorgeous and draw in all sorts of people who are smart enough to know about them."

Hinata's whole body lights up. "Yeah?" he says hopefully.

Atsumu wants to kiss him. "Yeah," he says, voice pitifully hoarse. He clears his throat. "In the spring and summer, we even get our fair share of tourists, especially during festival season. They all go crazy for our sunflower ice cream."

"Sunflower ice cream?!"

Atsumu can't help but laugh. "Yeah, Aka-san makes all sorts of flavors, like purple sweet potato and watermelon, all from scratch. Grinds up the sunflower seeds herself, too. It's a huge hit."

The look on Hinata's face so closely resembles an excited puppy that Atsumu has to clench his fists in his pockets to keep from running his hands through Hinata's hair. "Do you think maybe we could come visit after the season's over? So I can see it all myself?"

At that, Atsumu feels something terrible twist low in his gut, and he has to force a smile onto his face to keep the awful guilt and cowardice from shining through. "Yeah," he says, knowing that by springtime, they'll no longer be together and he'll have to live with the fact that it's all his fault. "That'd be nice."

Hinata balances along the ledge as they walk alongside the river, something Atsumu doesn't stop him for only because he knows Hinata has the best sense of equilibrium of anyone he knows. The weather's a little chilly for the beginning of October, but still warm enough that Hinata, with his absurdly impenetrable temperature regulation, doesn't feel the need to wear more than a light sweater.

He looks so content like this, cruising lightly through the town without a care in the world, arms set out slightly for balance, expression so lovely and serene that Atsumu's chest physically aches. He smiles at everything and waves happily at any stranger passing by, and as they near the end of the line where they have to turn in to head back to the house, Atsumu doesn't even have to say anything. Hinata simply hops off the ledge and follows easily at Atsumu's side, already so attuned to him in this tiny town he'd never set foot in before now.

"I forgot how much I missed the country," Hinata admits. "Osaka's nice, and where we live isn't as busy as some areas are, but it's not the same, y'know? The mountains, the trees. I miss it a lot."

Yes. Atsumu understands. This is his home, and he's so scared by how much more it feels that way with Hinata in it.

On the third day, Hinata and Atsumu are set to drive back to Osaka while Osamu stays here for the week to help their grandmother get settled in at home. After she transitions with a full-time caretaker to help with her recovery, Osamu plans to take a train back to the city, where they'll pick him up from the station.

Osamu goes to the market alone this time to pick up fresh groceries to stock the house while he can, so that leaves Hinata and Atsumu to visit her for the last time, keeping her company before they have to go.

"It was so nice meeting you," Hinata gushes. "I wish we didn't have to return to Osaka so soon. At least for another few days, to help when you get out of the hospital!"

Atsumu's grandmother chuckles, one fair hand resting on Hinata's head. "Don't worry, darling, I remember what it's like to have professional responsibilities. This is what twins are for. I promise I'll run Osamu ragged until he's good and sick of me." She looks pleased when Hinata laughs like she's the funniest person on earth, similarly enamored by how receptively happy he is the way Atsumu always feels. It's a goddamn superpower of his. "Speaking of…" She flicks her gaze towards Atsumu. "Be a good grandson and get me a cup of ice chips, would you? I would get them myself, but I can barely make it ten feet out the door."

Atsumu rolls his eyes. "Yes, Gran."

"And they better not be the pathetic little shavings at the bottom of the bin. Big chunks, kid! I may be old but I've still got my teeth!"

Unfortunately, Atsumu is a much less proficient errand boy than Hinata and Osamu have been because his quest for ice chips goes horribly wrong. First, the bin down the hall is broken, and then he gets lost trying to find one that actually works and has chunks that are up to his grandmother's standard.

Even worse, he gets stopped by a few people who recognize him on his way back. While he's normally pretty short with fans, it feels wrong, somehow, to be rude to them here, in his hometown, in the hospital that's taken care of his grandmother, with the boy who's starting to burrow so deep in his chest he doesn't know which way is up.

Trying to be a nice person takes too much time and effort. When he's left with nothing but cheeks that hurt from faking a smile and a soaking paper cup of water that used to be ice, he vows never to do it again.

By the time he makes it back up to his grandmother's room, he's huffy and irritable and ready to be a big baby about it so Hinata can soothe him like the brat that he is. But just as he's about to enter, he hears her speak.

"—wanted to believe that," she murmurs. "But this is a small town, and reputations matter. After that, it was hard for them. They never told me, but I knew."

"You did the best that you could," Hinata denies instantly, as earnest and kind as he always is. "You can't control how other people react. That's not on you, Yumi-san."

"Maybe, but I wish I'd gotten them out sooner. If I'd known that it could've been easier for them to go to a school in the city when they were still elementary students, where they could start fresh, away from all the gossip, and not just after middle school... Maybe that would've made things better before they had time to change."

"They're perfect the way they are," Hinata replies, without a hint of doubt in his voice, and Atsumu feels his grip tighten around the cold cup in his grasp, knowing, without needing full context, what this is all about. Wanting to put a stop to it but not being able to move.

"You're right about that," his grandmother chuckles, "even if they can be total brats at times. Still… They were so sweet, before. They were the gentlest boys, who had to hold hands everywhere they went and cried whenever they stepped on a bug. But after—after their parents… Things were rough, especially with Atsumu, because he was the oldest and felt responsible for keeping his brother safe. He never got along well with other kids before then, but after…" She exhales. "One day I watched him decide that if they were going to dislike him anyway, it was because he wanted them to. And there was nothing I could do to stop him, because he was just protecting himself, and who was I to tell him that was wrong?"

"Yumi-san…"

"I just wanted to be able to take care of them," she admits quietly, "to keep them from having to harden themselves just to make it in the world. But I… couldn't. And there are a million things I'd do differently now, if I could."

Atsumu wants to throw up. He wants to run away. He's worshipped his grandmother for years, always thinking how fucking lucky he was to have had someone like her growing up, someone who never judged him for being horrible, who always supported his volleyball, even when he was awful, even when it was hard. But never, in any of that time, has he ever heard her sound like this.

He hates it. He doesn't want to be there. He wants to pretend this moment doesn't exist.

But then Hinata says, ever so softly, "I don't think you have to worry. Atsumu-san… He's the kindest person I know, even if he tries to act like he isn't. I—hate it, when people say they're nice and then do so many not nice things. Atsumu-san is the opposite. He'll claim to be an asshole and say all these terrible words, and then he'll buy you lunch when you forget your wallet and tease you about it so you don't feel embarrassed; and he'll practice with you for hours when you can't perfect a certain technique and claim it was for his own benefit, for the win; and he'll walk out of a scary movie with you when you're too frightened to stay in the theater, saying it's because it's boring and he'd rather do anything else, even though you know he's been looking forward to it all year. He's so kind, but he'll never let anyone tell him that he is, and I think that's so special, because he'll never settle for just trying to be good. He won't think it matters unless he truly believes it's something he can be, all the time.

"So he'll be okay," Hinata continues, clear and certain yet so, so tender, "because his heart is still full enough to give, and that makes him amazing, even if he doesn't see it himself. I'm trying, though. To make him see it. I hope one day he'll believe me. I think you should believe it, too."

There's a short, stifled pause where Atsumu's not breathing and he's pretty sure his grandmother's not breathing either, and then she laughs, and it's not like any laugh he's ever heard from her, breathy and filled with something not unlike awe, and she says, "You're not allowed to break up with my grandson, do you hear? Not ever. You'll be so good for him, and he's always needed someone like you."

Hinata laughs, too, the kind that takes Atsumu's breath away, and he answers, "Trust me, Yumi-san. I'm the lucky one here."

*

Atsumu drives back to Osaka.

Hinata tries to insist he can do it, but even Atsumu can tell he's secretly relieved not to have to be behind the wheel, especially since there's bound to be far more traffic on the roads now that it's during the day instead of after dark. Hinata's knees bounce the entire way home, and Atsumu can't even tease him about it because his throat is so tight he can't get a word out.

"Atsumu-san?" Hinata asks, always so attentive to little changes in his mood. "Are you okay?"

No. He's not okay. Not even close.

He drives Hinata and Sakusa's house first, able to pull into their cramped designated parking space since Sakusa's at the team gym, most likely occupied by weight training before afternoon practice. Hinata doesn't say anything when Atsumu follows him inside instead of waiting in the car for him to drop off his bag and grab his workout clothes, but Atsumu can tell he's worried about how stiff Atsumu has been on the drive home.

"We made perfect timing for practice," Hinata is saying as he slips off his shoes and heads towards the stairs to get changed. "We might even be early and Coach can't say anything about it! Do you think—?"

He half-turns to offer a grin up at Atsumu as he speaks, but he cuts off a stunned gasp when Atsumu shoves him against the wall, pressing their bodies close together.

"Atsumu-san—?"

Any words he'd been about to say are cut off when Atsumu covers his mouth with his own.

In all the weeks they've been dating, they've barely kissed, let alone made out. Atsumu's been holding back because he knows this is fake and he has no right taking anything when he isn't really giving anything in return, but he knows that Hinata's hesitance has been because Atsumu is so openly inexperienced, both in anything physical and romantic, and Hinata is more than happy to let him set the pace, following him on this crawl without even the slightest hint of a complaint.

Over the past few days, the cuddling, the sleeping in the same bed… That's all new. Innocent, yet somehow still crossing a line.

This though? This is obliterating the line—and Atsumu doesn't fucking care.

Hinata gasps when Atsumu seals their lips together, and Atsumu doesn't miss that chance, deepening the kiss with unrestrained hunger and greed, using both his hands to cradle Hinata's head and tip it back so he has full access to everything he shouldn't be claiming right now but won't stop anyway. Hinata whimpers, trembling all fucking over, but instead of pushing Atsumu away, he twists his hands in his shirt and tries to get even closer, slanting his lips to accommodate Atsumu's assault with the kind of talent that makes his knees weak.

"You," Atsumu pants. "You're so—" He licks his way into Hinata's mouth, using far too much tongue, he knows, he knows, but— "How the hell can you be like this and expect me not to take you?"

A soft mewling sound escapes Hinata's throat, and he slides his hands even higher, over Atsumu's shoulders, rising up on his toes so they can press together even harder—but it's still not enough.

Atsumu grips Hinata's perfect, perfect thighs and yanks him up against the wall, bringing those gorgeous legs to wrap around his waist. The sound Hinata makes as their bodies finally line up, flush against the other, is downright sinful.

"Wait," Hinata gasps into his mouth. "Wait, we can't—we have practice, and you've never—" Never done this before, not with anyone, not like Hinata has.

The thought makes Atsumu's nails dig deeper into the firm flesh of Hinata's thighs. "I don't want to go to practice," he rumbles. "I want to fuck you."

"Oh." The word leaves Hinata's lips in a rush, barely more than a breath yet still somehow shaky, and Atsumu swallows it down, greedy for everything, needy for so much more.

"Is that okay?" he murmurs.

Hinata swallows. Atsumu can almost hear it, even over the roaring sound of blood pumping violently through his veins. When Hinata speaks, his voice is so beautifully hoarse. "Are you sure?"

No. Atsumu's not sure. There are a million reasons why he shouldn't do this right now—why he can't—and yet all he can think about is Hinata, gorgeous and kind and burning so bright it would almost hurt to look at him if Atsumu weren't such a filthy fucking masochist, sitting in that white room with his grandmother, the one person he looks up to most, and saying all these things about him that no one's ever said, kind things, gentle things—and believing them. Believing in him.

It's too much. He's too much.

No one has ever looked at Atsumu the way Hinata does, and Atsumu has never wanted anything more.

So he says, "Yes," because he's a selfish fucking bastard, because he's cruel, because he doesn't deserve Hinata, not even a little, and if this is all he gets, bits and pieces of him in this awful farce he's fallen into, then he's going to milk it for all its worth.

Hinata shudders so beautifully, so completely, and Atsumu can't wait to get him into bed to see how many other ways he can make him break. "Upstairs," Hinata pleads.

He doesn't have to beg twice.

*

That weekend, Hinata throws Atsumu a joint party for his birthday then gives him a blowjob so mindblowing it makes Atsumu's blood burn with jealousy, because how the hell can he be so fucking good at this and who has he done it with before?

A few days later, he lets Hinata teach him how to return the favor. He's also a little too rough. Hinata doesn't seem to mind. Atsumu can add it to his growing list of self-serving regrets.

By the time the fourteenth rolls around, they've breezed through all their practice games and Atsumu has fully embraced the fact that he's going to hell, but his teammates grow even more jittery with every passing day that he and Hinata come to practice still attached at the hip. Over two weeks after his deadline.

Inunaki is the one who corners him in between drills, which isn't a surprise. Aside from Atsumu, he's the one who must feel the most responsible.

"I'm not breaking up with him," Atsumu says, and even though he's pointedly not looking, from the corner of his eye, he can see Inunaki stiffen.

"You're what."

"I'm not breaking up with him," Atsumu repeats. "The timing is crap. We're in season, and we have our first game in less than two weeks. Do you really want to be the reason we don't make it to the final six because our most versatile player is nursing a broken heart?"

