Archive of Our Own

spring

kita doesn’t see the big deal in choosing a favorite season. in the spring, the peeps sounding out from the hatchlings in the duck pen welcomes the first few days of the new season, the flurries in the winter replaced with fresh rainfall for the newly planted sprouts out on the fields, and the start of the weekly visits to the market.

like the ducklings following their mother to the pond, atsumu accompanies him at every occasion. he’s there when kita counts the number of hatchlings for the year, cooing when one pokes at kita’s knees curiously with its beak. he huffs and miscounts when the click of a camera shutter goes off, and huffs again when the click goes off once more when he looks up at his boyfriend.

“atsumu.”

“shin.” atsumu grins at his phone, and it’s only when a few seconds go by without another shutter that kita realizes that atsumu has switched to recording him.

“i’m going to drop that new shiny iphone of yours into the duck pond.” by now he’s picked up the duckling into his palms, looking anything but menacing. despite that, he knows that atsumu will pick up on the tone and will stop whatever he is doing.

“aw, this one’s the newest model tho,” atsumu sighs, pocketing his phone, “i’ve collected enough fluffy kita content today though, so i’m satisfied.”

kita grumbles a bit, knowing said folder and having seen it before, the many candid pictures atsumu has successfully taken before kita’s realized. he doesn’t mind, though, knowing that folder is what helps atsumu get through his training and v-league seasons away at osaka. the videos of them kita has saved on his phone helps him, too, when he misses atsumu on lonely nights. 

but right now, they are together at hyogo, inside the duck pen where they were surrounded by newly hatched ducklings all curiously staring up at them. so he turns to atsumu, only to see atsumu’s eyes already on him and an endeared smile pulling at his lips.

he smiles back.

early morning trips on the way to the market with atsumu’s hand in his, the smell of the earth after a particularly strong rainy night a few hours prior, and the sounds of stalls being prepared and haggling as they gradually neared the market fills him with a sense of domesticity that has kita’s heart fluttering.

atsumu’s bed head sticks up in all directions in the rush of waking up late and insistence of following kita to the market, his half-lidded eyes struggling with sleep and his overall demeanor looking like he’s about to drop onto the pavement and fall into a peaceful sleep right there and then. it’s adorable, kita admits, even if atsumu stumbles into him one too many times.

(atsumu’s limbs have grown longer since the first time they met in his second year, so atsumu can easily squash kita like a bug onto the concrete road if he actually does stumble over him. he’s experienced this first hand when atsumu nearly suffocated him by sleeping on top of him once.)

“careful, ‘tsumu. we’re almost there.” they stop for awhile, kita squeezing atsumu’s hand to hopefully wake him up. atsumu mumbles something and drops his head onto kita’s shoulder. it must be a funny sight, considering how tall he is compared to kita and how his neck is craning in an uncomfortable position to stay in that spot. but atsumu doesn’t complain, he simply stays there, squeezes kita’s hand back and gets back up after what felt like a few minutes.

“thought you passed out there.” atsumu laughs in response and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“i almost did and nearly dragged you down with me to cuddle. but i recharged, thanks to you, my lovely shin-charger.”

kita makes a face, but lets atsumu get away with it when he sees the energy returning to him.

when they near the market, atsumu’s energy has mostly returned. kita gets dragged to the first stall they usually visited, the auntie running it recognizing them when they reach. even after a few months of not visiting with atsumu, his heart warms at the fact that the friendships they’ve made in the market has not died down a single bit.

“‘tsumu-chan! welcome back home!” she says, pinching atsumu’s cheek good-heartedly while kita watches with a growing smile. “here to buy the usual tofu?”

“yeah, shin has been meaning to make those tofu burgers again since i came back home. he keeps forgetting to buy them whenever we went to the supermarket, and if i didn’t remind him he would’ve forgotten again.”

