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I.
The thing about Kiyoomi is that he liked to believe that he knew Atsumu more than most.
They had been going steady for a couple of months now, though he wasn’t super sure how many people actually knew that. Hinata had a 6th sense about this type of thing, so he probably knew but nobody in the team had mentioned anything and honestly, Kiyoomi didn't really care. He wasn't in the business of publicizing his private life, especially because he was sure that the moment anything got confirmed, Meian would give them a small lecture on dating-while-working, which would be awkward and annoying. Their relationship right now didn’t affect the dynamics as a team, even in the days they had fights. The synchrony that he and Atsumu had was a sort of comfort, which might not be perceptible to the panopticon, since they often bickered and argued while on the court.
There were things about this private Atsumu that sometimes surprised him. For one, his weirdness surrounding intimacy and touch. Unlike what most people think, Kiyoomi does like being touched, but he prefers to be the one to initiate interactions and the people he feels comfortable touching are few and far in between. It starts with Atsumu sneaking soft touches into Kiyoomi's hand or shoulder while at practice. At first Kiyoomi felt a bit disturbed by how much he craved the touches, and found himself flinching as soon as he felt the touch. Atsumu would immediately let go of his skin, but not before sneaking a quick second touch with his opposite hand. As time went on, it turned into this game of mutual affection and a secret language in the form of touches.
Atsumu, as a partner, was extremely affectionate, most days comparable to a koala bear. Some days, especially right before a match, he would get a bit weird about touch. He would go out of his way to avoid touching doors, walls or chairs, and when he did, all of his motions were extremely intentional.
It was weird, though Kiyoomi would be lying if he didn’t find it kind of endearing. It just bothered him sometimes, because Kiyoomi would want to snuggle up against Atsumu, who would flinch and rub his other side – gently asking Kiyoomi to put his whole weight into Atsumu’s lap instead of on his side.
Little things like that set sparks of familiar worry sometimes in his heart, in part because of the ritualistic nature of how Atsumu reacted to touch, always touching his other side. He had been there and it wasn’t particularly a pleasant experience.
It really didn’t seem to bother him much outside their home though, Atsumu was only like this while they were together. Kiyoomi didn’t know if he should be worried about these behaviors only happening when they were together or touched that Atsumu allowed him to see them, something so private only perceptible to those close enough to behold.
Another thing about Atsumu that surprised Kiyoomi was how much he talked.
It was incessant . A constant hum of chatter that went on for hours, sometimes without a single response from Kiyoomi. At first, Kiyoomi found it kind of annoying, until he realized that was Atsumu’s internal monologue and he probably could ignore a lot of it without repercussions. Atsumu never seemed to be offended when Kiyoomi didn’t listen and it became a constant background noise that Kiyoomi came to love. Though sometimes, it worried him.
It was kind of like Atsumu couldn’t stand the quiet.
He was always either listening to something , talking to someone , or talking to noone .
It became apparent this was something that did bother Atsumu when Meian organized a group meditation retreat at an onsen. Generally, everyone was pretty stoked though Kiyoomi wasn’t sure if the realization that they would be quiet had hit Hinata, Inuaki or Bokuto. This honestly was not the group Kiyoomi would organize a meditation trip around, though he could see Meian’s line of thinking.
“I think I’ll pass.” Atsumu said, a bit nervously.
“Eh! Why?! It’s gonna be so epic, Atsumu!” Bokuto pleaded.
“I would prefer it if you could come, if you can. It has extremely good benefits for your mental and physical well-being. Though it is optional, as most team events are, I would strongly suggest coming.” Meian responded, pretty much confirming it's not optional to pass on.
The conversation then shifted to the type of fun activities and food they would have while at the onsen, though Atsumu seemed to furrow his brow and look a bit nervous, uncharacteristically quiet.
–
“— I mean Omi, is there anyone out there who can actually stand the sound of their own thoughts?” Atsumu had been going on a tirade about the Onsen topic for a while at that point, he probably wasn’t thinking Kiyoomi had been listening, when he replied
“I kind of like meditating. It’s nice.” Though sometimes it was a bit hard when he was actively having an OCD episode, since it was intrusion, after intrusion, after intrusion.
Atsumu slumped back. “— I just don’ get it. I feel like if the world gets quiet I just get all of these weird thoughts. Y’know?” Kiyoomi thinks he does know, though he doesn’t think it’s weird.
“I think that’s relatively common, actually.” He is pretty sure last time he was meditating his brain was generating thoughts about snake eggs and cellular biology, thoughts are weird. He gave Atsumu that thought as an example.
“No. It’s not like that– It’s more like–” Atsumu has a hard time finding the words to describe the issue, moving his hands in the air as if to catch a thought that escaped him. “It’s like terrible shit that doesn’t stop, y’know.” Kiyoomi fixes his gaze on Atsumu, this all feels really familiar and Kiyoomi is a bit worried.
“I promise I’m not crazy— ”
“I would never think that.” Kiyoomi quickly interrupts.
“— It’s like thoughts about stuff I did years ago n’ sometimes I feel like— like, maybe they rewrite themselves, y’know? Like every time I will remember something differently and I can’t really trust my mind.” Atsumu starts on another tangent, one in which Kiyoomi really isn’t able to catch much, if anything at all, since it’s mostly allegories and metaphors he doesn’t quite understand.