It's an unfair and untrue assessment, and Atsumu has to bite back a wince as he forces the words out of his throat. Because Hinata would never be the kind of athlete who would let his emotions affect the way he plays. He's worked too hard; come so far. If there's one player that Atsumu never has to worry about having a bad day, it's Hinata, and it's not because he's lucky. It's because he's acclimized himself over years of blood, sweat, and tears to be able to bring his best onto the court no matter what the circumstances.

It's one of the things Atsumu admires most about him. One of apparently many.

He doesn't mention the fact that he's fucking Hinata now. They would all have his head.

"So what then? You're just going to continue pretending to date him for the next several months? Are you fucking serious?" Inunaki sounds like he's not sure whether to shake Atsumu by the shoulders or throw him off a cliff.

Atsumu plasters on his most plastic, acerbic smile. "What, you got a better idea? Because I'd love to listen. Take some of my good old senpai's advice."

Inunaki doesn't take the bait. "Miya, what the hell are you doing?"

Atsumu doesn't know.

He tries to pretend he doesn't care.

*

During their first game of the season, the Jackals annihilate VC Kanagawa in three straight sets and no one is surprised.

That night, Sakusa bans Atsumu from sleeping over at their house.

"You have your own apartment, asshole. Use it. I actually tolerate Hinata, but if I have to listen to him cry out your name one more time through our thin fucking walls, that is going to change. Now get the hell off my porch."

"Omi-san means well," Hinata giggles later, when they're tangled up in Atsumu's sheets, warm and sweaty and sated. "He thinks of you as one of his closest friends, otherwise he'd never have let you come over as often as he did!"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking marshmallow, alright," Atsumu snorts.

"It's okay though? That I'll have to stay over here more?" Despite everything, there's still the slightest hint of hesitation in Hinata's voice, like he really thinks this might all be a dream and he'll wake up one day to find that the rug has been pulled out from under him and none of this will have been real.

Atsumu understands. He feels it, too. "You're pretty and you keep my dick warm," he says instead. "I can't complain."

Hinata pouts into Atsumu's neck and curls tighter against him, always wanting to be so close even when Atsumu's an ass. He's grown a lot more affectionate since they started having sex, easily reaching for Atsumu's hand or resting his head against his shoulder when before he used to hesitate, and that should probably scare Atsumu, too.

It doesn't.

The rest of the tournament's first round passes similarly, with nine straight wins, all but three of them taken in straight sets. They're on fire, and it's not just the crowds that feel it. The whole team burns alight with an almost tangible buzz of excitement, and not even the hours of travel every weekend to play in arenas all over the country manage to put a damper in their spirits.

It's fun being the challenger, but damn does it feel good to be the undisputed champions, too.

During his grandmother's recovery, she watches all Atsumu's games and calls him every Monday after, without fail, to gush over Hinata.

"That boy of yours can jump," she whistles. "His stamina is also impressive. A bonus you're enjoying, I'm sure."

"Gran, please!"

"I'm just saying," she laughs. "If you don't marry him, I'll make sure Osamu will."

The Jackals' winning streak is only interrupted by several press functions and fanmeets, an unfortunate downside to being so damn good. It's by far Atsumu's least favorite part about being a professional athlete, even if he smirks like he enjoys it.

He's good at being a jerk; at antagonizing people to get a rise out of them; at poking the bear and laughing when it claws back.

He is not good at getting people to like him, not like Hinata is, and his sense of humor tends to be very niche, even for Kansai, because no one ever gets when he's actually trying to be funny instead of rude. That's just a fuckup of anxiety waiting to happen.

That's why it's so surprising when he doesn't mind it as much this time—though he knows it's entirely because of Hinata.

Their publicists learned very early on that situating Hinata with Sakusa in public appearances always draws in the best ratings because they naturally play so well off each other, what with the whole "tiny ray of sunshine and his big, dark, grumpy beanpole" thing they've got going on. Sakusa's blunt remarks are tempered well with Hinata's bright laughs and good-natured teasing, and the ease they've developed from living together makes their chemistry effortless on camera in ways Sakusa refuses to mesh with anyone else.

The press loves them together, and it's always lowkey pissed Atsumu off, though he never understood why. Jealous that Sakusa somehow managed to become more popular than him, maybe.

This time, their publicists have decided to group all three of them together, and the public reaction is instant.

The fans go nuts.

It's a bewildering phenomenon. All they do is argue. Atsumu and Sakusa are incapable of being in the same room together without trying to one-up the other with barbs, and while that usually doesn't make for safe TV, somehow having Hinata as a sunshine buffer makes everything endearing instead of alarming.

After Atsumu and Sakusa get sucked into another exchange of insults over an innocent question about volleyball, Hinata laughs like an angel and the interviewer looks absolutely blinded in the face of his warmth. "They're always like this," he giggles to her, like they're just two friends having dinner and this isn't a live, televised interview in front of thousands of people. "But I promise, they're the best of friends! Really! Omi-san even lets Atsumu-san stay over at our house, and he would never do that with anyone else. It's always so lively with them both around!"

SakuAtsuHina trends on Twitter for a full twenty-four hours, and Sakusa spends the next week insisting to anyone who will hear him that he would rather lie down in the middle of a busy street than date Miya fucking Atsumu.

Atsumu is just secretly glad he never had a chance to make a fool of himself.

It's just—so easy. Everything with Hinata is always so fucking easy. They win games, they don't fuck up interviews, they eat dinners together, and then Atsumu takes Hinata home with him and tries not to think about how things would be different if he weren't such a selfish dick.

And he tells himself it's for the team, that it's just the logical thing to do, maintaining this farce when he doesn't deserve to, but then Hinata falls asleep on his chest and Atsumu can see the way his eyelashes curl so sweetly against his cheeks, long and dark and so devastatingly lovely, and he thinks there must be nothing logical about this at all.

He doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want to hurt Hinata. He doesn't want to mess everything up.

But even after all this time, he can't find a solution that won't blow his whole world up in his face.

*

"Tsum-Tsum, you're a lot less of a jealous boyfriend than I thought you'd be," Bokuto jokes after they annihilate the Japan Railway Warriors for the second time in the second round, their last match before the holiday break.

Bokuto is one of the few people who hadn't been at the party that night before September, having spent his last free weekend in Tokyo with some of his high school friends instead, so he's also one of the few people on the team that doesn't know about the dare, aside from Sakusa and Hinata himself.

It's probably a good thing. Mostly because Bokuto is too nice to ever be able to keep a secret this terrible, but also because he'd probably twist Atsumu's balls off if he realized Atsumu was leading his disciple on like this.

Atsumu wipes his face with the towel their manager handed to him and gives Bokuto a puzzled look. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Because you never flip out when Hinata talks to his exes!" Bokuto exclaims. "I was expecting to have to hold you back from challenging them to a duel or something, but you aren't even red in the face!"

"What? When the hell has he been talking to his exes?" Stiffening, Atsumu whips his head around to find Hinata, who is currently on the other side of the court, talking animatedly to that ridiculously tall guy with the freaky haircut. "Wait, are you telling me Shouyou-kun used to date Hyakuzawa Yuudai?"

Bokuto hums thoughtfully against his water bottle. "Date might be a strong term? More like they used to fuck a lot. Poor guy's been holding onto a torch for Hinata forever, but before you, Hinata's never been interested in anything serious. Just sex."

"That's…" Atsumu tightens his grip, the towel in his hand the only thing keeping his blunt nails from piercing holes into his palms.

"Oh, shit," Bokuto says, eyes wide when he sees the look on Atsumu's face. "You didn't know. You've never talked about the people he's slept with before?"

No. Of course not. Just the thought of Hinata being with anyone else makes him sick to his stomach. Why the hell would he subject himself to a full conversation about all the men Hinata's let inside him in the past? Atsumu has no right being jealous, but he burns so hot with it anyway.

It was one thing, to know Hinata's been with other people before him. It's another to see him interact with one of those people who has seen him, intimately, in ways Atsumu tries to pretend is unique only to him.

Wound impossibly tight, Atsumu watches as Hyakuzawa reaches out to gently ruffle Hinata's hair, expression fond, and something inside of him snaps.

He's on the other side of the court in an instant, slinging one possessive arm over Hinata's shoulder and interrupting whatever he's been saying in that sweet, excited voice of his, seeming so innocent despite his history.

"Atsumu-san?" Hinata looks a little startled, though he instinctively leans into Atsumu's touch, something that probably shouldn't feel as gratifying as it does.

Blood like poison, Atsumu plasters on a twisted, plastic smile as he turns to look up at the massive fucking goliath who thinks it's okay to put his hands on what's his. "Just here to fetch my cute little boyfriend," he croons, and the sickly sweet tone of his voice makes Hinata stiffen, always hating when Atsumu gets like this. When he's trying to be really cruel instead of just passively heartless. "We've got a final celebratory fanmeet before the break, and I want to get through it as quickly as possible so I can take him home for the real celebration, if you know what I mean."

"Atsumu-san!"

To Hyakuzawa's credit, he doesn't look upset, just wistful, as he gives Hinata something of a sad smile that makes Atsumu irrationally angrier for no reason at all. "I understand. It was really nice to see you again, Shouyou. Until next time?"

Hinata snaps out of his horror to bob his head rapidly in agreement. "O-of course! And we'll beat you again then, too, Yuu-kun! Just you wait!"

Hyakuzawa chuckles. "We'll see about that." He gives Atsumu a nod. "Miya-san. You played a great game."

Atsumu's smile is ugly. "I always do."

Hinata is upset as Atsumu leads him away, something that is woefully obvious even though he doesn't say a word.

Atsumu doesn't care. He's upset, too. The others on their team watch them with various looks of intensity, but Atsumu pays them no mind, leading Hinata out of the gym and down the hall, muscles growing stiffer and stiffer with every step. He doesn't stop until they reach one of the remote bathrooms in the back, where he opens the door to let Hinata walk in first before following after him.

"Atsumu-san—" Hinata starts once they're alone, voice budding with tension.

Atsumu merely flicks the lock shut then shoves Hinata into the wall.

His tongue is in Hinata's mouth before he has a chance to react, and for all that Hinata seems tense, he doesn't hesitate to open up for him, melting instantly into the kiss and searing all of Atsumu's movements with his own. Hinata has always been an amazing kisser, but now that Atsumu knows at least one person he's practiced with before… It makes it hard to breathe, and Atsumu fists his hand in Hinata's jersey the way his lungs feel so twisted in his chest.

"Wait," Hinata gasps, even though he clings to Atsumu's shoulders as he lifts him up to prop him on the counter, legs wrapping around Atsumu's waist. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. We're not having sex right now, not when we're both mad."

"Why not?" Atsumu nips his way down Hinata's throat, drawing a soft moan. "I heard angry sex is great—though you would know better than I would, right, Shouyou-kun? What with all your vast experience?"

Hinata pushes him back then, eyes burning. "I'm not apologizing for having a past."

"And I'm not asking you to," he grits out. "Just… Fuck, Shouyou-kun—him? Someone we play volleyball against? Regularly? What the hell? Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Hinata flinches. "I—you never asked, and it seemed wrong, somehow, to bring it up if you didn't want to know."

He's right. Atsumu didn't want to know. He could've gone his whole life not knowing, but now that he does, it feels like his skin is being grated and he doesn't know how to speak without being unfair. "You—call him by his first name."

"I call you by your first name, too!"

"Yeah, but that's—" Different, he thinks, even though maybe it's not that different at all. The thought of being the same as these other guys makes Atsumu want to hit something, so he presses harder against Hinata instead, grinding their hips together and basking in the gratification of how Hinata gasps so easily for him, lashes fluttering, eyes wet with want. "I don't like thinking about you with anyone else." The admission feels forced from Atsumu's throat, but it's necessary. His way of apologizing with the truth.

Hinata's expression softens. "And I don't ever want you to have to think about me with anyone else," he replies gently. "But that doesn't mean you can be cruel to people I care about."

Atsumu stills. "You still care about him?"

Hinata winces. "It's not..." He trails off, fixing his gaze at the curve of Atsumu's collar, and when he speaks again, his voice is quiet but filled with purpose. "Last year, Yuu-kun told me he loved me but I couldn't return his feelings because I knew, even then, that I wanted someone else. So I had to break his heart. And I won't be mean to him when I see him; he doesn't deserve that. I'll keep a safe distance between us and would never do anything like hang out with him one-on-one because I know that would be unfair to you, but we're still friends. I stay friends with my exes. And I'm not—I'm not asking you to be nice to them, because I know that's unfair too, but you can't try to hurt them like that, Atsumu-san. That's not okay."

It's so like him, Atsumu thinks, to care about the people who love him even if he doesn't love them back. He's so fucking sweet, all the time. How the hell can Atsumu fault him for that? He twists his face into a mangled smile instead. "Oh, so you're saying you're still willing to be my friend, too, if we break up?"

"No," Hinata says instantly, and Atsumu flinches, unexpectedly hurt by the admission, when Hinata continues, "That's not going to happen because I don't ever plan on breaking up with you."

