Chapter Text
He trailed his fingertips over the windowsill, thinking it would be the perfect spot for a plant or two. Succulents, to start. He’d never taken care of plants before, but he was buzzing with the need to decorate this new space.
Atsumu pressed himself against his back, nose poking at Kiyoomi’s neck. “You like?”
“Yes.” He had to admit that Atsumu had chosen their new apartment well. Kiyoomi couldn’t wait to bring his things over and start organizing them. He’d already started mentally taking note of all the things they’d need, mind already going over all the things he still had to buy. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders. “I need stackable boxes and shelves and somewhere to put all our skincare.”
“Okay.”
“And a nice rug, and some throw pillows.”
“Okay.”
“And a wooden stool or ladder for my plants.”
Atsumu paused. “Plants.”
“Yes, I also want plants.”
“Er — okay.” Atsumu smiled. “You’re forgetting something.”
He blinked at him.
“Stuff for Isla, remember?”
He gasped, straightening up. “Atsu, Isla!” He had completely forgotten — he was already a bad dog father. He’d been so deep in his misery that everything else had slipped his mind.
Atsumu laughed. “She’s fine, I called the place where they’re keeping her a few days ago. She’s healthy, but she misses us.”
“She does?” he choked out, tearing up.
“Of course she does. We can call again later.” Atsumu kissed him on the cheek. “Two more months.”
“That’s so long,” he whined.
“All the more time to prepare for her arrival.”
Excitement filled him. The future he’d daydreamed about while he was still on that island was slowly coming together. Kiyoomi ran his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, gazing at his face in fondness. “You did good,” he said.
“Yeah?” Atsumu looked both hopeful and proud.
“Yeah.”
“Then we can fuck on every room of our new home, right?”
What an incorrigible bastard. “We have to clean everything first. Every inch of this place, I mean it.”
“Deal.”
They both got what they wanted that night. After, they squeezed themselves into a futon, the first and only item that made their empty bedroom a home, and slept intertwined.
--
The awkwardness was palpable as they sat with their families in a restaurant in Osaka. Kiyoomi had insisted that his parents and siblings visited him for lunch, saying that he had an urgent announcement. He didn’t know what Atsumu told his, but they were here nonetheless, looking confused.
The difference between their backgrounds couldn’t be any more obvious at that moment. Kiyoomi’s family had arrived fashionably late via car, wearing business casual attire and sunglasses. He wanted to kill them. His mother’s and sister’s hells click-clacked on the floor as they made their way over to the table where they were all waiting, his father and brother following more leisurely.
In contrast, Atsumu’s parents had arrived early, dressed down and wearing wide smiles. They had greeted Atsumu with loud, teasing remarks and big hugs, while Osamu stood to the side, looking exasperated and bored. Atsumu’s mother had turned to Kiyoomi with a curious but friendly expression, pinching his cheek when he was introduced. “Yes, of course, Tsumu’s little teammate!”
He sent a baffled glance to Atsumu, who shook his head in mortification. “She still thinks we’re children.”
“You are children,” she announced. “Anyway, what’s this about?”
“Uh,” Atsumu rubbed his chin. “Let’s wait until everyone’s here.”
Osamu eyed Kiyoomi. “So, I hope there are no hard feelings or whatever.”
“It’s nothing.” He was mature enough to understand that Osamu meant well, and that he may have had a point. But he drew the line at admitting that.
So now here they were, gathered together, and the silence was getting a bit much.
Kiyoomi’s father finally cleared his throat. “Son, why don’t you tell us what this is about?”
He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. There were high chances his family would cause a scandal and he was hoping the public setting would dissuade that, even though being outside made him paranoid. He opened his mouth then snapped it closed.
A warm hand engulfed his. Atsumu gave him an encouraging look then faced his father. “Sakusa-san, I would like to ask permission to marry your son.”
His mother dropped her wine. The sound of shattering glass silenced the entire restaurant.
Kiyoomi cleared his throat in the ensuing silence, giving Atsumu a displeased look. “It’s not a request. I’m marrying Atsumu, I just wanted to let you know.”
“You just wanted...to let us know,” his sister said slowly. Her eyes flicked to his hand. “That you’re — you’re engaged to be married to — to —”
“Atsumu, yes.”
