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“Do ya think Ma would notice?” Osamu asks as she reaches the top drawer of their mom’s dresser.
“Nah. We’ll clean it up and Ma is usually way too tired after work to notice somethin’ like this anyway.”
Osamu mumbles under her breath, clearly nervous, but she’s not a quitter, she reminds herself. Plus, the amount of nervousness she feels doesn’t even come close to the excitement that starts to bubble up in her chest when her eyes find the light pink nail polish she’s seen their mom put on countless times before important events.
“Did ya find the makeup bag? It should be the brown one at the bottom.” Atsumu walks over from the door of their mom's bedroom to where Osamu is standing and looks over their sister’s shoulder curiously to see for themself. They grab the bag impatiently and make a beeline to the living room.
“C’mon, we don’t have all the time in the world, y’know. She can come back anytime now.”
“I know. I’m coming.” Osamu huffs a breath and mindlessly follows their twin, still entranced by the nail polish they’ve been clutching in their hand.
She finds Atsumu already sitting in the middle of the room with his legs crossed, eyes glazing over what’s inside the bag.
“Do you even know how to use all that stuff?”
“No,” Atsumu replies, defensive “but that’s like the whole point. We are just gonna try and see if we like it.”
Osamu crouches next to Atsumu on the floor.
“Okay, so where do we start—“
They both freeze with the sound of three firm knocks on the door.
“Fuck,” Osamu breathes as she watches Atsumu’s poor attempt to hide the makeup bag behind the couch. “Give the bag to me, we should put it back in the drawer!” She stands up to get the bag from her twin, who almost shouts in contrast to Osamu’s whispering voice.
“‘Samu are ya fuckin’ nuts? We don’t have enough time—”
“I can hear you two, you know? Now can you open the door so I can stop standing here like an idiot? Our electricity shut down, so I came here to hang out and study.”
The twins look at each other, both in relief and shock.
“Rin?”
“Yeah, yeah. Can you let me in now?”
Atsumu hides the bag behind himself and Osamu walks towards the door and opens it to reveal one Suna Rintarou, standing with a black backpack hanging from his left shoulder and a tired expression on his face.
“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” Suna squints his eyes at them as he enters the house, throwing his backpack on the couch. “What’s going on?”
“What? Nothin’. Nothing’s going on.”
Suna ignores Atsumu’s poor attempt to lie and his eyes find the brown bag poking through Atsumu’s back.
“What’s that?”
Right then, Osamu and Atsumu lock eyes and share a moment of twin telephaty.
Do you think we should tell him?
Maybe? Would he tell the team?
They’re gonna find out eventually. And he’s too observant for his own good so…
They don’t realize Suna snatching the bag from Atsumu’s grasp soon enough. When they open their mouths to react, Suna already has the bag open, looking inside curiously.
“Makeup? Huh?” Then his eyes roam between one guilty looking Osamu to a similar Atsumu.
“Oh.”
Then Atsumu starts babbling.
“Look, don’t fuckin’ tell anyone, but we’re trans, okay. ‘Samu is a girl and I’m non-binary, which means I’m not a boy, but not a girl either, at least not entirely—“
“Atsumu, I know what non-binary means.” Suna interrupts with a chuckle. The expression he has is not something the twins are used to. His eyes are soft with understanding and symphaty, and his lips curl with a gentle smile.
“Huh?”
Suna looks both of the twins again, and sighs softly. His hands pull at the collar of his shirt to reveal the strap of— his binder?
Atsumu’s eyes go wide as Osamu chokes out a surprised “what”.
A moment passes.
“You're trans?!”
Suna adjusts his shirt and shrugs, nonchalant.
“Yeah. Honestly, I thought the whole team kinda knew? I am not exactly closeted. Kita-san knows, and I change separately anyway so I thought everyone else would just connect the dots.” he smirks.
Osamu raises an eyebrow “Uh. That’s— that’s really good to know actually. So, Kita-san doesn’t mind?”
“Of course not—“ Suna takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. “If you decide to come out or whatever— If anyone says anything, the team’s got your backs, okay? You are not alone. I got your backs too, and I know you got mine. We gotta stick together.”
This is probably the first time the twins are seeing Suna being this sincere with his words. But they know. They’ve got to stick together. Safety washes over Osamu and Atsumu. The three just stand there for a while, letting the whole situation sink in. Then Suna being Suna, breaks the silence.
“I still can’t believe I found out this way though.” Amusement flashes his eyes as he points at the bag. “Do you even know how to use this stuff?”
“Do you?” Atsumu bites back, their competitive nature taking over instantly.
“Duh,” Suna playfully rolls his eyes “You don’t make fun of me for being emo for nothing.” Osamu snorts at his words. “I basically grew up with this stuff. I can at least show you how to do your eyeliner, if you want.”
“Ya would?”
“Who do you think I am?” Suna teases “just sit down on the floor. It takes practice but you can copy what I do later if you like it, ‘kay?”
Atsumu sits down obediently, and Osamu follows. Suna’s eyes follow their movements, and he sees the pink nail polish Osamu got clutched in her hand. He gestures at her hand. “Do you want me to paint your nails later too? I’ve never done it on someone else before, but I can try…”
Osamu’s eyes widen as they look at their hand, like they’ve forgotten the small bottle’s existence. “Oh. Sure.” A blush rises to their face. Atsumu silently rolls his eyes at the exchange.
Suna takes the small black bottle and sits down facing Atsumu, placing one of his hands on top of their shoulder for balance. “‘Samu, watch closely.” he murmers and Osamu scoots up closer to the two, paying close attention to the way Suna flicks his wrist to apply the eyeliner over Atsumu’s eyes, with a small wing at the end. Atsumu blinks twice and Suna smiles gently. “Okay, done. You can go look in the mirror now.” He shoos Atsumu away, and Atsumu stands up with a knowing look on his face. The things I do for love, he thinks as he walks towards the bathroom. But he’s also dying to see how he looks with eyeliner, though he wouldn’t admit that out loud.
He enters the bathroom and hurriedly looks at himself in the mirror, blinking a few times as he watches the way his now defined eyes move. It feels— good. He smiles at himself, eyes crinkling at the corners. I can get used to this.
He walks back the corridor with a new wave of confidence. The scene he comes back to is thooth-rottingly gross:
Suna painting Osamu’s nails a light shade of pink, his hand gently holding hers. He watches as Suna takes a look at Osamu’s (very red) face and her eyes (her eyeliner looks way neater than his, Atsumu notes), and whispers “You look so pretty, Osamu.”