He just hugs Atsumu, both arms wrapping evenly across both sides of his body. It probably seems like a weird way to hug someone, for most on-lookers but it has become second nature to Kiyoomi.
Meian ends up canceling the trip to the onsen because of a storm, much to Atsumu’s delight.
II.
They are brushing their teeth together, when Atsumu spits out the toothpaste into the sink and takes a couple seconds to size up Kiyoomi. He opens the cabinet and pulls out Kiyoomi's Paroxetine prescription, in a rather exaggerated and dramatic fashion.
"What's this Omi-Omi? Are these birth control pills?" Atsumu asks with fake amusement.
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and keeps brushing for about 30 seconds, ignoring his boyfriend as he rummages through his medical cabinet.
He spits out and rinses.
"I hope you realize we are both men. With penises, Atsumu.
“Cocks.
“We cannot have children.” He rolls his eyes as he continues, "Also you did not brush nearly long enough. You're supposed to do the full 2 minutes in the electric toothbrush. That's gross, I am not kissing you tonight."
"But Omi-Omi, how’re we supposed to have sex without kissing?"
"Easy. We won't."
Atsumu blanches and grabs his toothbrush quicking brushing his teeth again. This time, going through the full two minute jingle. Sakusa begins the second portion of his night routine, pulling out his two face washes and moisturizer from his medicine cabinet.
"I take it for my OCD. It's an antidepressant but it works really well for OCD. I've been on it since college, I think. Maybe high school, I don’t actually remember." Sakusa massages the cleansing lotion on his face for a minute, before Atsumu spits out and mutters
"I didn’ think you actually... How long have ya had...Ya know..." Kiyoomi finds the reaction a bit surprising, especially because Atsumu often engaged in the jokes Adriah and Inuaki made about his particularities. Kiyoomi knows it’s technically fucked up, but he really could care less what others thought of him.
"OCD? It's not a bad word, Atsumu, you can say it. I don't advertise it, but it's pretty obvious." He pauses, not that saying bad words has ever stopped Atsumu.
Kiyoomi knows from personal experience that sometimes saying words that hit home are hard to verbalize and honestly he has had his suspicions for a while. Kiyoomi has had years to come to terms with his behaviors and rituals, though he guesses most people just read them as sort of particular or rude. Nobody ever actually thinks he has OCD, even if they joke about it. OCD is one of those things everyone talks about, but nobody actually seems to have.
Sometimes people that struggle with mental health are the last you would expect, he thinks back to group therapy during his last year in Itachiyama. He remembers one of his classmates, Kaori, was also in the therapy session. Kaori was beautiful and extroverted, an outgoing, popular girl. You wouldn’t expect it, but her OCD was extremely debilitating – she struggled with extreme avoidance of knives and sharp objects, to the point of eating all her meals with plastic spoons in the school bathroom. The sight of any knives in the school cafeteria, ready to launch her thoughts into a spiral. Kiyoomi was surprised, if he was honest. He never expected someone so externally together to have such internal struggles.
"Probably since I was about seven I think? But it didn't get bad until maybe my first year of high school. I only got diagnosed in my third year though."
"Really? Why'd it take so long? I mean..."
Kiyoomi sighs, he pinches his brow and glares at Atsumu. "It didn't always start with the contamination stuff, I guess." Which is what most people associate with OCD.
"At first it was like, thoughts of my sister dying, and this horrible feeling of premonition. Like maybe it would happen if I thought about it. So I would shake my head to make it go away, but it wouldn't go away.” It actually went deeper than that, but he wasn’t sure how to verbalize it.
“Things like that." Honestly, Kiyoomi probably had gone through every theme in the book.
"Anyways, I am much better now. I don't think it will ever go away fully, but it doesn't suffocate me the way it used to. The meds really help."
Kiyoomi looks at Atsumu through his reflection in the mirror, only to see him furrowing his brow. He realizes, from contextual clues, that Atsumu probably found that a bit too close to home. He has his suspicions.
He decides to drop the subject.
That night, they don't have sex or even kiss but rather hold each other tightly through the night. If Kiyoomi were honest, he was hoping Atsumu's brain wasn't making crazy ideas about his childhood fears. Brains like his own often tended to do that.
Intermission.
"Do you think this looks weird?" Omi asks nervously in the changing room, just the two of them. Since the rest of the team had gone home rather quickly after an arduous training program — the season was right around the corner, starting tomorrow with a match against EJP Raijin.
"Omi, it just looks like a mole that you scratched off and turned into a scar. Which is exactly what you did."
The previous month, Kiyoomi noticed a mole he thought he hadn't seen before, or maybe he had?
He wasn't sure.
It was regular, a bit raised, but looked a bit like a scab. He scratched it, in part to convince himself it was nothing but a scab. When it didn't budge, he scratched it again, harder, until the layer of skin came off.
He ran to Atsumu, in panic, asking him to cover up the wound to prevent infection— refusing to tell him what thoughts led him here. That is, until he caved in and asked for reassurance (only a couple of times, in his defense).
"It looks irregular. It's completely asymmetrical and different from all my other moles. Can you measure it for me?" Kiyoomi said, pulling out a small measuring tape he always carried with him, looking intently at Atsumu.
"O—Okay?" Atsumu gently touches Kiyoomi's skin, measuring the small spot over his shoulder.