Atsumu's breath catches. For a moment, he can only stare at Hinata, waiting for the punchline, but Hinata remains steady and sure, no hint of wavering, even in the face of Atsumu's stunned expression. "That's—a heavy claim, Shouyou-kun," he eventually manages, trying for glib. "We've barely been dating four months. You really think you can put up with me for that long?"

Hinata doesn't blink. "I've always known what I wanted. And I've known, for a really long time, that what I want is you. That isn't going to change just because you upset me sometimes."

"That's—" Atsumu swallows thickly. "It's not that easy. You can't—I just attacked you. I dragged you in here and nearly fucking mauled you, all because I was jealous."

"You're allowed to be jealous," Hinata says softly. "Anyone who says otherwise is being unfair. You have such a big heart, and you feel things so deeply, and you found out about someone I'd been with that I hadn't told you about, and you're allowed to have feelings about it. It's okay. I just want to be able to talk about it so I can reassure you there's nothing to be jealous of."

God. Here he is, feeling possessive and irrational, and Hinata is soothing him anyway, telling him his feelings aren't irrational at all. And that's—more. More than he expected, than he deserves.

Everyone always told him that the way he felt so much was a bad thing and he had to learn how to stuff it all down, behind whatever mask he could handle, so he wouldn't fail. But Hinata doesn't look at it like that at all. He's so gentle, and he talks about Atsumu's heart like it's something precious instead of something terrible, and Atsumu wants to cry because it's not the way anyone has ever treated him, like he's made of lovely glass instead of barbed steel.

"You—" His lungs choke up, so fucking pathetic. Hinata only softens even more, sliding his fingers up to the back of Atsumu's neck to guide his head down to rest on his shoulder, his whole body trembling like something weak.

"It's okay," Hinata murmurs. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Yuu-kun. I'm sorry you felt hurt."

"S-shut up," Atsumu tries to scoff, even as he keeps his face buried in Hinata's shoulder, arms winding tight around his waist. "This isn't why I pulled you in here. I just wanted to have sex with you, damn it!"

"We can have sex when we get home," Hinata promises, and Atsumu chokes on a laugh.

"Fuck you! Stop being so sweet! You're making it hard to stay mad!"

*

Hinata goes to Miyagi for most of the break, which earns Atsumu some comments from his grandmother, who pouts like a child when she realizes Atsumu isn't bringing his "adorable little boyfriend" home with him.

"He has his own family, Gran," Atsumu says exasperatedly. "Just because I have no life outside you two jerks doesn't mean Shouyou-kun is the same."

His grandmother whacks him over the head with a newspaper. "Don't talk to me like that. I raised you better than that. You're only allowed to be rude to everyone but me."

*

On Christmas Eve, Hinata calls him so they can have a little video date on one of the most romantic holidays of the year.

It's completely ruined when his grandmother and Osamu squeeze their heads into the frame, hijacking the whole screen to the point where Atsumu sulks the entire time—until they can do it again, on New Years.

Atsumu isn't dumb. He learns from his mistakes. This time, he makes sure to lock himself in the bathroom when Hinata calls, and Hinata laughs for a full five minutes when he recognizes the backdrop, then deals the finishing blow by calling Atsumu cute.

"You're such a dork," Hinata says fondly. "I wish you were here."

Atsumu feels the same. More than he should.

*

Hinata invites Atsumu to spend the last couple days of their break with him in Miyagi, but despite Atsumu's surprisingly strong desire to go and subject himself to the company of strangers, he forces himself to decline. Says he has to stay in Hyougo with his grandmother.

Hinata isn't good at hiding his disappointment, but he never once makes Atsumu feel bad about it. Of course, that only makes Atsumu feel even guiltier, but how the hell is he supposed to sit at a table with the two people who love Hinata most in the world and lie to their faces about what he's done?

"Why didn't you just say yes when he asked if you were just gonna mope around here like a pathetic little baby?" Osamu mutters after the nth time Atsumu exhales a heavy sigh and looks longingly out the window.

Atsumu rolls his head to the side to make a face at him, not even having the energy to bite back. "You don't understand," he grumbles, fully aware he's being petulant.

"You're an idiot," Osamu says in a bored tone. "I understand that just fine."

*

It's only a week and a half. A week and a half off for break before they return to Osaka and spend the next week practicing their asses off until their first game back.

A week and a half without Hinata, and it feels like fucking forever.

"Atsumu-san!"

Atsumu whips around, eyes wide, nearly dropping his keys into the slushy snow next to his still open car door, not expecting to hear that particular voice right now when it's all he's been able to think about since he's been gone.

He just parked in the lot outside his apartment building, and he almost thinks he imagined it—a punishment for how irritatingly sullen Osamu said he'd been over the break—when he notices the blur of orange running towards him, almost sliding in the melted snow in his haste.

"Atsumu-san!" Hinata calls again just as he gets close enough to literally throw himself into Atsumu's arms.

Stunned by the sudden weight, Atsumu has to place a hand on the edge of his car to steady himself before his mind catches up with him and he realizes it's Hinata, Hinata is here, he's here after nearly two weeks of only seeing him through the grainy screen of his cell phone's video chat, and Atsumu's chest fills up with warmth so fast he nearly bursts.

Forgetting everything else, Atsumu gathers Hinata up in his arms so tight he's almost shaking—and it's not from the cold.

"What are you doing here?" Atsumu asks, breathless even though he hadn't been the one who was running.

Hinata leans back to beam up at him, without even trying to untangle from his hold. "I got back this morning and I wanted to see you! I think I was being so annoying about it that Omi-san actually offered to drop me off when you were supposed to arrive." He laughs a little, cheeks pink, sheepish and sweet. "You made great time though! I almost didn't think we were gonna make it!"

Atsumu glances behind him, to where Sakusa's car is parked at the edge of the lot, still running, still there, because Sakusa may be ninety-nine percent misanthropic, but the one percent of him that tolerates humans is always monopolized by his weakness for one Hinata Shouyou, and he won't drive away until he knows Hinata is safely inside.

"Was the drive okay? Did you have a great break? Is Yumi-san feeling better?" Hinata is still babbling, almost like he's a little nervous, like he doesn't think Atsumu would be happy to see him, and the idea is so absurd that Atsumu instantly slides his hands behind Hinata's neck to cup his face so he can kiss him stupid, with tongue, in broad daylight, not caring who sees.

"A-Atsumu-san!" Hinata squeals when he regains his senses enough to pull away. He quickly darts his gaze around the empty parking lot just to be safe, but the expression on his face is so radiant and happy that Atsumu doesn't have a single regret.

"I missed you," he breathes. He steals another kiss, just as deep, just as sweet. This time Hinata lets him. "I missed you so fucking much."

The pure adoration on Hinata's face is so fucking beautiful Atsumu almost forgets this isn't supposed to be real. Hinata rises onto his toes, winding his arms around Atsumu's neck, and against baby soft lips, he whispers, "I missed you, too."

*

The Jackals make it to the finals.

By the end of the third round, they do end up giving up one win—one out of twenty-seven—but they still end up with a record-breaking score and the most number of points, which qualifies them directly for the final match, leaving the other top teams to squirm their way into a chance to beat them.

"Just because you made it this far doesn't mean you've won," Coach Foster tells them during their post-game meeting. "None of it matters if you lose in the end. Don't get cocky. Practice smart. Be ready."

"Yes, Coach!" everyone shouts.

The team is in high spirits, even through the media circus that is usually tedious when they're tired and sweaty and just want to go home. That's especially true today, because it's Valentine's Day, and those who have significant others in town are eager to get the hell out of here to romance their way out of the dog house.

Since their last match this round was early on the Friday, most of the other teams still have games the rest of the weekend before the shortened play-offs, but the Jackals, with their automatic ticket, don't play again until the finals. That gives them just over two weeks not to fuck up with practice in preparation.

"Who do you think we'll be playing against?" one of their teammates asks after they're finally finished with all the stupid social responsibilities that come with being a professional athlete and are getting ready to load the bus.

"My bet's on Raijin or the Falcons," says another. "Are there even any other teams that are actually a threat?"

Meian smacks him on the back of the head with his palm. "That is literally what Coach was talking about," he scowls. "That kind of attitude is what's going to fuck us up if we underestimate the opponents, all becsuse we're on some sort of winning high."

"Aw, c'mon, captain." Atsumu grins. "Is there really any doubt in your mind that we're going to take our second consecutive championship this year? You're not actually worried, are you?"

Meian glares. "Well, no," he admits, "but it doesn't mean you can say it the fuck out loud! What if someone hears you? Do you really want to be painted as arrogant?"

Casually slinging an arm over Hinata's shoulder, Atsumu drawls, "It's not arrogant if it's the truth."

"I need to lock you up in your bedroom tonight," Hinata whispers when they finally settle in on the bus, seated next to each other as always, tucked away near the back.

In the middle of rustling through his bag for his headphones, Atsumu freezes and looks up. "Kinky," he says, tugging the wires free from the front pocket before zipping it shut. "Didn't think that was your thing, Shouyou-kun. Were you hiding this part of you all this time? Have I been unsatisfying your inner freak?"

Hinata turns bright red. "Wha—no! That's not—what're you even—" Then his eyes go wide as he realizes what he must've said and he quickly blurts, "That's not what I meant! I just—it's Valentine's Day, and I wanted to do something special for you! But I can't exactly do it at my house because Omi-san would have both our heads, so I need to use your apartment instead, but I also want it to be a surprise which means you can't be there while I'm setting everything up. Hence—you! Locked in your room! That's it, that's what I meant!"

Atsumu bursts out laughing so hard he has to curl over in his seat, clutching his stomach.

"Stooop," Hinata moans. "Don't make fun of me. I'm trying to be romantic!"

"Just trying?" Atsumu teases after he manages to catch his breath, which admittedly takes a while because holy shit, Hinata is the cutest human being on the face of the planet. Atsumu refuses to believe anyone else has ever managed to be this cute.

"How should I know?" Hinata grumbles, his pretty bottom lip all pouty and full. "You're the only person I've dated like this."

Atsumu's heart does a flip, the possessive part of him preening over that fact.

Not caring how many of their teammates might be watching, Atsumu leans over to catch Hinata's lips in a kiss.

"I'll gladly be locked up for you," Atsumu murmurs when they finally pull away, resting his forehead against Hinata's, thumb brushing lightly over the smooth curve of his cheek.

Hinata blinks, eyes dazed, so weak and pliant to Atsumu's every touch. It's like his mind is wiped of everything else the moment their lips brush, and it makes Atsumu feel so powerful, this unyielding claim he holds over Hinata's heart.

Beautiful… and dangerous.

When his expression clears enough to realize what happened, Hinata's cheeks flood with the prettiest pink and he smacks lightly at Atsumu's arm. "T-that's not what I meant! Why do you always try to make everything dirty?"

Atsumu flashes a grin then tucks Hinata's head against his chest, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. "Hey, I was a virgin when I met you. You're the one corrupting me."

*

By the time they make it back to Atsumu's apartment, the sun has already started to melt the sky into a burnt orange. It always sets so early in the winter. Atsumu's a country boy at heart so he never minds the cold, but the lack of sunlight is a bummer for someone who has started to get so used to living with pure warmth.

There's a new text from Inunaki waiting on his phone, like a heavy weight making a home in the back of his mind.

<< Two weeks left. Are you actually going to do it? >>

Atsumu scowls and tosses the device up the bed. As if he needs the reminder.

"Hey, Shouyou-kun," he calls through the wood of his bedroom door, which he's been holed up behind so Hinata can do whatever it is he's doing in the main area. He's done his best, but it's been an hour of this already and he's tired of being an obedient fake boyfriend. "I'm coming out now!"

"What?!" There's something like a crash, then a swear, then a squeaked, panicked, "No, you can't! I'm not ready!"

The absolute horror in his voice is so adorable that Atsumu has to bite back a laugh. "Well, I'm getting bored in here," he complains exaggeratedly. "What's the point in all this anyway? It's just another day. Why can't we spend it all in bed having sex?"

"I promise you can have your filthy way with me later," Hinata vows, almost reverently, and this time Atsumu actually laughs at how serious he sounds. "But just—twenty more minutes? Please?"

Oh, he's sneaky. He knows Atsumu is absolutely weak whenever he says please. "Ten minutes," he says, just to get Hinata riled up again, and it works because even through the door he can hear Hinata's adorable, audible squeak as he hurries to scramble around like a startled mouse.

Atsumu flops back onto the bed and throws an arm over his face to hide his smile.

Hinata really is too cute for words.

He waits a quarter of an hour, because he's nice like that, then raps his knuckles against the door and announces that he's coming out. Since there's no immediate response, he takes that as an agreement and steps out of the bedroom.

Only to freeze.

When Hinata said he wanted to do something special tonight, this is not what Atsumu expected. The open expanse of all the living areas are covered in Valentine's Day memorabilia. Red aluminum hearts dangling from the ceilings, lace streamers carefully looped along the walls, velvety rose petals scattered deliberately over several flat surfaces… The table has even been set with the nice porcelain they never use and silk napkins folded into adorable, misshapen swans.