His brother was staring at his fiance in bewilderment. “Who even are you?”
He scowled at that. “Don’t talk to him like that. He’s my teammate. Stop acting like you don’t know him when you follow all his social media accounts.”
There was a pause in the conversation when a waiter arrived to clean up the broken glass and replace it.
When he was gone, Atsumu’s mother said, “Listen boys, this is all just a surprise to us. We didn’t even know you were in a relationship.”
“Is this true, son?” Atsumu’s father was frowning at him. Then he glanced at Osamu. “Did you know?”
Osamu shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”
“How long has this been going on?” Kiyoomi’s mother finally demanded.
He took a deep breath. “We’ve been together for five months now, engaged for two.”
“Five months…” His mother’s eyes were wide. “So it happened on that island.”
“Yes.”
His father leaned in, taking advantage of his imposing figure. “Kiyoomi, you will stop it this instant. You are not making serious life decisions based on some random fling.”
“It’s not a fling,” he cut in heatedly. He wanted to say so much, but why should he explain himself? What would he even say? He settled with, “I love him.”
“Oh Lord,” his brother said. “He’s lost it.”
“Is he the reason you got a tattoo?” his mother asked with a narrow-eyed glare at Atsumu. “Do you have one, too? People will say you’re yakuza!”
“He’s really lost it,” his brother emphasized.
Irritation bubbled up in Kiyoomi. “Can you stop treating me like a child? I’m 23. I'm an adult.”
“You’re getting married to...some volleyball guy and underwear model,” his sister said, seemingly trying to grasp it. “Who appears in magazines and posters and billboards. And sometimes in tabloids —”
Atsumu rubbed his forehead. “I can explain those —”
“—who goes viral for the most idiotic things, and who didn’t even go to college —”
“Okay,” Osamu interrupted. “I understand you’re upset but you talking down on Atsumu is hella shitty. He’s an idiot, but he’s a good guy.”
“I’m a volleyball guy who also appears in magazines and billboards,” Kiyoomi reminded her. He cupped Atsumu’s cheek and turned his head to face him. “I’m so sorry about them, they’re horrible snobby people. There’s a reason I couldn’t stand to be around them for too long.”
Atsumu touched their noses together sweetly, making Kiyoomi smile. “It’s fine, baby. I’m used to your snottiness, I knew what to expect.”
“Hey,” he protested.
“You’ve said worse things to me…the amount of times you’ve cursed me alone...”
He snorted. “You deserved it. Hayop ka kasi.”
Atsumu huffed out a startled laugh. “Oo na, mahal."
He blushed violently at the pet name. “Alis na tayo.”
“Mamaya.” Atsumu kissed the corner of his mouth, then once again turned to face their families, who were staring at them like they’ve grown another head. “We’re hoping to get married next spring. We would like your blessing and your presence when the day comes, but we’re gonna do it either way. Uh, sorry.”
“Can you even provide for my son?” Kiyoomi’s father asked coldly.
“I can provide for myself,” he snapped. “What do you think of me?”
“Can you take care of him?” his mother demanded. “He has a condition —”
“I know all about that,” Atsumu assured, before Kiyoomi could say that he could take care of himself. “We were stuck together for seven months, as you know.”
“He helped me a lot, okay?” he said, calmer now. There was no use losing his temper, he wouldn’t get his way with that. “I had a lot less to worry about because he was there.”
Atsumu smiled at him warmly. He smiled back helplessly. Kiyoomi from seven months ago would probably smack the Kiyoomi now. He was vaguely disgusted with himself.
“Well,” Atsumu’s father began. “It looks like you’ve both made up your mind. I know better than to try Tsumu’s mind when he’s decided on something.”
“It just feels like it happened so fast,” Atsumu’s mother murmured. She teared up. “My baby.”
Osamu rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”
“My baby is going to get married,” she sniffled.
Kiyoomi sent a mirthful glance to Atsumu, who looked embarrassed. “Oh, come on…”
His father cleared his throat. “I do not want to be at odds with you over this, Kiyoomi. We don’t accept this yet, but we won’t get in the way. Until the time comes that you change your mind, you won’t be hearing from us.”