"Two millimeters... maybe three?" Although the information is benign, Kiyoomi pales.
“I need to see a dermatologist. Take a picture.”
“Now?”
“Please take a picture. Yes, now. I can't believe I let this go for a month. Can you please drive me to the ER?”
“Omi, I don't think the ER can do anything about a tiny freckle on the back of your shoulder.”
“Atsumu, I need to— I— What if it's something bad? I need to know so I can do something about it.” Kiyoomi is hyperventilating by this point. Atsumu kisses the spot quickly, to Kiyoomi's shock.
Kiyoomi lets out a deep breath, thinking of leaves in a pond. Metaphorically placing each errant thought in a leaf. This is not working.
Kiyoomi started putting his day clothes back on. He still felt the spot on his shoulder burn, he could imagine the cells bifurcating, multiplying inside of him.
“I need to go home.”
“Now? Rin and Komori are in town for tomorrow's game. I thought we were gonna meet up with them and ‘Samu after practice.”
Kiyoomi shakes his head, “I can't.” He needs to convince himself this isn't cancer .
He needs to. He pulls out his phone.
If you scratch a melanoma what happens?
How long for melanoma to spread?
Melanoma in-situ vs scar.
Scar vs melanoma Journal article DOI
“Omi, give me that.” Atsumu grabs the phone out of his hands.
Fine. Kiyoomi still has his laptop at his place, he needs to know.
“I'm going home.”
“Nope.” Atsumu stands in front of him, blocking his way out. “I think we should go. Ya need to clear your head out. If we go home, you will make yerself actually sick with Dr. Google.”
He reminds himself this is probably OCD. Definitely . Probably . His brain chides him ‘ what if it's cancer? ’, and it’s hard to argue with that.
He shakes his head.
“Fine. You're right. I'm sorry.” He hates when he gets like this.
“I need to call Motoya, just. Give me a second.” he steps into one of the bathroom stalls, aware Atsumu is waiting for him on the other side.
“I'm kind of going insane.”
“Hello to you too, we are on our way to the restaurant.”
“I found this mole on my back and I scratched it and—”
“— I can't reassure you, Kiyo.—” Motoya interrupts immediately, familiar with this game.
“— I am just really worried.” Kiyoomi sighs.
“Make an appointment with the doctor if it's really worrying you, but you're not allowed to engage at all with any of this any further. Okay?”
“Yes. Fine.” Kiyoomi huffs.
“Have you been doing your therapy stuff?” Motoya asks, despite being over the phone he can feel his piercing gaze.
Kiyoomi sighs, pinching his brow. “I haven’t had an episode since college. I thought I was better.” He murmurs, pretty aware of Atsumu waiting for him outside the stall.
Kiyoomi knows OCD isn't something that you get cured of magically, he knows this because once you fall into the trap of believing it, your brain will strike. In a way, getting cured of OCD is accepting a lifestyle that allows you to be proactive in recovery.
It's easier said than done.
Motoya stays quiet on the other side of the line, Kiyoomi knows that it's because nothing that he says will actually make Kiyoomi feel better. He knows that if Motoya berates him, it's over.
“Well, you're not allowed to skip dinner. Are you on your way?”
“We are still at the gym, but we are about to head out."
—
At dinner, it feels like ants are crawling all over his thoughts. The erratic cacophony of intrusions is making it hard for him to eat.
Is it cancer? Kiyoomi can't know for sure, but he knows it's unlikely, given that he's almost certain the mole is just a scar.
But what if it is cancer? Fine, Kiyoomi thinks, assuming it is then he's probably catching it early. His appointment is for next week, there is no way something spreads in such a short time.
What if it's actually more advanced than that? Kiyoomi furrows his brow, picking at his food. He knows it's probably nothing, but probably is not for sure.
He looks up, and notices Osamu and Suna looking at him expectantly, while Motoya and Atsumu are having some sort of eye contact-mediated conversation.
"Sorry I zoned out for a second." He says, his voice felt sort of like molasses.
Osamu perks up and asks again "Yea’ no worries, I was askin’ how ya even tolerate this freak at practice," bumping Atsumu lightly on the shoulder. Atsumu rubs his other shoulder, trying to offset the uncomfortable uneven sensation. Osamu doesn't notice.
"I don't." Kiyoomi responds, finally taking a bite of the grilled meat, a bit cold now.
"You guys have been going strong for a couple of months now, how does it affect the dynamics on the court?"
"It's the same, we argue a lot. Miya could do better, he’s been slacking. Also, my serves are still much better than his—"
"— Omi, stop lying! You only had one more Service Ace than me last season!"
"Yep. Much better." Kiyoomi chuckles as Atsumu pouts and launches on another tirade. For a couple of minutes, Kiyoomi is able to ignore the song his brain likes to sing.
—
The dermatologist congratulates Kiyoomi for being proactive, which is exactly what Kiyoomi does not want to hear right now. She says the wound, while small, did have an unusual shape and would benefit from a biopsy.
She grabs a small shaving tool and excises the top of his skin off, about two millimeters of margin from the original scar.
Kiyoomi is staring blankly into the walls, covered with skin cancer infographics, when he notices a poster detailing the effects of UVA and UVB rays on the skin.
He closes his eyes. The idea of walking into the sun made him nauseous.