“maybe if you stopped distracting me then i would’ve remembered, ‘tsumu.” kita ignores atsumu’s squawk.

the basket that kita holds onto gets filled with more veggies, a couple bottles of homebrew sake, and extra home cooked food from the stall owners that particularly love them and ask them to ‘eat more, tsumu-chan! a pro-volleyball player like you needs the energy! and you too, shin-chan!’ . 

the sight of atsumu animatedly talking about his latest matches sets his heart into motion, and it gets sent soaring when atsumu looks back to him with the sparkles in his eyes that appear that’s only ever directed at him. it has appeared the first time atsumu did his first jump float serve, the time after kita has sent him the care package after he got sick, the time kita accepted his confession just before graduating. there are many more times when it happens, but kita melts every single time, ever since that first jump float serve. 

he never tires of it, and will never stop giving the small smile each time it happens.

they walk home, their intertwined hands swinging between them as atsumu recalls a conversation with one of the grannies in the market. at home, kita kisses his lips before atsumu rushes to go play with the ducklings and laughs as he leaves to go put away the groceries, atsumu staring after him with a surprised look.

in the spring they have more peaceful moments together before atsumu has to leave for osaka. 

on days where kita is out working on the field, he comes back to a cooked bento waiting for him on the counter and a note with a little fox drawn on it. there are times when atsumu would help, checking on the growing buds with a tenderness he doesn’t see that often, a stark juxtaposition of his loud personality. but it fits him well. he wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

kita can’t suppress the smile that grows when he starts to talk softly to the plants like a parent talking to an unborn child, and kita starts to daydream about the far future where they’re married and adopted children together. he snaps out of his daydream, flushing red at the thought of marriage and children . the flush further reddens when he sees atsumu looking up at him with a confused but teasing look when his prolonged stare has been noticed.

“am i that handsome, shin?” the trademark smirk that’s used to taunt opponents on the court appears, and it definitely does not help kita’s burning face one bit. he chucks his gloves at atsumu out of embarrassment and scurries away, a loud indignant yell ringing out behind him. 

(when atsumu catches up to him at home, he gets tackled onto the couch and gets trapped underneath a napping atsumu until his limbs go numb.)

atsumu convinces him to sleep in longer on mornings when the rain patters down loudly against the windows,

(“stay for a few more minutes, shin.” atsumu’s voice is muffled against his hair.

kita resists the urge to sink back into the warmth of his boyfriend’s chest. “i have to go check up on the saplings, ‘tsumu.”

“it’s raining cats and dogs outside.”

“it just gives me more of a reason to go check on them.”

“shiiiiiin….” kita struggles against atsumu’s strong hold around him. curse him and his stupid strong, toned volleyball arms. “jus’ a few minutes.”

kita breathes in deep, his eyes starting to droop the longer he stays wrapped in atsumu’s embrace.

“fine.”

“love ya.”

“...love you too.”)

his warm body pressed against him and the blankets piled on them, slowly pulling him back to a sleep with dreams filled with volleyball and sunny smiles for him, and only him.  

when atsumu leaves for osaka, the goodbye is not tearful. nevertheless, kita’s heart still hangs heavy when he gets kissed one last time till they meet again. he makes sure to cherish it, cradling atsumu’s face like he’s the most precious plant on the farm, and imprints the feeling into his mind before they have to part. atsumu hugs him once more and clambers onto the train when the horn blows, yelling ‘i love you, shin!’ that has kita wanting to chase after him. 

when the train leaves, half of his heart leaves along with it. 

but he knows it’ll come back, once the leaves start to fall again.

summer

the hot and humid weather of osaka replaces hyogo’s cool evening showers. atsumu spends hours in the msby gym to distract himself, the space in his heart after leaving home behind stays empty even though he’s with his number one love next to kita.

(or maybe as the years passed kita has become his number one, and volley the second.)

he jokes around with his teammates all the same, joins the lunches he gets invited to by bokuto on the weekends, follows hinata and omi to the milk tea stand in the area. his teammates don’t notice anything — the heartache that follows him to osaka after their breaks — or they’re simply not saying anything about since atsumu’s game has not been hindered. 

but at the end of the day when he steps into miya onigiri, the facade drops.

after a long day of tossing balls to the literal balls of energy called bokuto and hinata, a tired atsumu nearly face plants on the first empty table nearest to osamu. you belong with me blasts from the wireless earphones in atsumu’s ears while his head lies flat on the marble surface of the table, reminiscing his highschool days of chasing after kita during morning runs, the cherry blossoms falling down while kita’s stoic face morphs to a fond look when atsumu finally catches up to him. he’s going to start bawling his eyes out sooner or later.

his mind is about to conjure up the moment atsumu leans in for the kiss when a poke to his head pops the daydream. atsumu plucks the earbuds out and looks up to glare at the source of his annoyance.

“earth to ‘tsumu.” osamu has switched to tapping at his forehead. “moping over kita-san again?”

he scowls. “stop teasing me. if your boyfriend wasn’t living here in osaka, you’d be doing the same thing.”