“Fine,” he shot back. “Don’t hold your breath. If it’s a choice between you or Atsumu, I’d always choose Atsumu. I just wanted to see if there was a chance I wouldn’t have to choose at all.”
“Kiyoomi,” his mother interrupted. “We’re just saying, you’ve been together for only a handful of months and the circumstances...how can you be so sure this will end well?”
“I’m not. But I’m taking a leap of faith.” He stood up, his chair nearly falling to the ground. “Let’s go, Atsu.”
Atsumu followed him without hesitation. They picked up their coats and made their way out of the restaurant, leaving the bill spitefully.
He shoved his coat on and stomped angrily down the street before he was halted by Atsumu with a hand on his arm.
“I’m so sorry,” Atsumu said miserably.
“Don’t be,” he fumed. He breathed in the cold winter air and exhaled, his breath coming out in a cloud. “I knew they’d react that way. I also know they’ll cool off eventually. And if they don’t — I don’t care. I’ll be fine.”
They wrapped their arms around each other, reassuring themselves that yes, they wanted this. They were choosing this.
“Let’s go pick up our photos,” Atsumu said, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Okay.”
They put their face masks back on first before making the commute to the photo shop they found near their apartment. Armed with a CD and a thick envelope of photos and their rolls of negatives, they walked hand in hand the rest of the way back, talking idly.
“Oh, by the way, I hired an editor to deal with our videos,” Atsumu informed him.
“Okay then.”
“He’ll send the first video in a couple weeks or something.”
He raised an eyebrow. “First video? How many are there?”
“There’s a lot of footage, okay? And we went to many places!”
“Is it safe to assume there'll be at least one video for each place we visited?”
Atsumu’s pout told him all he needed to know.
“Put it on YouTube,” he advised. “We can earn from this.”
“Of course you’d think that.”
“We can use our photos to hype up the first episode, drop hints about our relationship. Make sure everyone’s curious and eager to tune in by the time it drops. If we stagger the posting of the videos, we should reach a hundred thousand subscribers in a month.”
“Putting your degree to good use, huh?”
He shrugged. “This is nothing yet. Somewhere down the line, let’s start a business. Well, I’ll handle the business part, you can be the face of our company. Your body sells.”
“Gee, thanks. What business?”
“Dunno yet...let’s think about it. No rush.”
“Okay, sounds fun. And is there a reason you’re suddenly plotting to make more money?”
“Because I want a beach house in El Nido.”
Atsumu stopped in his tracks and turned to him slowly. “Did you read my mind?”
“What?” He faced Atsumu in confusion.
“Have you been sneaking around in my phone?” Atsumu asked suspiciously.
“Why would I do that? Are you hiding something?” he demanded. “Maybe I will, don’t think I don’t know your passcode.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Atsumu grumbled. “But...I asked a favor from Maria and the girls, they’re looking around for available lots and they’ve been sending me pictures.”
Kiyoomi gaped at him. “Wait, we’re really gonna have a beach house? What the hell? Can we even afford that right now?”
“Well, all the money I saved up from modeling gigs have to go somewhere. And you have to know I’ve been earning my own money since I was 18. I didn’t grow up rich, you know. I save.” He grinned. “I mean, it won’t be built anytime soon. There’s lots of papers to handle, like permits, and stuff...and I have to figure out costing... I’m just browsing for now. But I’ll make it happen, you’ll see.”
“Of course you will.” Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu, wondering what he did to get so lucky. The differences between them were so stark sometimes, but it was during these times he was reminded that despite it all, they share the same goals.
And now they were building a future. Together.
Kiyoomi knew for sure that they’d make it. Between the two of them, there was no room for failure. Not after everything they've been through.
Atsumu gave him a condescending glance. “Aren’t you glad I’m so hot now?”
He snapped out of it. Every single time he felt gooey over the love of his life, the love of his life reminded him that he was an idiot. “That’s subjective.”
They resumed walking.
“If I’m not objectively hot then why do I get stalkers?”
“Who the fuck —”
“Remember that girl last year...”
And on they went.
--
The pictures turned out to be amazing.
Not all of them — there were overexposed photos, and dark, grainy photos, and photos they must have snapped on accident because there was no clear subject.