Everything is a blur after that, his brain is now convinced that he has cancer. He reviews his interaction with the doctor, the concern in her gaze, the fact that she didn't deny it looked weird.
He had cancer. He was sure of it.
She said if it was cancer, it was probably a very early stage , since the mole was so small . Just probably would need a bigger surgical excision. That didn't change the fact that his skin was now corrupted. This now meant that he would have to always monitor his skin for changes, and any little thing could become a relapse. He wasn't sure his mind could take it.
He skips practice twice that week, about 14 missed calls from Atsumu, 5 from Motoya, 1 from his sister and scattered texts from his teammates. He told Meian he was sick with the flu, but in reality he was pretty sick of his thoughts and probably wouldn't be able to do much other than ruminate. He wished he could sleep it off, but unfortunately even his dreams are mole-shaped, atypical and cancerous.
Around midday, Atsumu shows up at his door with a bag filled with assorted onigiri from Onigiri Miya. His apartment is a mess, clothes on the floor, his phone across the room and a pile of dishes that haven't been addressed. He just can't do anything else than review his thoughts and check the portal for biopsy results.
"I read online that I shouldn't leave ya alone but also I also read I should give ya space. Anyway, I have some onigiri, including umeboshi.” He smiles brightly, “Your favorite!"
Kiyoomi embraces Atsumu tightly, holding in breath and taking in his boyfriend's citrus scent.
They watch a comedy movie quietly, a mess of tangled limbs on the couch. No chuckles or laughs come out of either of them, but it's the first time in a week Kiyoomi has felt at peace.
Atsumu’s breath somehow becomes a calming sound, which he listens to quietly as his body melts into the blonde’s.
He gets a text from the doctor's office, his chart has been updated. He frantically pulls open his laptop.
A second pass, then two, and he lets out a sigh of relief.
"It was nothing. Not even atypical." He holds in a small sob, because he is so sick of himself. A normal person wouldn't freak out about something so inconsequential.
"See? I told ya!..." Atsumu murmurs, half asleep. His relaxed, sleepy face pulls on something inside of Kiyoomi. A mix of emotions, from love to self hatred and shame. He sometimes found himself so hard to love when he got like this.
He puts his head on Atsumu's chest and finally sleeps peacefully, for the first night in two weeks.
III.
He notices it at practice, Atsumu methodically slapping his opposite side every time he receives, sets, or spikes the ball. It's surprising that it doesn't seem to affect the quality of his serves, but Kiyoomi can tell Atsumu is more focused on his own body than communicating with his teammates while setting.
At one point, he shakes his head and slaps both of his cheeks loudly, muttering something to himself.
Kiyoomi taps his shoulder, grimacing. "Miya, get your head in the game."
"I am! My head is so totally in the game!" Atsumu responds, tapping his opposite shoulder in the meantime.
Kiyoomi stares intently at the action and looks back at Atsumu, who nervously averts his gaze.
"We should talk about that."
"About what? It’s –" Atsumu tries to argue back, but he is interrupted by Means scolding ‘dad’ voice.
"Miya! Sakusa! Stop bickering and focus on the game!" Meian scolds them. Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at Atsumu and sighs, trying his best to focus on his spikes, but he can’t shake off the worry that Atsumu has been more distracted and particular recently, for lack of a better word.
Right now, they are playing practice sets as a team, alternating positions and who plays in what team. Meian says it helps them become better rounded players, Kiyoomi doesn’t really feel like setting right now though. On one side are Hinata, Bokuto, Tomas and Adriah, and on the other side are Inuaki, Kiyoomi, Atsumu and Meian.
At one point, the ball hits Atsumu directly on the shoulder, as he attempts a receive. It’s not a bad receive by all means, but Kiyoomi notices how Atsumu immediately tenses as the ball touches his side. From then onwards, Atsumu’s behavior on the floor gets erratic, attempting to receive the ball, but only on his opposite side.
“Dude, focus .” chides Inuaki, but Atsumu ignores him.
Naturally, they lose the set.
—
“You're quiet.” Kiyoomi glances at Atsumu across the kitchen table. After a couple of months, Kiyoomi has learned that a talkative, rapid affect, and erratic Atsumu is a bit concerning, but a quiet Atsumu is worse.
“Everyone has bad days sometimes. Don’t stress about today. It was just practice.”
Atsumu is staring into the distance with his face scrunched up. He's picking at his food and alternating which side of the food he eats first. “I know… It’s not that. I don't know… I'm just thinking.”
“About?”
“I just don't know if any of this matters, if any of us are real in an intrinsic way. I don't know what makes a person. I think about this all the time, it's driving me insane. I think everyone feels like this though. ” Atsumu ponders.
Kiyoomi was not expecting the conversation to take a philosophical, almost ontological turn. Kiyoomi majored in math for a reason, he fucking hates this shit. He doesn’t know how to think about it.
“Well, I don't really feel like that. I just think that I'm here and that's enough, I never really consider the specifics.” Kiyoomi grabs and serves himself another bowl of rice, with a couple of umeboshi plums on the side, a raw egg and some soy sauce.
“I just feel like my thoughts aren't really mine. I don't know how much of myself actually exists behind myself.” Atsumu stares at the wall, his own food untouched, with so much weight behind every single of his words.