All the lights have been shut off except for the small pot lights under the kitchen cabinets that offer an extra glow, but it doesn't even matter because there are enough candles lit around the room to set a steel building on fire.

It's like something from a cheesy romantic comedy, and yet the most breathtaking thing of all is Hinata, standing in the middle of it all, with the pinkest cheeks and the sweetest embarrassment trembling through his shoulders like he's about to throw up.

He's perfect.

"You—you ruined everything," Hinata blurts, and Atsumu doesn't realize he's been staring in silence for so long until it's broken by the nervous crack in Hinata's voice. "I was—I had a plan! Decorations, dinner, candles, and then you come in! But you—you wouldn't even wait until I put everything up, so I haven't even gotten started on dinner yet, and that would've been your favorite part because I know you find all this other stuff silly and you would've been happy if I just cooked for you naked, but—"

Atsumu snorts before he can stop himself, and Hinata gives him the sweetest wounded look that probably shouldn't be nearly as adorable as it is.

"This isn't funny!" he cries. "See, now you're not even—" He breaks off when Atsumu crosses the room to stop in front of him, immediately cradling his face gently in his hands like he's made of the prettiest glass. Hinata looks dazed for a moment, lost in Atsumu's touch, but then quickly shakes out of it, his expression contorting into something between a scowl and a pout, wholly cute. "No!" he growls. "You will not distract me with how hot you are! This is a serious discussion!"

"But Shouyou-kun," he practically purrs, and his belly flares hot at the instant dilating of Hinata's pupils.

This time it takes longer for Hinata to pull himself out of it, though he still looks flustered. "No," he says weakly. "No sex until you appreciate my flowers."

Atsumu bites back a laugh. "Beautiful."

"You barely even looked at them!"

"I wasn't talking about the flowers," he murmurs, and then he finally claims what's his.

For all his attempted protesting, Hinata melts into the kiss pretty much the moment they touch lips, always so weak to his whims. Atsumu smiles briefly then sweeps his tongue through to coax out some of those perfect sounds out of him, needy and soft and fucking music to his ears.

Wanting to hear more, Atsumu continues to kiss Hinata as he wraps one hand around his waist to guide Hinata back with him, until Atsumu can lower him onto the couch, body covering his, one hand sliding slightly beneath the edge of his shirt, just barely, deliberately, teasing him, and Hinata mewls so sweet into his mouth, the sound broken and filled with want.

"That," Hinata breathes, when they part just enough to gasp for air, "was the cheesiest thing you've ever said to me."

Surprised laughter bursts from his lips, and he kisses Hinata again, just because he can. "Says the boy who covered my apartment in hearts."

"I had a plan," he mumbles.

Atsumu props himself up on his elbows so he can get a good look at Hinata's face beneath him, and the way a light dusting of pink permanently clings to his cheeks. God, makeup artists would have a field day with him. He has the prettiest skin. Prettiest everything, really. "Oh yeah?" He brushes his thumb teasingly across Hinata's jaw. "You wanted to woo me with dinner and flowers, right? Well, if you're okay with compromise, I don't mind ordering takeout instead if it means I can keep holding you like this."

To his surprise, Hinata's face actually pinches a little, as if he's upset at the idea, and Atsumu frowns.

"Was making dinner that important to you?"

"It wasn't—about dinner," he says, sounding small, almost crestfallen.

Atsumu hates it. "Shouyou-kun? What's wrong?"

"I…" Hinata's so nervous. Atsumu doesn't think he's ever seen him look this uncertain. Definitely not during a game, when he burns so bright it's a miracle anyone can look directly at him. The only times Atsumu has seen him like this are when he fucks up and jokes about their relationship ending, and that's—

Atsumu freezes, blood going cold. Is that what this is? Is Hinata ending this? It wouldn't make sense, for him to plan out something so romantic only to terminate their relationship, but any sort of rational thinking leaves Atsumu's mind the instant this crippling idea takes root in his blood.

In all the months he's been dreading having to break up with Hinata, despite what the others initially intended, he never once considered the fact that Hinata might break up with him.

"I love you."

Atsumu's lungs stop. What?

"I love you," Hinata breathes again, as if Atsumu could've possibly not heard him. "I'm in love with you. That's what I—that's what this was about. Because I've been trying so hard not to say it over the past few months, and I told myself I could wait, until after we win the championships, and tell you then so it wouldn't get in the way, but lately I feel like I love you so much it'll kill me if I don't say it, and I—" He stops to take a shuddering breath, but his eyes—they're so bright. Brilliant amber, certain and unyielding, so steady despite his anxiety. "I love you, Atsumu-san," he whispers. "I love you so much."

It's like the world has stopped spinning around them. Atsumu can't think.

"You don't have to say it back," Hinata says softly, when Atsumu still hasn't found an answer. "I just… wanted you to know. Needed you to. Because it's true, Atsumu-san, and I—I'm so happy, because I get to be with you, and play on the same team as you, and just be near you while we compete at the other thing we love, and it's—it's everything." Then, slower, softer, "I just wanted you to know."

*

Atsumu doesn't sleep. How the fuck could he, knowing what he does?

After Hinata's confession, Atsumu just kissed him because he didn't know what else to do, and then he fucked him because he was still so shaky he couldn't even breathe, and now it's hours later, and Hinata is sleeping soundly on his chest, and he feels like Satan had taken form in a volleyball player because there is no other excuse for how awful he's been.

God, what is wrong with him? What the hell has he done?

Atsumu climbs out of bed somewhere around four in the morning, knowing rest is an impossibility for him when he's wound so tight. He's careful not to jostle Hinata, who looks like some sort of angel when he's sleeping, unknowingly setting foot in the hands of a self-serving demon.

He pads quietly out of the room. Closes the door so carefully it doesn't make a sound. Can't sit still. Can't wait.

Grabbing his keys, he leaves a quick note for Hinata on the kitchen counter, telling him he's going out for the day, then flees the apartment like his whole world is on fire. And it sure feels like it is.

When he shows up at Osamu's apartment fifteen minutes later, he pounds relentlessly on his front door like an anxious storm until he hears the faint sound of shuffling feet on the other side. There's the flick of a lock and then the reveal of his brother's tired face, expression somewhere between weary and chagrined.

"Why," is all Osamu says.

Atsumu pushes past him into the apartment, and Osamu only lets out a tired sigh before shutting the door and following him inside.

"When I told you I was dating Shouyou-kun, you said it was about damn time." Atsumu stops his pacing to turn to his brother, who slumps into the sofa like he'd rather be anywhere else. "What did you mean by that?"

The look Osamu gives him is purely unimpressed. "Exactly what I said. You'd been pining over that boy for ages; it was about time you found your balls and confessed."

"Pining over him?"

Osamu stares at him like he's lost his mind. "You've been in love with him since we were seventeen. For months after we played him that first time, he was all you could talk about. And remember when you found out he left the country for beach volleyball? You acted so betrayed, like you were some jilted lover left behind. It was annoying. We teased you relentlessly for it. And don't get me started on when he finally joined your team. I refused to read half the texts you sent me gushing about him based on principle alone."

"That doesn't mean I was in love with him!" Atsumu protests, and Osamu rolls his eyes before wincing and rubbing at them. They always get so droopy and dry without his drops.

"You stared at his lips every time he spoke to you and used every excuse you had to keep touching him, either by throwing one arm around his shoulders or using his head as a resting spot for your chin. You're never that affectionate with anyone else. Not to mention the jealousy thing—"

"What?" Atsumu blurts. "What jealousy thing?" He knows he's been possessive while they've been fake dating, but certainly not before then.

Osamu levels him with another look. It's impressive how much he's able to insult him without saying a word. "Sakusa Kiyoomi," is all he says.

"Okay, now that's just not true. I am not jealous of Omi-kun."

"Oh, please, you're practically green in the face every time they're together. If you weren't out drinking with the guys, you'd always find excuses to insert yourself into their space so they'd spend as little time alone together as possible. You whined like a baby every time."

"I—I did not," he says weakly, because—did he? He can't remember, but now that he thinks about it, even before he and Hinata started dating, Atsumu spent a strange amount of time with them. He thought maybe it was because they were two of the closest to his age on the team, but Bokuto joined way before then and Atsumu never spent that much time with him.

Seeing whatever expression must be on his face, Osamu sits up and narrows his eyes. "Why are you asking all these questions like you didn't confess your feelings to him over five months ago and had no idea how you felt?"

Because he's an idiot. That's why. This whole time, Atsumu thought it felt so easy to pretend with Hinata because they were such good friends and Hinata was sweet to tease, but in reality, the reason it felt so real is because it was real. Everything he felt, everything they were to each other. He just didn't realize it until the moment Hinata confessed and he felt the world drop at his feet.

He loves Hinata, and Hinata loves him, and it should be simple—except it's not. Because Atsumu fucked up and let this charade of pretend go on too long, and now…

Now, no matter what he does, he's going to hurt him. Whether he breaks up with Hinata the way he pretended to plan to or tells Hinata the truth… It will destroy him, and Atsumu doesn't even have anyone else to blame because the only person stupid enough to get himself into this mess is him.

*

The MSBY gym is eerily quiet for a Saturday. It's atrociously early, for one thing, and the day after a match, for another. Even those of the team who will come in for personal workouts won't show up until later, so Atsumu makes himself comfortable on a bench in the locker room, waiting for the others to arrive.

He only sent one cryptic message to all the guys who were at the party that night asking them to meet him here, and he didn't have to tell them what this is about. They're all aware.

"Okay, Miya. Why are we here?" one of the reserve spikers says the moment they all arrive.

"I—want to do something, but I can't unless you all agree. So we have to make a decision here." Atsumu takes a deep, halting breath. "I don't want to break up with Shouyou-kun."

"No shit, Sherlock," one of the others snorts. "You've been putting it off for months. But soon you won't have the tournament excuse."

Atsumu shakes his head. "No, I mean… I don't want to break up with him at all."

That makes them freeze. "You mean… you want to tell him the truth?"

Atsumu flinches, and it's Meian, ever the watchful captain, that puts it together first. "You want to keep pretending there was never a dare at all."

It's an accusation, and Atsumu deserves it, even if it feels like a judgemental slap to the face. "I don't want to hurt him," Atsumu replies, the excuse thick on his tongue despite being real. "I—like him." Love him, he thinks, desperately. So much, too much. "I—want to be with him—stay with him—and if I tell him what happened, if I let him know this all started with a dare, it'll just destroy him, and I can't—he can't—"

He thinks of how easily Hinata cries on behalf of others but never gives himself the same luxury of breaking down where anyone can see. He thinks of how Hinata looked when he told Atsumu he loved him, gentle and kind yet without the slightest surprise that Atsumu didn't say it back.

He thinks of the way Hinata has been slowly growing more confident with how he acts around Atsumu, and yet there's still this air of hesitation with his every touch, like he thinks that one day he'll try to reach out and Atsumu won't be there. Won't accept him. Won't want him anymore.

Atsumu can't hurt him. He can't.

It's cowardly and awful and unbelievably cruel, but he'd rather live with this guilt for the rest of his life than risk the possibility of ruining the most perfect person he's ever known.

"So you're asking us to keep quiet then," Inunaki says slowly, and Atsumu's hands curl into fists.

"I know it's not fair," he says, "and I know you all think I'm a fucking asshole for pretending this long. But what the hell else am I supposed to do? Just tell him the truth—that I'm only dating him because of a dare—and hope for the best? Tell him I've been fucking him this whole time while thinking this was all fake and expect him to forgive me? Because—"

There's a loud gasp around the room, and then Atsumu's back hits the lockers so suddenly he doesn't even realize what's happening until someone's fist connects painfully with his jaw.

"You piece of shit," Sakusa is snarling, and in a daze, Atsumu realizes several of the others are trying to yank Sakusa off him but his other hand is twists in Atsumu's shirt, and if Meian didn't have a hold on his arm he probably would've punched Atsumu again, and why the hell is he even here? "A dare?" Sakusa hisses. "You've been dating him because of a dare? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Wh—no! I mean, yes, technically, but I didn't mean to," Atsumu blurts, tasting a hint of blood in his mouth. "It was just supposed to be a stupid confession but then he said he liked me back and I couldn't—what are you even doing here?"

But then his blood goes cold, because there's only one reason Sakusa Kiyoomi ever goes to the team gym on his day off.

Atsumu turns his head, already flooded with horror, and there, standing in the doorway to the changeroom, is Hinata, gym bag clutched tightly in one hand, looking paler than Atsumu's ever seen him.

"Atsumu-san?" he whispers—and fuck, his voice is so small, so shaky, but that has nothing on the look on his face.

No.

"I—I didn't think you would be here," Hinata whispers. "I… You left so early this morning, and I thought… Omi-san came to pick me up and said it was too cold for me to run outside, so we were going to use the team gym. I didn't..." His head turns slowly to look around the room, and Atsumu doesn't have to move to know that the others are frozen in a similar state of horror. "I didn't…" His whole body is shaking. "It was a dare? You were with me because of a dare?"

Atsumu tries to speak, but nothing comes out. His mouth is open but he doesn't make a sound.