“well, thank god suna isn’t!” osamu barks out a laugh and his punchable face has turned into a strangle-able one. but they were still in osamu’s shop and in public, plus his twin has been kind enough to allow him to mope in the corner of the shop during busy business hours. so, atsumu stops himself before he can reach out and punch the lights out of osamu’s smug face, opting to strangle him with his eyes instead.

“fuck you. it’s only been a couple week and i want to catch the next train back home.”

“i’m surprised you didn’t return the moment you first stepped foot back here.” osamu leans on his hand, smirking down at him.

atsumu flips him off. “shut up and let me mope in peace.”

“i would love to!” osamu returns the favor. “but before i go, let me remind you that your nightly video call with kita-san is happening in half an hour!”

atsumu is on the next bus to his apartment in thirty seconds flat.

“hi, ‘tsumu.” kita waves at him from his laptop screen. he’s in one of atsumu’s jackets that he left behind for kita to use. it engulfs kita almost entirely due to atsumu’s taller stature and the sleeves go up nearly to the tips of his fingers, looking absolutely adorable and it nearly convinces atsumu to go buy a train ticket to hyogo.

“hey cutie, you come here often?” atsumu winks, feeling giddy at how quick kita’s ears turn red. “can’t wait for our movie date.”

“me too. i’ve picked out the movie for tonight. it’s called ‘while you were sleeping’. well, technically it’s a k-drama — granny recommended it to me when i was telling her about our call tonight. she thinks you might like it because of the fantasy elements added in a modern world. plus, it has the sappy romantic stuff you like. it’s around thirty episodes long, each episode running for thirty minutes, has a nice soundtrack, and it’s got some of your favorite tropes.” kita pauses for a moment, playing with the sleeves of his — no, atsumu’s — hoodie. “i… researched it beforehand to see if you’d like it, like what you usually do whenever we watched a movie. i know how much effort you put into choosing them to make sure i enjoy it even though i’ve said there’s no need… so i wanted to return it.”

“ah…” atsumu is on the brink of tears for the second time that day. “you’re going to make me cry before we’ve even started the show, shin.”

“oh. in a good way, i hope?”

“yeah, a good way. thank you, though. i’m sure the show will be great if granny yumie and you think it’s great. after all, you’re the kita shinsuke.”

kita laughs and rolls his eyes. “i’ve never even heard of that title.”

“would you prefer the perfect miya atsumu’s boyfriend?” kita scrunches his nose and starts to giggle at the ridiculousness. atsumu beams at the reaction he elicits, never tiring of seeing kita’s lovely smile even after all the years they’ve been together.

“sure, ‘tsumu.” kita laughs one more time, and settles back onto his pillow. “i’ll send you the link to the netflix party now.”

for the next few hours they watch several episodes together, atsumu getting intrigued immediately with the plot halfway through the first episode. kita smiled fondly from where the small video call box sat in the corner, told him a soft ‘i knew you’d like it, ‘tsumu.’ and shushed him in the span of a few seconds.

and despite a k-drama catching his interest for once, atsumu ends up passing out from the exhaustion he’s endured during the day. in his defense, the soundtrack playing at that moment was sleep-inducing (not in the boring kind of way!) and thinking about kita singing it to him as a lullaby did not help his cause either. when he wakes, the main characters on screen are in a department store. a plushed penguin comes on screen and gets compared with the female lead, and atsumu — still bleary-eyed and half delirious with sleep — is irritated because that did not look like her one bit.

he forgets they are actually characters on a screen and not real, but his brain does not catch up with him when he mumbles something that has kita reeling for days. “that penguin does not look like hongjoo one bit…. it looks more like shin… it has shin’s cute smile and looks great like cuddling, and shin is great at cuddling… shin looks more of a fox than a penguin… but it could still work… ‘cuz he’s shin…”

he gives the screen one last scowl before passing out for the rest of the night.

after atsumu sleepily declared, kita had forgotten about it for a while. kita sneakily took a picture of atsumu passed out on his bed and ended the call with a giddy smile at the thought of teasing his boyfriend with this newfound information. that is until he forgot due to the increased farm work and atsumu needing to practice more for the new v-league season that was approaching. when he comes across the exact penguin plushie sitting on the tabletop in a new store that opens up in the area — miniso, he thinks — and an abundance of its replicas staring back at him (their eyes are closed. he face palms.) and even larger ones sitting on the shelf below them.

kita stares at them a little longer, wondering if it actually did look like himself. then again, atsumu was half asleep at that time and just woke up from nap. he tries to hug the penguin to test if it does look cuddly as atsumu deemed it to be, and kita thinks that he is a far better cuddler than this doll.

then again, it could keep atsumu company.

kita leaves the store with one hand on a tote bag filled with new household items and an arm wrapped around a penguin plush almost half the size of his body.