There were a series of photos that were completely blank, and he was willing to bet that was that time Atsumu had opened the camera, accidentally exposing the film to the sun, because he thought there wasn’t a roll inside.
As he’d predicted, a lot of the photos turned out to be out of focus. Some were blurry, some had light leaks, some had fogging, some didn’t really make sense.
He loved them.
“I told you it would be fine,” Atsumu said.
They were on their bed, Atsumu leaning back against Kiyoomi as he clicked through the soft copy of their photos on his laptop. Kiyoomi was brushing Atsumu’s hair, marveling at the fine, silky strands so different from his own.
“We’re going public, right? You’re sure about that, right?” Atsumu checked. “‘Cause I so want to post these. Keeping it to ourselves would be a sin, Omi.”
“Yeah, but maybe wait a while? I’m enjoying this peace. Is the video even ready yet?” He flicked his eyes to the screen just in time to see one that he’d taken. He reached down and halted Atsumu’s hand. “Wait. I like that. I wanna post that.”
“That...is me skinny dipping. Omi.”
“What? It’s not like your dick is showing. Your ass isn’t even showing, it’s under the water.” In the photo, Atsumu was hips-deep in sea water, his back to the camera, head turned sideways. It was the one he took when they went skinny dipping before leaving El Nido. Kiyoomi took a moment to admire Atsumu’s muscled back, his sharp profile softened by the softly-lit skies.
“I am obviously not wearing anything, if I was, the garter of my beach shorts would be right there.” Atsumu jabbed a finger on the screen.
“You literally show off your bulge in spreads, you’re getting conscious now?”
Atsumu paused. “Oh yeah.”
“I won’t post it if you really don’t want me to.”
“Oh, what the hell,” Atsumu sighed. “Post what you want. I suppose it’s a nice picture.”
“It is.”
“But only if I can post anything I want, too. And you can’t complain.”
He considered it. He just knew Atsumu had a lot of embarrassing photos of him, and that he hasn’t even seen most of it. After some thought, he decided he only cared about what Atsumu thought about him, and he’d like Kiyoomi no matter what anyway. “Fine.”
“Deal.”
“In a couple months, okay?” Kiyoomi said, resuming his brushing. “I’m not conditioned to handle all the PR and media stuff yet.”
“No problem. We can take our time.”
--
He dipped a finger in the soil of his potted plant, watering it when he felt it was too dry. He had to be very careful about this — Atsumu said he couldn’t get more plants until he proved he could keep one alive. Kiyoomi was a little worried about the sunlight it was supposed to be getting. It was January and it was deathly cold — does sunlight still seep through the clouds during winter? He probably should have researched that first.
He heard the door open just as he was checking the leaves. They didn’t seem to be wilting.
“Omi?” Atsumu called out.
“I’m watering Jose,” he called back. He was relieved to have Atsumu home — he wasn’t pleased that he’d gone back to attending photoshoots. And not just for ads. Magazines and websites couldn’t get enough of his new look, and wanted to interview him about his “island adventures” and “lockdown stories.”
He was only appeased when Atsumu promised him he’d follow all the safety protocols Kiyoomi had set for him, and that he wouldn’t allow anyone without a mask within several feet of him.
They would interview Kiyoomi, too, if he bothered replying to the emails. The team’s manager was about to rip her hair off out of frustration with him. But he said he’d only do interviews when he and Atsumu were out to the public and they could actually tell the truth of what went on. He wanted to tell the story on his terms.
A strange pattering sound against the hardwood floor caught his attention. Confused, he turned around only to drop his sprinkler on the ground.
“Isla?”
Isla was running towards him without any sign of struggle and he fell to his knees to greet her. He scooped her up in his arms when she reached him, tears already building in his eyes.
“Surprise,” Atsumu said with a grin, holding his phone up, presumably filming.
“But I thought we were going to get her this weekend,” he said in a wobbly voice.
“I lied. Wanted to surprise you.”
He smiled helplessly as Isla started licking his cheek. He hugged her closer, sniffling. “She’s so big now.”
“Yeah, dunno what the hell they’ve been feeding her. She’s goddamn heavy.”
“Hi Isla,” he greeted her enthusiastically. She barked at him in reply. Her tail was wagging so hard, it was shaking her whole body. “What’s that? You missed me?”