It's like Hinata's whole heart crumples into itself, and in return, Atsumu feels his whole world fall apart. "Oh."

"He didn't want to do it!" Inunaki blurts in a rush, as desperate to fix this as the others are but the only one who seems capable of speaking. "Not the dare, not the pretend relationship—none of it. We made him. He wanted to tell you right away, not even attempt the whole thing, but we convinced him that pretending to date you for a bit would be easier so he just—"

"Shion," Thomas murmurs, placing a hand on his arm, and Inunaki must realize too late how that sounds, like Atsumu had to be bullied into just pretending to be with him. Like he didn't want him at all.

"Oh," Hinata says again, like his body is trying to react somehow but doesn't know what to say—except it's worse, because even with this single syllable, his voice trembles like he's walking barefoot in a storm. "I—" His voice cracks, and his bag slips from his fingers, hitting the floor with an echoing sound so loud that everyone flinches—but Hinata doesn't seem to notice, because his pain is so much closer, and he reaches up to clutch his own shirt as if the ache is a physical thing he can try to pull away. "Oh. I—" A choked sound escapes his throat, the worst sound any of them have ever heard, and Hinata immediately covers his mouth with his hand as if to shove it back in, fingers trembling so much it's like his whole body is shaking.

Then he does the worst thing he could possibly do. He tries to fake a smile.

"Ah—i-it's okay," he tries to say. "Really! I—I should've known, I—I should've… You guys don't have to look like that, I don't…" Another whimpered sound he's not quick enough to hold back, and the way his whole face is in the process of shattering no matter how hard he tries not to let it. "I should've…"

Atsumu finds his voice, but his throat is hoarse, rougher than sandpaper. "S-Shouyou-kun—"

"No, it's—okay, I didn't… I—it makes sense, I… You—you must've felt so awful then, when I said I liked you in return. Responsible, right? And—that's why you kept pretending. Because you didn't want me to get hurt." He tries to smile, but it's so wrong, so broken, that Atsumu feels like someone is deliberately shredding at his heart. "You're—you're a really kind person, y'know, Atsumu-san?"

His stomach plummets through the floor and doesn't stop falling for a second. "Shouyou—"

"I'm sorry," he chokes out behind that fake, fake smile and those gut-wrenching tears. He ducks his head a little, as if to hide the way his cheeks have started to flood, but none of them miss the way his shoulders curl into himself, how his spine arcs in a trembling way they've never seen on him. "I—didn't mean to cause so much trouble. You don't have to pretend anymore. You don't—" A choked sob, and he tries to smile wider before he quickly bows and blurts, "I'm sorry again! I'll see you at practice tomorrow!"

And with one last, watery, broken attempt at reassurance—for them, these people who have lied to him, hurt him—Hinata is gone.

The stunned silence left behind feels like it lasts an eternity, but then Atsumu feels the bile rise in his throat and he quickly jerks free of Sakusa's hold, running out after him.

"Shouyou-kun!"

There's no answer, and Atsumu didn't expect there to be. The halls are empty, too—Hinata is so fast, has always been so fast—but Atsumu is desperate, and he runs down them anyway, keeping his ears open to listen to any footsteps or clues that can point him in the direction of wherever Hinata had gone to.

He ends up bursting out the front door, into the chilly February air and mostly deserted parking lot. He spots Sakusa's car at the edge, in its usual space, but Hinata isn't there waiting for him, isn't anywhere at all.

"Shouyou!" he cries out, but of course only his desperation echoes back at him.

He does another lap of the building just in case, only to come up empty. By the time he makes it back out front, Sakusa is standing by his car, glaring at his phone, but Hinata is nowhere to be found. And yet Sakusa gets into his car anyway, drives away anyway, even though Hinata isn't there, and Atsumu can't…

Is Hinata going to try and walk home? The thought makes Atsumu sick. It's fucking freezing out, and he wasn't dressed for it.

Atsumu takes his car and drives back and forth between Hinata's house and the gym several times, trying to see if he can spot Hinata on his way back to give him a lift the rest of the way. He comes up empty. He tries to call Hinata's cell, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

With trembling hands, he eventually sends Hinata a single message.

<< Please text me when you get home. Please. >>

It isn't until hours later, just after sundown, that he gets a response.

<< i'm home >>

His heart jumps in his chest. He was certain Hinata blocked him. Sitting shakily on his couch, legs weak from all the pacing he's done, Atsumu sends one more text.

<< Shouyou-kun, can we talk? >>

Atsumu keeps checking his phone all night, but he never gets an answer.

*

Hinata doesn't show up for practice the next day. Neither does Sakusa.

The coach says they called in sick, but there's a heavy weight over practice, thick and suffocating, because all of them know that's not the case.

This is their fault. Atsumu's. All of theirs.

Atsumu accidentally sets a quick too fast for Barnes, and it isn't the only mistake they make that day.

In between drills, none of them speak.

*

The day after, Hinata still doesn't show. But Sakusa does.

Exhausted and tense, he glares at anyone who looks at him and wears an expression like he wants to punch Atsumu in the face every time he tosses him a ball. His aura is dangerous, telling all of them that anyone who approaches him today isn't getting off easy.

After practice, Atsumu does it anyway.

"Omi-kun—"

He's shoved against the locker before he can get another word out, and it's so reminiscent of the day before that Atsumu would almost laugh if he didn't feel so empty.

Sakusa twists his fingers in Atsumu's shirt, and the expression on his face… Atsumu has never seen him look like that before, not even on days when Atsumu does everything he can to try to get on his nerves.

His jaw still aches from the punch. He's certain Sakusa's hand must hurt. Neither of them mentions it.

Tightening his fist against Atsumu's chest, pinning him against the wall just as thoroughly with his hand as he does with his eyes, Sakusa says, very slowly, "I'm going to say this once and then I'll never say it again. Stay the fuck away from him. This isn't a request."

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Atsumu chokes out. "I… I was just trying to—"

"You were lying to him," Sakusa hisses. "For months. This whole time he was falling in love with you, you were trying to decide when would be the best time to break up with him so you wouldn't have to tell him that the only reason you were together was because of a dare. If you can't understand how fucked up that is without me telling you, then you shouldn't be in a relationship in the first place."

"I just want to know how he is," Atsumu says in a small voice.

Sakusa's expression is pure loathing. "How the fuck do you think?"

*

On the third day, Hinata finally returns to practice but no one is relieved.

Because his eyes are still red and swollen. Rimmed with dark circles and on the perpetual edge of bursting into tears. He keeps his head down and doesn't look anyone in the eye, but he still smiles and cheers everyone on the way he always does, even though it's obvious he's trembling and his words are all forced.

He plays great. That was never supposed to be a surprise. Atsumu always knew Hinata was the kind of person who'd never let his emotions negatively impact how he performs on the court.

Everyone else, on the other hand, doesn't fare as well.

"Aw, what's wrong with you guys today?" Hinata laughs weakly when they fuck up another team drill because everyone is too tense to properly function. "You can't play like that if you wanna win! How are we supposed to take the championship title if no one can spike a ball?"

Meian's gaze is remorseful. "Hinata—"

"We're going to win!" he says. "Isn't that what you all said last week? So let's win! I didn't take any of you for a liar!"

Everyone flinches, knowing how wrong that is, but even worse, knowing that Hinata didn't mean it to be unkind at all. He's genuinely trying to encourage them, despite what they've done, and the fact that he's the one who has to is fucking shameful in its own right, barring everything else.

So they stop giving him reasons to. Stop fucking up. For the rest of the practice, the team works even harder, and at the end of it, Hinata tells them they did a great job, even if he never lifts his eyes.

"He's amazing, isn't he," Inunaki says quietly, from the sidelines, as they watch Hinata's hands shake while he gathers balls in a way he'd been careful not to let show during their scrimmage.

Atsumu's chest aches so much. "Yeah. He is."

The rest of the week passes similarly, and Atsumu doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Because on the court, Hinata is perfect. He's exactly the kind of spiker Atsumu fell in love with: resilient, dedicated, strong.

But as soon as practice is dismissed, he disappears before anyone has a chance to apologize, and avoids them all between drills and exercises, and when they try to talk to him about anything other than volleyball, he quickly excuses himself and vanishes until the next training cycle can begin.

It's… off. Impossible. He's trying so hard to act like everything is normal, but how the hell can he be like this after everything they've done?

It would be so much easier, if he yelled. If he was angry. If he hated them for it.

The hurt on his face instead... Atsumu will never forget that look for the rest of his life.

"Shouyou-kun." Atsumu corners him by the bench after a particularly rigorous spiking exercise, and he tries not to be wounded at the way Hinata flinches.

With his back to him, Hinata takes a moment to steady himself, hand trembling around his water bottle, before he turns around with one of his new signature fake smiles plastered on his face. "Yes, Atsumu-san? Do you want to go over the signs again for the game?"

Atsumu's fist tightens. "No, I… I wanted to talk about—"

"Oh, don't worry about it!" he laughs, like his voice isn't shaking at the mere mention. "Really! I get it. You were trapped, and you did the best you could! It's okay."

"But it's not, Shouyou-kun. None of this is okay. I—hurt you—and—and slept with you when I was—god, I—"

"It's okay, Atsumu-san! I understand. You were trapped," he says again, trying to be reassuring even as his voice wavers, "and I was clingy, so you went with it. Just pretty enough to keep your dick warm, right?"

Atsumu sucks in a sharp breath at the horrible familiarity of those words. "That's not… No, I didn't mean—"

"So don't—we don't have to talk about it anymore, okay?" he says, in that awful attempt at a bright voice he's been using lately which never works because his face is too open, too kind, and he wears his heartbreak on his sleeve. "We can just—forget it. Forget all of it."

"Shouyou—"

"Please." And—there it is. This time his voice cracks, and he looks away, and he tries to look back, but he can't lift his head. There it is, that crack in his expression that makes him look like that devastated, heartbroken boy who stood at the edge of a changeroom and found out that his boyfriend didn't want him. "Please."

Atsumu swallows thickly, heart like lead. "If that's what you want, Shouyou-kun."

He winces. "Also—" He curls his shoulders in. Tightens his grip around his water bottle. His eyes never leave the floor. "Can you… call me by my family name? Instead?"

It's like slapping Atsumu right across the face.

In all the years they've known each other, even when they were barely acquainted, just two strangers on opposite sides of the net, Atsumu has never once called him by his family name and Hinata never minded.

To ask that to change now, after everything they've been through… Atsumu wants to scream, or cry, or both, because it feels too much like giving up—like admitting there's nothing left to salvage—and just the thought of that, of not having Hinata forever… It's…

But when the hell has Hinata ever asked him for anything, even when they were dating? When has he ever asked anyone for anything that wasn't a toss? Atsumu tries to think back and comes up completely blank, and that's—scary. It's so fucking scary. Hinata gives so much and takes so little, and they hurt him anyway, just because they could.

The whole time, Atsumu kept saying this was because of Hinata. Because he didn't want to break Hinata's heart.

But no. The truth is that Atsumu was just too much of a coward to break his own.

There's a mountain in his throat but he tries to smile anyway. Takes a page out of Hinata's book and forces one that's entirely fake. "Sure, Hinata," he says. "That better?"

Atsumu knows the instant he sees Hinata's face that he made a mistake.

"Shou—Hinata?" he says, alarmed, because the expression he's wearing—

Hinata quickly ducks his head, but it's too late, Atsumu has already seen him, and he doesn't understand—why would Hinata look like this if that's what he wanted?—but before he can try to figure it out, Hinata's stammering out another weak, positive response about how he'll see him tomorrow, and then he's gone, running out of the gym like a horde of monsters are chasing him.

Atsumu stares at the hand he'd been reaching out without even realizing it and wonders if he'll ever stop feeling like he wants to bury himself in a hole and never come out.

He doubts it.

*

When they win the tournament, it's bittersweet.

Because when Hinata scores that final point, it isn't the exhilaration of victory that claims his features. It's soul-crushing relief, devastating and overwhelming, like he's been holding in so much for so long and now that it's over, now that they've won, it can all come flooding out and he doesn't know how to stop it.

Sakusa is at his side first, pulling Hinata's face into his chest to help hide whatever expression he might be wearing from the crowds in the appearance of a celebratory hug. Atsumu wants to go to him, too, wants to hold him tight and protect him from the world, but he knows he doesn't have the right to, and that might be the worst part of this whole mess.

The fact that he can't even comfort Hinata when he's breaking. The fact that he can't do anything at all.

Atsumu feels like a ghost throughout the following media circus. Like he's not really there. Their main publicist gives him an exasperated look for it but thankfully doesn't ream him out.

She must know what this is about, considering both Hinata and Sakusa asked not to be featured with him. Atsumu hadn't been discreet about his relationship with Hinata around the team, never being one to hold back with anything, and now that it's all over, the difference in interaction is glaringly obvious. She'd have to be blind not to figure it out.

They were close, before. They were teammates; friends. But over the past few months, they've grown into more than that—and not just with the fake relationship, because it was always real, even before he realized it.

Somehow, overtime, Hinata became his best friend. His favorite person.

And now he's nothing. Or, more specifically, Atsumu is nothing.