“I don't know what it's like to be intrinsically me. What parts are me? What part of myself is the persona I pretend to be? What parts are the universe? God? Gods? If any of these things exist.” These questions confused Kiyoomi, because he often thought Atsumu to be the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve. He wasn’t the kind of person to wear another through a mask.
“What do you think Omi? Is this real?” He asks, with a bit of exasperation in his gaze.
Kiyoomi doesn't know what to say, if he is being honest. This is weird , though he knows what's going on. Atsumu seems to be trying to talk about something, but the actual details of it get lost in an existential tirade.
“Well.” Kiyoomi starts, “Is it really a bad thing if we aren't real? Though I am not really sure what ‘real’ means in this case either.”
“It's not a bad thing if we aren’ real, but it’s not enough to make me stop feelin’ this way— I just sometimes get these weird ideas in my mind, and I am not sure if they are me or if it's some other force inside of me. It scares me."
Kiyoomi remembers something his first therapist told him, before he was diagnosed with OCD, but clearly anxious and struggling. ‘You see, Sakusa-san, it's not about stopping the feeling or sensation that something bad might happen. It's about accepting the feeling, giving it space, letting it pass. Nothing you do will inherently fix the feelings inside of you.’
“I don't think you can solve this thought. There's nothing to solve .”
He ponders what to say for a second longer.
"It's a bit like a paradox, the moment you decide on one thing, your brain will try to convince you of the other. The issue isn't the feeling itself, but rather the fact that you are engaging at all."
“I think sometimes it helps to just accept the discomfort— ride the wave— it makes us stronger in the long term”. A bit hypocritical coming from me , Kiyoomi thinks.
Atsumu holds in a breath and slumps back into the couch, he furrows his brow and cups his own face with both hands. "I just sometimes get this feeling, that I am a fundamentally bad person, Omi."
"I know I am not pleasant , and I know I am not great at teamwork sometimes . These are things I have’ta to terms with. Sometimes– Sometimes, I just get this feeling inside of me like I’ve done something wrong and I can't shake it off. I can't decide if these things are intrinsic aspects of myself or not. It's like maggots are eating my brain." Atsumu groans, and Kiyoomi notices the growing bags under his eyes and the pale complexion in his usually tanned skin.
Kiyoomi can't help but make a face at Atsumu's description of his intrusions, mostly because maggots truly , truly disgust him. His heart aches for Atsumu, Kiyoomi himself struggled with Harm themes when he was younger, even going through the same existential crisis over what the thoughts meant. He just doesn't know how to address this.
"Does this happen a lot?"
"I don' know, I used to get a lot like this in high school. Especially when Ma' got married to my step-dad."
"I get all freaked out about really weird shit when life starts getting stressful. I think it's a control thing. " Kiyoomi can relate to that. These things always strike you at the most opportunistic moments— when you are at your happiest or at your saddest.
"What about the ‘sides’ thing?"
"What thing?" Atsumu looks to the ceiling for a second.
"Y'know... The thing where something bumps into one side and you touch your other side." Kiyoomi demonstrates by taping one side of his own shoulder, and subsequently touching the other.
"It's just like, a thing I have done since I was a kid. It's not a big deal." Atsumu blushes, rubbing the crook of his neck. "I just really hate feeling uneven. It's a ‘stress’ thing. I don't know. I know it’s weird but I promise I have it under contro l. I am fine ."
Kiyoomi doesn't know what to say to that, he worries that if he says what he's thinking, it would be the wrong thing to say. It just hurts to see Atsumu like this, in a familiar type of pain.
The thing is, if Kiyoomi didn't have OCD, he probably wouldn't notice all of these things. Maybe he would think Atsumu is high or a bit anxious. But because he has OCD, he knows that there is probably a chorus of intrusions inside of Atsumu’s head. He knows the evenness thing bugs Atsumu a lot more than he lets off.
Kiyoomi thinks this is better as a conversation for another day. After all, he doesn’t even know what to say.
IV.
"Atsumu, I think you might have OCD." Kiyoomi says bluntly one night, as they are a mess of tangled legs and arms.
Atsumu perks up his head and makes a sort of confused expression. "What? Omi are ya crazy? I don't even like doing laundry... or the whole lining things up — or wait is that an Autism thing? Did you line up your toys as a kid, Omi-kun?" Atsumu laughs nervously. He often says kind of “ out-of-pocket ” things, as Bokuto would describe, when he is nervous.
Kiyoomi can tell Atsumu is deflecting, he doubts the thought has not crossed his mind. "I don't think I am Autistic." I mean, I probably am, but whatever . Kiyoomi thinks to himself. If he didn’t get diagnosed by this point, it probably wouldn't make much difference now.
"I am being serious, Atsu. I think you might have OCD, I have been thinking this for like. A year now."
He's honestly not sure why he didn't tell Atsumu earlier. Probably because Atsumu never made it easy, every time Kiyoomi tried to bring it up by referencing something that happened, Atsumu acted as if nothing weird was going on or if it didn’t really bother him. What changed now is that everything has been getting a bit worse lately and Kiyoomi isn't sure if he's making things any better. Despite having gone through years of ERP and medication, he isn't actually equipped to walk someone else through the process.
Atsumu sits back in their bed, seemingly sifting through thoughts and estimating what could be going through Kiyoomi's mind. Atsumu sighs.
"I mean I really, really don't think so, Omi-kun. I feel like I'm too messy for it— "
"You know you don't have to be clean to have OCD, right? We have been dating for a year now, you have seen my apartment when I am having an episode. You know this."