“I told you she did,” Atsumu said. He knelt down beside them and patted Isla’s head. “Hey, girl. We missed you, too. Now our family is complete.”
Kiyoomi poked his nose against Isla’s. He missed her so much. He could hardly believe she was here.
Atsumu stroked his cheek with his knuckles. “Are you happy, Omi-Omi?”
He nodded earnestly. Then he paused. He was happy, he was unbelievably, impossibly happy, but there was one more thing he wanted. “Almost.”
Atsumu’s forehead creased.
“We’re still missing a cat.”
“A cat—?”
“Isla needs a friend.” He widened his eyes at Atsumu pleadingly.
“You really want to kill me,” Atsumu said, sounding pained. “Omi…”
Kiyoomi kissed him on the mouth enthusiastically. “Thank you, Atsu.”
Atsumu sighed in defeat.
He got his cat the next day.
They named him Dagat, the Tagalog word for ‘sea.’
--
There were so many changes that’s been happening in his life lately: moving in with Atsumu, decorating their apartment, attending volleyball practice, and then making room for Isla and Dagat.
So he was confused when Atsumu sat down next to him, carrying his laptop, looking shy.
“What is it?”
“Well...remember the videos?”
“Oh.” He blinked. “I completely forgot.”
“I figured. Well, it took forever to edit the first one because...well, you’ll see. I wanted it to be perfect. I’m ready to show you now.”
The video was a four-minute compilation of their stay in El Nido, and he knew from the first second that Atsumu really poured a lot of effort into it, because the sound of guitar strings was the first thing he heard. He knew without a doubt it was Atsumu playing.
He was familiar with the song. It was by an OPM band in the Philippines and it was titled “Paraiso.” Atsumu must have decided to cover it to avoid running into copyright issues. When he started singing, he noticed the English and Japanese subtitles on the screen and turned to Atsumu for answers.
Atsumu scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I asked help from Maria and Lydia. Translating is still a pain, I still have a long way to go with the language.”
Kiyoomi played it again from the start. He’d thought that the video would be a fun vlog packed with their tour adventures, but it wasn’t that at all. The slow romantic song set the tone, and he watched as all their moments filled the screen — everything from mundane, to intimate, to fun. There were walks on the beach, motorcycle rides around town, and jumping into glimmering turquoise waters. There were soft kisses and hand-holding and cuddles. There were rollerskating adventures, bike rides, and dancing. There were smiles, soft and genuine. There was laughter, the kind that had them out of breath. And of course, there were eye rolls and sighs and arguments.
It was their love story, pure and simple. And it ended with a clip of his proposal, taken by someone hiding in the resort.
The whole thing was unassuming and tender and special and everything Kiyoomi never realized he wanted. And the way Atsumu was singing the lyrics was clear he meant the words. It shot him straight in the heart. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.
This was no simple compilation video. This was Atsumu’s love letter to Kiyoomi.
He was in tears when it was over, overcome.
“That was nice,” he said thickly when they were quiet for too long. Understatement of the century. Words always failed him when he needed them.
Atsumu nuzzled the curve of Kiyoomi’s neck. “Can I post it?”
“I’d like that.”
He was ready now.
He’d never been showy with his affection, or even verbal with his love, but at that moment, he wanted to share with the world the piece of immeasurable happiness he’d found. He wanted them to understand — he’d found a once in a lifetime kind of love.
He was the luckiest person in the world.
--
After texting a heads up to Foster, Atsumu posted the first picture.
It was innocent enough, but highly suspicious. Kiyoomi was shown tugging at Atsumu’s hand, leading him to the beach.
A few days later, Kiyoomi posted the photo of Atsumu skinny dipping. That nearly broke the internet, to Atsumu’ smug pleasure.
It was the third photo, posted by both of them, that really sent the public into a frenzy. Kiyoomi was pointing his film camera to a mirror as he and Atsumu shared a kiss in their cabin in Baguio.
They let the photo simmer overnight. Come next morning, they were in news headlines and each of their posts had reached two million likes. Atsumu followed it up by posting the El Nido video.
In the description, he wrote: "For Kiyoomi, my paradise — Nag-iisang hiling at ikaw ang himala."