Just the asshole who broke his fucking heart.

*

"So what are you going to do to get him back?" Barnes asks.

They're at the afterparty, huddled together in a booth at the back of the izakaya. None of them are in the mood to be there, but they didn't have a choice. This celebration includes a lot of team execs, sponsors, and management, so it's part of their job to attend and make sure everyone is having a good time.

Only Hinata and Sakusa got a free pass. From the way Hinata looked ready to collapse during closing ceremonies, with his red-rimmed eyes and painfully weak smiles, no one called them out on it.

"What're you talking about," Atsumu says sullenly. "I'm an asshole. As if he'd ever date me again."

"Well… yes," says Barnes, not even trying to reassure him. Even the nicest of them still knows Atsumu's a dick. "But Shouyou loved you for a reason, right? So there has to be something you can do to convince him to take you back! I mean, you really loved him by the end, didn't you?"

Atsumu presses his cheek to the glass of his beer and whimpers. "So much."

"Then you should try," Barnes says firmly. "It's always important to put in the effort to fix your mistakes after you make them."

"Besides, you're on the same team," one of the others adds. "He can't stay mad at you for long!"

"Yeah, you just gotta—convince him your feelings are real! Show him you care! A grand gesture!"

A grand gesture…

Atsumu thinks of the way Hinata took care of him when his grandmother got hurt without being asked. The way he would cook for Atsumu almost every single day, no matter how tired he was from practice, all because it made him happy. The way he decorated Atsumu's entire apartment with hearts and candles and flowers just so he could tell him he loved him for the first time.

Then he thinks about the expression on Hinata's face every time Atsumu went near him over the past couple weeks, and his stomach clenches all over again.

"No," he chokes out. "Maybe I want to be with him again, but Shouyou-kun—" Hinata, he reminds himself bitterly. "—deserves so much better."

"Oh?" Inunaki leans forward over the table, an expression on his face that Atsumu hasn't seen in a long time. "So what then? You're just gonna let him go? Give up just like that?"

"Yep."

"Hm." Inunaki drums his fingers lightly against the tabletop. "Guess that means you'll be okay when he starts fucking other guys again, huh?"

Atsumu sits up so quickly that the two teammates on either side of him jerk away to protect their drinks from getting knocked over. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you haven't thought that far ahead yet? Well, you do realize that for someone like Hinata, that's the natural progression of things after a breakup, don't you? Because if you're not going to try and win him over, I promise you, there will be at least a dozen other guys lining up to take their shot."

Surging over the table, Atsumu wraps his fist around the front of Inunaki's shirt and snarls, "Fuck you, you have no idea what you're—"

"Miya." Meian tightens his grip around Atsumu's wrist until he lets go then shoots Inunaki a disapproving look. "Not the best course of action when he's drunk, don't you think?"

Inunaki doesn't look the least bit remorseful. "I'm just trying to get him to pull his head out of his ass without having to make the biggest mistake of his life again. And we all know that's what letting Hinata go would be."

"It's not that easy," Atsumu stresses. "I lied to him. Why the hell would he ever trust me again?"

"You may have fucked up, but he still loves you. Any one of us can see it; it's the reason it hurts him so much. But despite all that, when you two were in a relationship, half-fake or not, you were good together. Good for each other. Happy. Do you really think you can be that way without him if he ever finds someone else?"

"That's…" The obvious answer is no, because he doesn't, but just because the thought of Hinata moving on makes him feel like his stomach's being turned inside out doesn't mean he gets a say in what Hinata does after this.

Despite what Hinata said, Atsumu didn't have a right to be jealous when they were dating, and he definitely doesn't have a right now.

Too bad his emotions are always so fucking irrational anyway.

Before he can find an appropriate response that isn't he'll fall in love with another guy over my dead body, his phone buzzes in his pocket, surprising him. He doesn't keep in touch with a lot of people, and anyone he does talk to would know that he's out with the team right now.

It's from Hinata. The first message he's sent since the day Atsumu ruined everything.

<< can we talk tomorrow? >>

Atsumu stares. Noticing his reaction, Meian peers over his shoulder to see what's wrong—nosy bastard—but Atsumu doesn't even mind because he needs a realist to help snuff out this strange feeling growing in his belly before it's too late.

"Hey, that's something," Meian says. "Hinata just texted him. That's probably good, right? I mean, this'll be the first time he's reached out since the breakup, yeah?"

"Yeah," Atsumu echoes. His eyes never leave the screen. He's too scared that if he takes his eyes off them, the words will disappear.

"What do you think he wants to discuss?" Barnes asks curiously.

Inunaki hums. "'Can we talk' is usually the lead up to a break up conversation, but since you two are already broken up, I can't really think of anything worse that could come out of this."

"Still," Thomas says, his eyes kind and bright in a way that always reminds him of Hinata. "It's a start, right?"

For the first time in weeks, Atsumu feels something like hope warm his chest. "Yeah. It's a start."

*

Atsumu goes to the gym fifteen minutes early and somehow Hinata still beats him there.

He's standing in front of the display case in the main lobby when Atsumu finds him, eyes tracing over last year's championship photo that's propped on the middle shelf in its antique cherry frame. They haven't replaced it with the new one yet, and Atsumu doesn't know how Hinata can stand to look at the old one with the way that they seemed.

Close. Carefree. Happy.

Unlike now.

Taking a deep breath, Atsumu starts making his way towards him.

Hinata doesn't turn to him until Atsumu has fully stopped at his side, even though he was sure to make his presence known on his way over. And when he finally does, Atsumu feels his breath catch.

Hinata looks exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes and a pallid tone to his skin that Atsumu hates seeing on him. Normally, he holds his spine straight with the kind of surety Atsumu finds so breathtaking about him, but now it's curved slightly forward, shoulders slumped, hands shoved into his pockets. He still has his coat on, which either means he hasn't been here long or he doesn't plan on staying.

With a tight coiling in his gut, Atsumu feels like he knows the answer.

He's still the most beautiful thing Atsumu's ever seen.

"Hey," he says quietly. "I'm glad you texted. Did you drive here?"

Hinata shakes his head. He knows what Atsumu's really asking. "Omi-san's waiting in the car. We have a lot of errands to run today."

So he doesn't even think this will take more than a few minutes. Atsumu starts to force a smile, but it reminds him too much of what Hinata has been doing these past couple weeks, so he drops it instead.

The others were right. If he wants to try and win Hinata back, he has to learn to be honest. And while the idea of trying to bare his soul to someone else makes him want to tear all his skin off, he'll do it, for him. He'd do anything if it meant Hinata would give him another chance.

"Shou—I mean, Hinata—"

"I wanted to tell you the news," Hinata says, deliberately breaking in before Atsumu can speak any further, turning his attention back to the photograph, "before you heard it from someone else."

Atsumu stills. "News?"

He breathes in slowly. Breathes out. Atsumu realizes, then, that the reason Hinata's hands are hidden is so Atsumu can't watch them shake. "I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" Atsumu echoes dumbly. "You mean… back to Miyagi? But I thought—there are a lot of press events over the next week, and—don't you have that endorsement meeting? Why are you… Will you be back soon? Is everything alright with your family?"

Never taking his eyes off the frame, Hinata says quietly, "Not Osaka. I meant I'm leaving Japan."

Atsumu's heart stops. "You're leaving Japan," he repeats, voice hollow.

Hinata nods. "In two days."

"In two days."

"Yes. I—this team in Brazil, Asas Sao Paolo—they're so amazing, Atsumu-san, and their club is one I really admired when I was over there—they extended an invitation last year after seeing me play in that first championship game, but I turned them down because I'd only started in Japan. They reached out with another offer this year, and at first I wasn't going to take it, but then I…" He bites his lip. "I decided it'd be a really great opportunity. I start training with them next week."

There's a buzzing in Atsumu's head, keeping any of this from clicking beyond the rising feel of anxiety in his chest. "You're leaving… in two days… for Brazil."

"Yes."

"That's…" He tries to breathe. Can't. His vision blurs a little, and he tries again, barely managing to wrangle a shaky inhale, but his vision is completely fucked and all he can think is no, this can't be happening. No, he can't do this. No. N— "No."

Startled, Hinata jerks his head towards him. "No?"

"No," he heaves. "You can't. What the fuck, Shouyou? You're just gonna drop this bomb and quit the team without even giving us a chance to—you can't. Not because of this!"

"There were a lot of factors that went into this decision—"

"Oh, that's bullshit and you know it. You're fleeing the country—and you shouldn't have to! You shouldn't—" He breaks off. Bites his tongue so he doesn't cry—or scream. "I can go. I'll leave the team. If it's me you can't stand to be around, you shouldn't let that stop you from being here. You can stay."

Hinata's eyes grow into paper plate circles. "I can't let you do that!"

"Well, I can't let you move the fuck out of Japan just because I broke your heart!"

"It's not—"

"Not my fault? Are you serious? You're really going to keep playing that card when you're literally taking an offer from another country just so you won't have to see me?" Atsumu reaches out to cup Hinata's face so he's forced to meet his gaze, and though Hinata flinches at the touch, Atsumu is gratified by the fact that he doesn't pull away. "You won't even look at me anymore," he whispers. "You don't—you don't talk to anyone, you don't meet anyone's eyes, and you always look like you're about to cry but push these terrible smiles on your face like you think that's what we want to see when in reality all we want is for you to talk to us, Shouyou-kun. We need you to talk to us."

Hinata's bottom lip quivers. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," he pleads. "I know we fucked up. I know we made a mess of everything and I can't fucking fix it with just a worthless apology, but I promise you, Shou-kun, none of us ever meant to let it get so far. It was an accident, and we—we made all the wrong decisions, but you have to believe me, we never meant to—"

Hinata flinches, and he twists, finally struggling to get out of his hold. "No. Stop it."

"Please, Shouyou-kun, just—"

"I—can't. Don't—"

"If you would just let me explain—"

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me!" he cries out. "That's what I've been saying, all this time! I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but you hurt me anyway, and I can't—I can't be here, Atsumu-san, it's killing me. I can't—I can't stand here and want you so much it's hard to breathe, only to remember how it felt to find out you spent half the time pretending and most of our team knew. And no one said anything. It's…" He chokes on something that might be a breath and might be a sob but is wholly heartbreaking either way. "It hurts. It hurts so much, because I really thought you…" He shakes his head, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. "I don't blame you for what happened, but I can't do it anymore. Not now. Please don't make me."

He's fully crying now, wrists trying to keep up with how fast the tears are pouring out, but it's all futile, he can't wipe them all away, so he settles for covering his whole face instead, the entirety of his body curling in as if to protect him from the heart-wrenching sobs that are being ripped from his throat.

Atsumu feels his own heart shatter into a hundred million tiny little pieces. Without even thinking about it, he gathers Hinata up in his arms, tucking him close against his chest, to his pounding heart, and it's a small miracle that Hinata lets him, crying into his shirt with these choked sounds that are more breathless gasps than sobs.

It's fucking agonizing. How many times in the past has Atsumu wished he could turn back time? To not embarrass himself at some sort of public function, to not mess up a serve in a volleyball match?

This trumps all of that. He would give anything to be able to turn back the clock, refuse the dare, then ask Hinata out on his own terms so he can show him how much he means to him.

Anything to avoid this moment, where he has the sweetest boy in the world in his arms and all he can do is break.

*

Hinata leaves for Brazil on a Tuesday.

Atsumu doesn't say goodbye.

Instead, he gets on the road and drives two hours straight out of Osaka until he's back in front of that familiar wooden door that used to be his sanctuary when he was too young to know how to hide the way he felt.

He always knocks when he shows up without warning, despite having a key. It takes an agonizing thirty seconds before the door finally opens, and his grandmother's stunned face is both soothing and heartbreaking.

"Atsumu? What on earth are you doing here?"

He tries to smile but it comes out twisted instead. "I fucked up, Gran. I really fucked up."

And then he starts to cry.

Atsumu has always hated being in Tokyo during large publicized events, but the Summer Olympics are another monstrosity entirely.

The crowds are abominable. The heat is relentless. The fans are demanding. The press have no boundaries.

Luckily, the Olympic Village where all competing athletes stay is completely off-limits to the rest of the world—part of its public charm, despite the fact that it's more like a glorified stack of shoeboxes than anything else—so while a lot of the other athletes have plans to go out on the town when they have time, Atsumu is ready to burrow in and make this cramped place his lair.

Unfortunately, some demonic organizer decided that since he and Sakusa are on the same team, they wouldn't mind sharing a room together. Which would be fine, if Sakusa still didn't hate his guts.

"Oh no," Hinata says when Atsumu goes off and complains to him, trying to be sympathetic even when he has to press his lips together to hide a laugh. "I'm sure it's not that bad! Omi-san can be grumpy sometimes, but he really is a great roommate!"

Atsumu snorts. Yeah, maybe if Atsumu didn't break his best friend's heart. But they don't talk about that, so instead he says, "There is literally not a single person on this planet other than you who would call Mr. Be-Quiet-or-Perish a great roommate. He's more anal about his living spaces than Kita-san is. I feel like he'll burn me alive with his glares simply for breathing loud."