"I just don't really think we are all that similar. I don't see it." Atsumu huffs.
"Miya, I realize I have a more stereotypical presentation of it, but you know it is not like that for everyone right?" Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, a bit hurt by Atsumu's statement. He wants to tell Atsumu about Kaori, but he isn’t sure Atsumu would respond well.
He knows Atsumu is being obtuse on purpose.
"Also we are plenty similar."
"I don' really wanna talk about this right now, Omi. We are having such a nice night. Also why are you calling me Miya?" Atsumu pouted, shuffling into the covers. Kiyoomi knows Atsumu hates being called by his last name, it’s a bit hard not to get upset at him when he’s acting like a baby.
"Fine. Atsumu. I still think we should talk about it."
"I don' wanna." Atsumu burrows deeper.
"Why?"
"I said I don' wanna! Goddamn it, Omi!" Atsumu yells from frustration behind the covers.
Kiyoomi slumps back, taking a deep breath to swallow the anger. He wants to shout at Atsumu, but he also knows this is not easy for anyone to talk about. Not even himself.
"I'm sorry, Atsu. I shouldn't have pushed so hard.
"I just.. I see you struggling. You get into these, like, moral ruts." He said, referencing the previous week with Atsumu's 'crisis'.
"You do this thing where you ask me the most inane questions, if I think some inconsequential action you did has a broader effect on the universe.”
"Where if I touch you on one side, then you have to touch your other side. Or you worry that my heart will stop beating at night." Atsumu flinches when he mentions the compulsions. The heart thing was only something Kiyoomi realized kind of recently, noting that sometimes at around dawn, he would find Atsumu lying in his chest with his ear carefully placed over his heart – his finger thrumming to the sound of Kiyoomi’s heartbeat.
"It reminds me so much of how it was like for me in high school." Kiyoomi finds Atsumu under the covers, and spoons his naked body, nuzzling his face in the small space left on the pillow, behind Atsumu’s head.
"I just don't want you to suffer." He whispers into the crook of Atsumu's neck, who shivers as he feels Kiyoomi's warm breath against his.
At around 4:30 AM, Kiyoomi stirs, only to find that Atsumu is not on his side of the bed. He can hear his voice faintly on the phone, as he facetimes with his brother. He only assumes it's facetime because he hears Osamu's voice through the door.
“—4-fucking-AM, are ya kiddin’me? I'm gunna hang up” He hears Osamu chide.
“Shuddup. I jus’ need’ta ask you something…” Atsumu pauses. “Samu… Do you think I have OCD?”
The sound cuts off for a second, probably Osamu laughing on the other side of the line. Kiyoomi wants to interrupt before Osamu says something completely idiotic. At first, he thought Osamu was the better brother. But after knowing them both well for two years now, he realizes they are cut from the same cheap cloth.
“Where is this coming from? I have to open the shop soon anyways. Prepare the Onigiri and shit, I guess I can stay on the phone.” Osamu chuckles.
“‘Omi thinks I do, and I'm kinda worried about it now.”
“Okay, well, let me Google it…” Osamu pauses for the longest minute of Kiyoomi's life.
“Y’know I was gonna laugh for a minute because it sounds ridiculous. But the more I read the more it kinda explains everything. I think one time Kita-san actually asked me if you were on any medications, which I thought was really, really weird. But y’know, Kita-san was a weird guy. He mentioned you doing the ‘sides’ thing in second year, when it was really bad. Also remember when —”
“-- Ugh!” Atsumu interrupts, “Everyone keeps bringing that up. It’s so annoying.”
At this point Kiyoomi feels uncomfortable listening further, but he’s glad that Atsumu is processing this on his own terms now.
V.
"I'm home." Kiyoomi says quietly into Atsumu's apartment, a bit surprised to see the lights on, gently unlocking the door with the key Atsumu gave him. They had just taken some time off for Golden week, and Kiyoomi took the train back to Tokyo from Osaka to visit his sister. Atsumu spent the week in Hyogo, with his mom and brother.
He finds Atsumu awake, crazy-eyed and hyperventilating. It seems he hasn’t even noticed that Kiyoomi is in the room. He's pacing from one side of the living room to the other with his arms crossed. Occasionally, he will bite his nails, though every time he bites one he has to bite the corresponding nail in the other hand and every time he touches one side of his face, he uses his opposite hand to touch the other hand. It's a heartbreaking sort of dance.
They need to talk about this.
Omi watches for a couple of seconds until it dawns on Atsumu that he entered the house.
"Omi! Hey, how are you?" Atsumu fakes, with a bright smile, though Kiyoomi can tell he's internally freaking out about something.
"Hey, sorry about the time. I stopped by a restaurant to find something to eat as soon as I got back. I thought you would be asleep... Are you okay?" Kiyoomi asks carefully.
Atsumu laughs nervously, plucking a hair from his scalp nervously. Kiyoomi had never seen Atsumu do that before, it was freaky .
"Stop that!" Kiyoomi slaps Atsumu's hand as he picks another hair.
Atsumu blanches before muttering, "You have to hit the other one too."
"I don't have to, actually" Kiyoomi will not engage in someone else's compulsion. Nope. It's not good for anyone involved.