"Breathe through your nose," Hinata says automatically. "It helps."

Atsumu makes a face. "Okay, that was not the emotional support I was looking for, but thanks."

Hinata laughs, and it makes Atsumu want to kiss him, but they don't talk about that either, so he bites his tongue and lets Hinata finish filling his water bottle. "If it's really bugging you, we can switch? They assigned me to a dorm with Kageyama, and I don't mind living with either of them if you want to choose."

While rooming with Kageyama sounds significantly better than sharing a cramped space with someone who thinks he's the worst person on earth, Atsumu is even more put-off by the idea of Hinata and Sakusa living together again. He knows it's never been like that with them, but he also knows that they stayed close after Hinata left Japan in ways Atsumu hadn't been allowed to, and that, coupled with his remaining jealousy over their unshakable friendship and the way Hinata looks so radiant every time he sees Sakusa again, unlike with Atsumu, who he always offers a weak smile and polite nod instead… It makes him want to dig his nails into something.

Awareness has not made his possessiveness less.

"Nah, it's fine," he says eventually. "I can put up with Omi-kun's sour looks for a few weeks. Are you and Tobio-kun gonna be okay or do we have to send a moderator in every hour to check to make sure you two haven't competed yourselves into an early grave?"

Another laugh, just as sweet, though not nearly as bright as the ones he gives everyone else. "Not before we win gold! After that… Well, I guess we'll see!" He screws the cap back on his bottle and turns. "I'm gonna head out on my run now, but I'll see you later?"

Atsumu wants to offer to go with him, but he always maxes out how much he's allowed to interact with Hinata off the volleyball court per day after about five minutes, so he forces a smile and leans back against the wall instead. "Sure. See you later, Shouyou-kun."

And that's that.

This is what his relationship with Hinata is like now: friends. Or at least, surface friends who are pleasant to each other but never talk about anything deep.

It wasn't like this at first. At first, Atsumu could never stop the yearning from showing up on his face, and Hinata refused to meet his eyes even when they were directly speaking.

But they're both on the national team, so Hinata had to come back for training camps and exhibition games as they prepared for the Olympics, and it wasn't like they could avoid each other forever, especially not since Hinata refused to tell anyone outside the Jackals what happened between them, which meant that no one would understand why they were being so tense.

So overtime, without having to discuss it, they agreed to be civil. Hinata stopped looking like he was going to burst into tears whenever Atsumu came near him, and Atsumu learned to keep a respectful distance between them despite every muscle in his body begging him to get closer. Atsumu probably pushes the line a little too much, seeks Hinata out in moments he shouldn't, but it's fine. He's fine.

It's been well over a year. It should be easier by now, not to want him. Not to miss him.

It's not.

"Are you gonna be okay, Tsum-Tsum?" Bokuto watches him worriedly at dinner, where Atsumu tries not to stare every time Hinata genuinely laughs at something someone else said at another table—so different from the halted ones Atsumu had gotten out of him that morning.

His smile is wide and plastic. "Why wouldn't I be?"

*

"No way," Hakuba is saying. "Hinata has definitely fucked the most people on the team, no contest."

Atsumu freezes all the way into his bones. He'd been about to walk into the dining hall to grab a late night snack when he hears the sounds of several people gathered inside, despite the hour.

He wants to walk away. He needs to.

He doesn't.

"Wouldn't surprise me," snorts Yaku.

"I'd believe it," Kageyama agrees.

"S-shut up! That's not even true!" Hinata sounds adorably flustered, and it makes the others laugh and coo and tease him like the sweetheart he is. He always gets a little worked up when it comes to his sex life—not because he's embarrassed by it, kinky little thing that he is, but because he adamantly believes in not kissing and telling and doesn't want to be disrespectful to the people he's been with by discussing it with someone else.

"Well, I mean, there's you for one," Hakuba is saying, and Atsumu doesn't know whether he's grateful or upset that he can't see who Hakuba is gesturing at. "Then of course Hyakuzawa, who still looks at you like you have freaking rainbows coming out of your ass—"

"Oh my god, we are not listing everyone I've ever slept with—"

"—and didn't you have that thing with Miya, too? I think I heard somewhere it was kind of a big deal because you never did anything exclusive before then."

There's a beat of silence then Hinata's patented forced laugh, the one when you know something's hurting him but he's too nice to openly show it. "Yeah, for a bit! But now we're just friends."

Kageyama snorts. "You're friends with everyone."

"That's because everyone's great!" Hinata says. "Even you, Meanieyama, when you're not being a total jerk half the time."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anyway, you're all wrong. Ushijima-san has definitely slept with more people on the team than I have!"

From around the corner, Atsumu can almost see Ushijima shrug. "Everyone just keeps asking me to rail them. It's fine. I don't mind."

The room bursts into flurries of laughter and ribbing, and Atsumu uses that to mask his escape.

He doesn't stop until he makes it to his room, shutting the door behind him and pressing his back to it, his breathing heavy. Everything hurts. He can't think. He wants Hinata to hold him, to soothe his hand against his neck, to run his fingers gently through his hair, to tell him it'll all be okay, that he will get through this, but Hinata isn't here and won't ever be here again, and Atsumu feels like the world is caving in on him and doesn't know if a light at the end of the tunnel even exists.

Sakusa looks up from his laptop like he's going to ream him out for being so loud only to stop at the look on his face. He sits up in an instant, slipping his headphones onto his neck. "What is it? What happened?"

Atsumu shakes his head. Presses a hand to his chest. Tries to count to ten. Slower, he hears Osamu scold him in his head. Didn't you hear what the doctor said? It won't work if you don't actually focus on it. Count like you're timing it every three steps.

He starts over. Does it again. By the time he's finished, his breathing has calmed a little, though his heart is still racing.

He pretends his eyes aren't wet.

"I'm going over Argentina's last match again," Sakusa says suddenly. "If you can keep from being annoying for a couple hours, you can watch it with me."

It's an olive branch. One Sakusa rarely offers to anyone, let alone someone he's still angry with.

"Yeah." Atsumu's voice cracks. Thank you. "That'd be fine."

*

The next time he goes to the dining hall late at night, he makes sure it's long after anyone else would be there.

Unfortunately, the gods either really hate him or are taking a terrible shot at an apology, because Hinata's the only one inside, filling the electric kettle with water.

Hinata looks up when he hears Atsumu come in, and something flickers quickly across his face before he settles on a small smile, kind but closed-off. "Hi, Atsumu-san. I didn't know you were still awake."

Atsumu hesitates briefly at the door before making a decision and walking right in. "The bigger question is why are you still awake. Seriously, don't you have an automatic shut-off hour programmed into your system to keep you from staying up this late?"

Hinata laughs, and Atsumu is flooded with that same instant warmth whenever he's able to draw it out of him, and he hates himself for it even more. "Ah—jet lag, unfortunately." A wry smile. "My internal schedule is usually so set in stone that it takes me a while to adjust whenever I visit Japan. Most of the time, I never acclimate properly before I have to head back."

Visit, because he's only here for the Olympics, and then he's going back to Brazil after this, a full thirteen timezones away. "That sucks," Atsumu says, like an idiot.

Hinata smiles anyway. "Do you want some tea?"

They're mostly silent as they wait for the water to boil. Hinata takes the first few seconds to ready their mugs—chamomile for him, honey lemon for Atsumu, without having to ask—then leans back against the counter and tips his head back a little, closing his eyes as he takes a tired breath.

Atsumu, selfishly, takes this opportunity to study his profile, taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the lovely curl of his lashes against smooth, tanned cheeks.

He's so pretty like this. He's so fucking pretty, all the time. It makes something burn low in Atsumu's belly, something he only lets himself feel every once in a while, when he's terrible enough to use the memory of Hinata to work himself through his release. It's been so long, and everyone else in the Village is having sex, and Atsumu wants—

Hinata turns to pour the water. Atsumu hadn't even realized the kettle stopped boiling.

When Hinata slides one of the mugs across the counter over to Atsumu, he hesitates. "Atsumu-san, are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You look…" He trails off, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip, and Atsumu's eyes immediately lock in on the action. "I just want to make sure you're okay," he says finally.

Sweet, kind Hinata, always looking out for everyone else. Always taking care of everyone but himself. It makes Atsumu want to cry.

Despite being at fault, Atsumu had the rest of the Jackals to support him after Hinata left. He had his brother; his grandmother. They all knew, and they were there for him, whether he deserved it or not.

Hinata, on the other hand… Who did he have? None of his friends and family were in Brazil, and Atsumu is certain Hinata never told anyone else what happened between them because Atsumu never received any other threats.

What did that leave Hinata with? A year and a half of pretending he was fine and having no one to talk to about it with? Did anyone on his new team ever realize Hinata was nursing a broken heart? Or did they just think that this sad person is who he always is?

"Are you okay?" Atsumu asks, desperately hoping Hinata's answer will be better than his own.

Hinata looks surprised. "I'm—" he starts to say, then seems to remember who he's talking to. "I'm better," he says, and his smile is kind. "Really. I promise, Atsumu-san. You don't have to worry about me anymore."

I'm always going to worry about you.

When Atsumu doesn't respond, Hinata nods his head and starts to retreat. "I should get going. We've got an early day tomorrow, so sleep well, okay?"

You too, he thinks.

Atsumu stands there for a very long time after Hinata is gone.

By the time he takes a sip of his tea, it's already cold.

*

After the Olympics are over, Atsumu goes to the airport this time to see Hinata off, along with several of their friends and all their old teammates.

"I swear, it's fucking weird having your face on my kitchen table every morning," Meian is saying. "Next time, please choose an endorsement deal that doesn't put you on the box of a breakfast food. Or at least not my son's favorite cereal."

Inunaki grins. "It's not Hinata's fault that your kid loves him better than his own dad."

Meian glares at him. "What kind of godfather are you? You're being demoted to the annoying uncle."

"You're just saying that because he likes me better, too."

Atsumu waits in the back for the rest of them to say their goodbyes to Hinata, and when it's finally his turn, they all step away to give them some space.

It's as kind as it is awful, because even when it's just the two of them, Atsumu still has a hundred thousand things he's not allowed to say.

Hinata speaks first, when he realizes Atsumu is struggling. "It was really nice to play with you again, Atsumu-san! I missed how cool your sets are. You never let me down when we play volleyball together, not ever! It's no wonder we won."

Atsumu makes a face. "I played less sets than Tobio-kun did," he grumbles, but Hinata shakes his head.

"That's just how it worked out; he's not a better setter than you are! You're both so amazing in your own ways, and I won't hear you say anything different!"

"You shouldn't flatter me too much," Atsumu jokes to hide the unbearable warmth in his chest. "I already have a big head."

"It's well deserved," Hinata says firmly. "Just don't be annoying about it."

That startles a little laugh out of him, though it quickly falters out as they simply stare at each other for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say.

Hinata's going back to Brazil, and Atsumu should be happy for him, but he knows that if he tries to tell him good luck or say that he's rooting for him, the only thing that'll come out of his mouth is stay.

Over the intercom, they call his private flight number, and Hinata flinches, startled, before checking his phone again, just to make sure. His shoulders slump a little, but he plasters on another smile as he lifts his eyes to meet Atsumu's trembling gaze.

"That's me. I should probably…" Hinata looks a little wistful. "Take care of yourself, okay?" He starts to turn, and he manages to take a couple steps, but then Atsumu is surging forward, grabbing his wrist despite all those awful rules he has about touch, and it's electricity, and fire, and it hurts like hell but he doesn't ever want it to stop.

"Wait! I—" He breaks off. Hesitates. "I… I—"

"Atsumu-san?"

"I'm—really sorry, Shouyou," he says finally. He swallows like it's taking everything inside him not to cry. "I'm really, really sorry."

Hinata's smile is sad, and far too lovely, and Atsumu knows this moment will be burned into his mind for the rest of his life. "Me too, Atsumu-san. Me too."

Time passes slowly.

The Jackals claim another championship, then lose one. They eventually take it back.

Atsumu spends a lot of his off time back in Sayou with Osamu, helping their grandmother with her garden and doing odd jobs around the house. She insists she's not getting old, but she lets them pamper her anyway, and sometimes, in rare moments, she'll look at him so softly and tell him she's proud of him for no reason at all.

They watch all of Hinata's games. At first, they came across one purely by accident, and Osamu hurried to change the channel when Atsumu told him to stop.

"I want to see it," he said. And so they did. And then they do. And somehow it becomes tradition, that they watch all recordings together, usually sprawled around their grandmother's living room while eating annoyingly good snacks that Osamu whips up for them that Atsumu pointedly refuses to compliment him for.

He never has to watch one alone.

He still sees Hinata for world tournaments. They win far more than they don't. Even after all this time, it feels so good for them to play together, like their souls can still sync effortlessly, like they hadn't lost all these years, like Atsumu doesn't miss him so much most days it's hard to remember why they can't be together.

"It might be easier," Osamu says one day, when he sits with Atsumu after Hinata has left again, trying to pretend he's not hurting, "if you tried to let go. Move on." A pause. "Find someone else."

"No," Atsumu says instantly. He doesn't want anyone else. He's not ready. He's not sure if he'll ever be ready, but it's definitely not now, when he can still remember the weight of Hinata's head on his chest. When he can still dream about the way Hinata would look so happy whenever they kissed, like there was nothing else he wanted in the world.

Osamu studies him carefully then nods once. "Okay," he says. He never brings it up again.

When they turn twenty-nine, Osamu gets married in a simple ceremony by the Sayou Hozoji sunflower fields. He invites Hinata, at Atsumu's request, but Hinata has a regional tournament to attend and can't make it for the weekend the way he hoped he could.

Atsumu has done a good job over the years no longer crying when his heart feels like it's too much. This time, watching his brother get married to the love of his life in a field Atsumu once promised to show his, he can't prevent it when something in his chest cracks.

"Oh, Atsumu." His grandmother is gentle as he curls his face into her, because this is Osamu's day, and Osamu's put off so much to take care of Atsumu, and he deserves this, more than anything.

"I'm happy for him," he chokes out. "I'm really, really happy for him, Gran. This is everything."

Her voice is sad. "I want you to be happy, too."

Atsumu laughs, but it's weak, and he feels like he's ten years old again, crying into her stomach because kids were mean to Osamu again and he wasn't there to protect him and he'd never felt so useless to learn about it after the fact. "I don't know if I remember how."

"I think," his grandmother says quietly, fingers trailing through the grown-out tips of his dyed blond hair, "that you have to be brave."

Russia is surprisingly nice.

That's the first thing Atsumu thinks as he stands in front of the training facility of his new team. Considering he doesn't speak much of the language aside from the quick lessons he picked up before he left Japan, he had to let management take care of everything, including picking his apartment, arranging for a ride from the airport, and pretty much taking him anywhere until he's familiar enough with the area not to get lost every other day.

"Stop being nervous," Osamu says, his voice distant over the phone, like he's on speaker, a pro when it comes to multitasking while he calms Atsumu down. That is probably an Olympic sport of its own. "You already made the move and there's no turning back. You're a Russian player now. Embrace it."

"But Gran—"

"She'll live until she's a hundred and three," Osamu reminds him. "Stop using her as an excuse to cling to Kansai. You're thirty-one. Grow a backbone, will you?"

Atsumu scowls, knowing Osamu will be able to hear it. "You're such an ass. I called you for emotional support, not to be heavily berated."

"Tough love is the only thing that gets you out the door," Osamu says solemnly.

"Married life makes you mean."

"I'm always mean. It's just that no one ever believes you."

"So true." But he also grins, already feeling the knot of tension ease slightly in his chest. For all the crap Atsumu gives him, Osamu really is a great brother. "Will you sing to make me feel better?"

"Goodbye," Osamu says, and hangs up the phone.

Eventually, one of the team executives finds Atsumu and takes him on a brief tour of the arena, from its upgraded locker rooms to its ridiculously gorgeous gymnasium. While he holds a certain fondness about the MSBY gym after being there for so many years, even he has to admit that the older practice arena in Osaka has nothing on the more modern stadium here in Kazan.

"You look surprised," Kozlov chuckles in near-perfect Japanese. He tried to speak English to Atsumu when they first met, since it's more universal and many international players learn when they start their careers, but Atsumu's English is scarcely better than his Russian—something he is definitely now regretting, considering how easy it would've been to learn when he was still with the Jackals.

He just never thought he'd ever leave Japan before.

Until now.

"Just… impressed," Atsumu says. "I'm pumped to get started with the team. Are they in today?"

"Nah, regular practices don't start up again until next week. You're only here to meet with the coach and fill out some paperwork, along with the other new player we have coming in today."

Atsumu perks up. "Another player?"

"Oh, hell yeah! Do you have any idea how excited we are about this? The fact that we poached two international legends from different leagues at the same time is fantastic, considering we've been empty on foreign players since Bolivar left. But the fact that they're both Japanese? And with your chemistry?" Kozlov grins. "It'll be insane. We're very particular about foreign talent in our home, if you didn't know."

Oh, Atsumu knows. It's one of the things that stood out to him when he looked up the Super League. He made fun of Hinata, before, for wanting to play in a place like this, because he was ignorant and maybe a little elitist and far too attached to home. Now he knows better.

It makes sense that this is one of the countries Hinata wanted to play in most. Only the best international talent is scouted for volleyball teams in Russia. Making it here is already a milestone on its own.

But of course Atsumu wont stop here.

He wants to win it all.

He's about to say so, more than happy to use his confidence in his volleyball skills to mask any anxiety he has hidden about living in another country for the first time, without his family, without his friends, without any of the steady things that normally keep him grounded—but then he pauses, something Kozlov said clicking in his head.

"What do you mean, our chemistry?" Atsumu quotes.

Kozlov raises a brow. "You didn't hear? I assumed you were friends, considering you're on Japan's national team together. Yeah, it was a real shock that we got him for all that he's a world superstar in Brazil right now."

Wait. Brazil? But that's—

"Atsumu-san?"

Everything around them comes to a stop.

The last time Atsumu felt this thrown off-guard, he'd been twenty-four, shoved up against a locker in the team changeroom by one of his closest friends, head craned to the side where he could watch, with growing horror, as the love of his life fell apart.

He hadn't been able to do anything then. He was weak; afraid.

This time he's just as stunned, but the overflow of emotions—and the tremor gripping his spine—is completely different.

"Shouyou-kun?"

"Aha! I knew you two knew each other," Kozlov laughs, but Atsumu never takes his eyes off the boy standing several feet away from him, a similarly stunned look on his face.

Hinata looks… Not different, not when Atsumu's kept up with his career so much over the years and has played with him several times in a few global tournaments—but somehow still not the same. Somehow still impossibly beautiful.

"W… What are you doing here?" Hinata asks shakily. He keeps staring at Atsumu, too, like he can't bring himself to look away, but he doesn't seem upset by his presence. More like… in awe. Reverent. Like this is the last thing he expected and he still can't believe it's real.

Atsumu tries not to let hope bubble up in his chest. Tries—and ultimately fails. "What else would I be here to do?" he says lightly, teasingly. "Play volleyball, of course."

Hinata's eyes are sparkling whiskey and Atsumu's fucking drunk on them with just a taste. "Me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They're both grinning now, and it feels surreal, that this is happening—that they're here together, and it brightens instead of burns—and Atsumu wants—

They're interrupted by a strange ringing sound, jolting them both out of their reverie. Kozlov looks at his phone and grimaces with a groan. "Ugh—alright, I gotta take this. Miya, do you mind taking Hinata around to see the gym and I'll meet you there?"

"Not at all." He grins at Hinata as if to say you're stuck with me now. Hinata grins back.

If Atsumu were being honest, he has no idea where he is leading Hinata. He'd barely paid attention to directions earlier and now he's barely paying attention to the halls at all. How can he, when Hinata Shouyou is here, brighter than the sun, sneaking wide-eyed glances over at Atsumu as they walk, like he still can't believe this? How can he ever pay attention to anything else again?

"I never thought you'd actually leave Japan," Hinata says, sounding spellbound.

"I never thought I would either," Atsumu admits. "I thought I'd start and end my career there, maybe with a rotating team. But then 'Samu got married and Gran told me I had to be brave, and I realized I wasn't staying in Japan because I was happy. I was staying because I was scared. And I was tired of being scared. So…"

"Wait… when Osamu-san got married?" Hinata's brows pull together. "Wasn't that two years ago?"

"It was."

"You've been planning on changing leagues for two years?"

"That's right. Might've switched over earlier, but there were no teams that interested me here in Russia until now."

Atsumu doesn't realize Hinata stopped walking until there are no longer footsteps following at his side. Surprised, he stops to turn around, and the look on Hinata's face… It's not unreadable, not closed off, but it's like Atsumu is missing a page because he can't decipher it anyway. When Hinata speaks, his voice shakes. "And it had to be Russia?"

You have to be brave, he remembers his grandmother telling him. "Of course. Aside from Brazil, this is where you wanted to play most, after all."

Hinata continues to stare at him, eyes shining. "Why would that even matter?"

Run forward. Take the leap. "Because I'm still in love with you."

Hinata sucks in a sharp breath, but it—it isn't startled. It's more like he's… relieved, and that's—

Suddenly Atsumu is being pushed backwards, and he's so startled that he stumbles along until Hinata shoves him through a door behind him, and then he's whirled around and pinned against it, not even having a chance to glance around whatever room they've walked into because Hinata is pulling him down to crush together their lips.

It's like no time has passed. Atsumu falls into the kiss like he's diving off a cliff, and Hinata opens up perfectly for him, his lips as soft as Atsumu remembers, his mouth as perfect, just as sweet, and when Atsumu finally slides his tongue inside, it's like coming home. The way Hinata clings to his shoulders and fits perfectly into his waist and whimpers as Atsumu pulls him closer, hands grappling for more, greedy and desperate… This is his home.

"Stupid Atsumu-san," Hinata breathes against Atsumu's lips between hot, open-mouthed kisses that make his knees weak. "Stupid, stupid… After all these years, this is when you decide to tell me you love me?"

Atsumu chokes on a little laugh, and it's wonderful, and he cradles Hinata's face in his hands and kisses him some more. "As if you didn't already know."

"But I didn't!" Hinata stresses. "For the longest time, I had no idea how you really felt! I knew you cared about me, and I knew you felt awful for hurting me. But when it came to figuring out what was fake and what was real… I didn't trust myself to be realistic, not when I missed you so much I would've done anything for a reason to chase after you again. It wasn't until I saw you again that first time after I left, during the initial training camp for the national team, when I realized…" He takes a deep breath. "It was only then that I knew it was real for you, too. That it was never a game. That you felt the same way."

Atsumu stills. "But that… That wasn't for months. We didn't see each other at that first camp until months after you left."

Hinata offers a sad smile. "It was a really hard few months."

Remorse clouds his every breath. "God. I'm so fucking sorry. I—I know I don't deserve this—I know I'm stupid, and selfish, and needy, and rude—but I'm in love with you, Shouyou, and I'll tell you every day if that's what you need. If you'll let me be with you. If I can—"

"Yes!" Hinata cries. "Yes, of course, are you an idiot? I love you too, haven't I told you?"

Atsumu is speechless. "But—I hurt you—"

"You hurt me and then you locked yourself away!" Hinata says heatedly. "You hurt me and then you punished yourself, and I couldn't even get near you without you making that face—like I was tearing you apart. Don't you get how hard it was for me to see you like that? I couldn't do it anymore, and I knew it was just as hard for you. But when I left, I took the time to put myself back together, and you still so looked broken every time we were in the same room, so how was I supposed to keep loving you if I was the one breaking you down?"

Atsumu stares, still not comprehending. "Are you saying… this whole time—"

"I've always wanted you, Atsumu-san. I've said that so many times. I thought you were the one who didn't want me anymore. After I left for Brazil, you didn't even try to reach out. I had to find out how you were through Bokuto-san."

"I—I thought you were upset with me," Atsumu stammers. "I didn't think you wanted me to reach out."

Hinata falls back onto his heels, and Atsumu didn't even realize he was on his toes until he's back to his regular height, staring up at Atsumu with eyes that practically glow. "I waited for you forever, but you never… I thought that meant you were giving up on me. That it hurt too much, when I left you, and you didn't think anything between us was salvageable. That hurt me, too, but I couldn't blame you for it. Not if you felt like I left you behind."

"But you did," Atsumu says, only for Hinata to shake his head, expression unwavering.

"I left because it wasn't healthy for us to be near each other when we felt as raw as we did. I tried to tell you that, before I had to go. That I never blamed you for lying to me, and the only reason I had to leave you as because I needed to heal, not flee. But then at the Olympics, and every moment before, and then every moment after… You still looked so sad, and I thought, is this how you're always like now? Or is it just when you're around me?"

Atsumu's breath catches, but this time not for good reasons. "And you thought I'd be better off without you?"

"I thought maybe it would be easier, for you to love again, if it wasn't with someone you would never stop feeling guilty for hurting." Hinata drops his eyes to Atsumu's shirt for a moment, before forcing them back up, as if to prove he's learned how to stop looking down when he's wounded. "I thought the kindest thing I could do was stop being a living reminder of all the things you did wrong. So I decided to let you go. And you… you let me."

The looks in his eyes is so fucking sad, and Atsumu hates it. Hates being the reason for it. "Shouyou-kun—"

"But now you're here in Russia when I never thought you'd leave Japan, and this is the first time you've ever looked happy to see me since we broke up, and I…" He leans forward, into Atsumu's embrace, and Atsumu tightens his hold, never wanting to let go. "Is this real? Is it a dream? That you're here, on the same team, ready to play with me again?"

"It's real," Atsumu breathes into his hair. "I'm here, and I love you so much."

"We might be different people."

"I know."

"It's been a really long time."

"I know that, too."

"And you still want to do this? You still want to be with me?" Hinata leans back a little to stare up at Atsumu with those big, beautiful eyes of his, and Atsumu draws him in for a kiss, wanting so badly to prove it to him.

"I do," he whispers. "More than anything. There's nothing I've ever wanted more."