Atsumu slaps his opposite hand, then a second time harder. He is about to do it a third time, but Kiyoomi grabs his hand. They are volleyball players, they can’t hurt their hands. "Please, Omi. You have to do it. Please."
Kiyoomi grabs Atsumu's hand and slaps it as gently as possible, careful not to hurt Atsumu. His brows knit in worry as Atsumu's breath calms down a bit.
"Come on, sit with me for a second." He grabs Atsumu by the waist and takes him to the couch.
"Should I make some tea?" Atsumu nods quietly, though Kiyoomi can tell he's almost freaked out enough to the point of tears.
He brings two mugs of a sweet, cinnamon-apple tea. He doesn't think it's a good idea for anyone to drink anything resembling caffeine right now, even aside from the clear spiral his boyfriend is in.
"What's going on, Atsu." He hates seeing him like this.
"I think I— Wait. Before I say it, you have to promise you will not break up with me, okay?" Atsumu whispers nervously but Kiyoomi has a bit of an idea where this is going.
"Atsumu, I don't think it's that easy to get rid of me." Kiyoomi whispers reassuringly.
Atsumu puts his hands on his face, chuckling lightly before letting out a sob.
"I think I may have killed someone, Omi."
–
It's Kiyoomi's turn to pace now, occasionally putting his hand in a thinking pose as he silently contemplates his options.
He has never been in this position before.
"Omi, please say something." Atsumu pleads, holding a deep breath. He's looking at his tea, which he has barely touched. His hands are shaking too much to properly hold the mug.
"Okay, sorry. Yes." Kiyoomi sharpens his gaze.
"So let me get this straight: You think you may have killed someone because as you were driving from Hyogo, which to be fair can be a pretty bumpy road, you felt the car thump. You tried looking back into the road, but didn't see anything. The nearest exit was thirty minutes away and yet you drove back to make sure you didn't run over anyone. When you checked there was nobody there —"
"—Yes but I think I missed something, Omi. It’s was dark and —You don' g—"
"—Coincidentally, there was a car accident reported over TV a couple of hours ago on the same highway, though in a completely separate section than the one you drove in — I am pretty sure. No mention of a hit-and-run or vehicles involved." Kiyoomi hoped repeating the story to Atsumu would let him hear the absurdity of it. He was not equipped for this situation, always having been on the opposite end of it.
"Maybe we should sit with the thought for a second. Maybe you did kill someone." Kiyoomi channeled his inner therapist for a second, hoping maybe he could help Atsumu walk through this obsession.
"Omi don't say that. Ya can't joke about this, it's not funny. It's not funny." Atsumu's voice shaked. Maybe Atsumu was not ready for an exposure.
"Atsu, this is absolutely OCD. This is actually a very common obsession in OCD, so much that it has its own name — 'Hit-and-Run' OCD" Kiyoomi saw how Atsumu's shoulder tensed up even hearing the incriminating words.
"The way OCD works is like—" Analogies were never his strong suit. "I guess, in this case I am guessing you had a thought like 'What if that bump was actually a person?' even though you didn't see a person there, right?" Atsumu nods.
"Everyone, and I mean everyone, even Bokuto probably, gets thoughts like this. I swear the guy once told me that he once had a thought about violently murdering Meian, I promise, this is normal . Sometimes we might say back to the thought 'Shit, what if it really was a person?' ‘What if I secretly want to kill Meian’. That's where the cycle starts, so you will start doubting yourself until you finally decide to go check the road after reviewing your thoughts." He pauses, feeling a bit sorry for Meian in this hypothetical situation.
"You might think you are solving the puzzle, until you get another thought like that. Now, you have taught your brain that the only way to get rid of the thoughts is to do what it says. " Kiyoomi thinks back to his time in Itachiyama, it was all a giant compulsion. He isn’t even sure how he managed to survive any of it. Even Volleyball wasn't a reprieve for the thoughts in his mind, afterall, the thought of the pathogens in the ball sometimes still kept him up at night but he loved how the exhaustion of the sport prevented him from engaging in his thoughts.
"If," Atsumu's voice shakes, "If that's what this is, how do I make it go away ? This sucks, Omi. I feel like I'm stuck in my own head. I feel like a murderer, a horrible person. I am so tired of not feeling real. I don't know what to do." His voice cracks at the last sentence, and he lets out a small sob. Kiyoomi has never seen Atsumu cry, and this was making him really, really scared.
He held him tight until his breathing calmed down, putting on an inconspicuous children’s cartoon, hoping it would put Atsumu to sleep.
The next day, Kiyoomi forces Atsumu to take a sick day.
The issue is that he doesn't trust Atsumu by himself, knowing from recent personal experience how alone time becomes the prey of rumination and compulsions. He also doesn't think it's a good idea for Atsumu to play a contact sport right now, when he's so actively triggered. Kiyoomi doesn't really understand the touching-both-sides-of-his-body thing, but then again Kiyoomi doesn’t understand his own obsessions a lot of the time. Atsumu says it's something that only really acts up when he's stressed out.
Stressed out like now, probably. Definitely . He can tell because Atsumu keeps bumping into furniture and going back to bump himself again on the other side of his body, over and over again. This would be a mess in practice.
"I texted Meian from your phone that you are sick and not going to practice."
"Hey! Why would ya do that, Omi-kun! I can't let you get better at spikes than me, that's not fair. Gimme my phone!" Atsumu does grabby motions.
"Look, I am also not going, I told Meian I got stuck in Tokyo taking care of a sick relative and would be taking emergency leave as per my benefits." He said, matter of fact.
"Omi. Wait, are ya here to babysit me? Omi, give me my phone. I'm gunna tell Meian on you. '' Atsumu complained. "It's either me here with you or your brother, choose wisely." Kiyoomi threatened, he had Osamu on speed-dial.
Atsumu pouted. "Fine. Whatever, I guess."
Kiyoomi rests his head on Atsumu's lap. "It can be a slow kind-of-day today. How are you feeling?"
Atsumu twirls his fingers around Kiyoomi's curls, humming to himself. "I think better, but I still feel kind of stuck."
Atsumu sighs, crouching forward and kissing Kiyoomi's forehead. "I feel like..." he mutters, "I wish I didn't have a body sometimes".
Kiyoomi gives Atsumu a hard look. "Not like that! More like, I wish I didn't have to feel it. Every time somethin' touches me and it feels wrong, it's like the other side of my body burns and needs to feel it too, otherwise I can't shake the feelin' off."
"It's horrible, Omi."
Kiyoomi stills, worrying that his position in Atsumu's legs will cause his body to feel 'off' now. He relaxes, realizing that this line of thinking won't help either of them. "Atsu, I can relate to that." Atsumu looks at him curiously.
"Sometimes I feel like the burden of having a body, which can get sick, with cells proliferating and collapsing inside of me makes me lose my mind."
“Like. What if I get sick and I don't get better? What if I get sick, and I can't stop thinking about how sick I feel, or I can't stop noticing my body and how it feels. Then I can't sleep, and I might get worse.” He can feel his thoughts darken, and he shakes the feeling away before the spiral swallows him whole. “Remember when I got freaked out about the skin cancer? I found it so hard to look at my own body for a couple of weeks after. I was just so worried that if I looked at my skin, I would find something else to fixate on.”
“But the lovely thing about having a body is that I get to touch you with it,” he says, gently. “I think that is worth any horror my mind can create.”
V I
"How did it go?" Kiyoomi asks nervously, standing in the waiting room of a mental health clinic.
"Fine, I guess." Atsumu averts his gaze, looking at the other people gathered around or waiting for their loved ones. He glances back at Kiyoomi, silently pleading to talk about this in a more private place.
They hold hands while walking back to Sakusa's apartment.
"They gave me some medication with a long name to pronounce..."
"Escitalopram?"
"What the fuck, Omi? How did ya do that? That's the one. Yer a genius!”
“There aren't that many prescriptions for OCD, honestly. I've been here for a while.” He metaphorically gestures at the clinic, Kiyoomi knows OCD very, very well.
“Yeah,” Atsumu sighs dejectedly, awkwardly confirming his diagnosis.
“The doctor said he was surprised I wasn't diagnosed in high school. Especially cuz I was having a really hard time and my compulsions are pretty visual. Some people never have physical compulsions. Apparently that's a very typical experience, he said most people develop OCD around 19 but it can take decades to get diagnosed. What If he's just a quack I mean— isn't it kinda early to diagnose me with something? We only met once.”
“They call OCD the doubting disorder for a reason, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi paused lightly, chuckling, “You definitely have OCD, I am sorry to confirm.”
“Do ya think they accept returns?”
“If they do, let me know.”
They both laughed lightly, kicking stones as they walked towards their home. “Omi, does this get easier? Do the thoughts ever go away?”
Kiyoomi stops walking for a second, contemplating the question.
“Yes and no. I don’t think the goal is for the thoughts to go away, but rather to help you be okay with them.” Kiyoomi looks deeply at Atsumu’s golden eyes, which seem perpetually tired these days. “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it? Human beings have millions of thoughts throughout our lives, but not a single one of them defines us.”
“I think it will get better from here, for sure. In a weird way, I think going through OCD and fighting it makes us some of the strongest people out there.”
“We have to wake up every day and decide, ‘what a wonderful day to do a hard thing’ and move forward with each step. If I could get rid of it, I would. Yet – I also think going through our biggest fears daily makes us kind of cool.” Kiyoomi blushes, he isn’t sure he has ever said such a revealing and weirdly positive speech. The things we do for love, I guess.
“You know I love you , right?” Kiyoomi blurts.
Atsumu stares at him, shocked at hearing the words from Kiyoomi. “You do? Omi, forreal ?”
Kiyoomi looks at him a bit confused. Atsumu continues, “Don’ take this the wrong way, I just think I am not an easy person to love.” Kiyoomi furrows his brow about to respond in offense to the statement. “I don’ take it personally at all! Look, I just, I know sometimes I talk too much, and am kinda demanding and overbearing. I’m also kinda weird and always gotta feel like my body feels even. It’s weird. I gotta be honest and say you could probably do better .”
“You are supposed to respond: ‘I love you too’” Kiyoomi chides playfully. If he is honest, he thinks Atsumu is very easy to love. He can’t see the ways in which Kiyoomi himself finds himself difficult, particular . In a weird way, they complete each other’s missing parts.
“I do love you, Omi-Omi! I thought it was obvious! I love you to the moon and back, to the Stars and back! To Mount Fuji ! To –” Kiyoomi steals a kiss from Atsumu’s mouth, in large part to shut him up.