“miya-san! there’s a package here for you!”

atsumu is tired. with the new season comes more late practices in the gym that goes further into the night. he’s lying on the floor, drenched in sweat as his teammates mill around the area savouring their break time. he doesn’t have the energy to get up and check whatever the hell this package is, probably a box of onigiris from osamu to make sure he doesn’t starve, so he stays on the floor and mumbles an affirmation that hopefully gets them to buzz off and allow him to appreciate the air from the ceiling fans.

unfortunately for him, the package gets passed to bokuto. “tsum-tsum! here’s your package!” bokuto is hovering over him with a large cardboard box he thinks he recognizes under his arm. atsumu frowns at the blockage of the cool air coming from the fans because bokuto is stupid buff and built like a truck.

“bokkun. you’re blocking the fan. move.”

bokuto continues to stand there, grinning. “i think you’ll want to know who this package is from.”

“it’s osamu, isn’t it?” he groans.

“no.”

“sunarin?”

“no.”

“... my mother?” bokuto starts to crack up. when he’s calmed down he shakes his head once more.

“for fucks sake—”

“language, atsumu.” sakusa drones from somewhere in the gym.

“— just tell me already!”

“it’s from your special someone!” bokuto adds a thumbs up for good measure.

“special what now—? are we in fifth grade or something?”

his question goes unanswered. “seeing you worked up over this box when you don’t even want to get up and retrieve it is really funny.”

“no it isn’t.”

“it kind of is, atsumu-san” hinata joins in the teasing and suddenly bokuto is in top three for one of the most punchable faces in atsumu’s life. hinata looks at the box and his eyes widen. “woah! kita shinsuke? you mean like, the same kita-san who was inarizaki’s ex-captain and is atsumu-san’s boyfriend?”

“kita-san…?” atsumu stands up so quickly he thinks he’ll get vertigo but he ignores it. nothing matters when he has kita’s package in his hands, an envelope taped to the top of the box with kita’s neat handwriting pressed into it that’s waiting to be opened.

his surroundings are drowned out the moment he opens the box with careful hands, the butterflies fluttering in his chest threatening to burst out. inside, bento boxes neatly stacked on top of one another and a couple of thermoses sat snug in the corner, and a penguin plushie he’s sure he has seen before sits in the dead center. the smell of kita’s home cooked food has him trembling with excitement, but nothing compares to the moment he gets to the letter.

‘atsumu,

i found the penguin plush that you said looked like me from the time we watched that drama together. i hope it can keep you company so you won’t be lonely or sad while i am here at home. make sure to reheat and eat the food i’ve packed for you and sleep well.

i love you and will be waiting for your return as always.

kita.’

atsumu scrubs the tears threatening to fall out. it’s funny how after so long, kita’s gentle but firm words still have the power to bring him to the brink of tears. he picks up the penguin plush gingerly and hugs it, doesn’t care if his teammates are staring at him weirdly or if he’s getting his sweat onto the penguin. it faintly smells of kita’s lemongrass bath wash. while it doesn’t help with how much he’s been yearning to see his boyfriend again and wrap him in an embrace that could last for a decade, it helps to elevate the pain of the distance between them. it’s not the same with kita, not the the gap in his heart closes a bit the longer he holds onto the doll.

“are you okay, atsumu-san?” hinata places a hand on his shoulder and suddenly, he’s brought back to reality, a reality where there is 18 miles between osaka and hyogo instead of a bicycle ride down the block.

“y-yeah, shoyo-kun.” atsumu breathes in the penguin for a moment, then releases it.

“i think it’s really sweet of kita-san to send you this plushie, atsumu-san! it looks so huggable.”

bokuto nods, curiously looking at the penguin. “yeah, where did he buy it from? i want to get one for my boyfriends, too! that way, tetsu and keiji won’t be lonely without me!”

“ooh, me too me too!” hinata starts jumping around, bokuto joining in. their shoes squeak against the floors of the gym and atsumu wants to go home to go call his boyfriend and cuddle with the penguin. “i want to send one to kenma, too!”

“it was from a k-drama shin picked. i forgot what it’s called.” atsumu purses his lips in thought. “‘when you were sleeping’. i think.”

better to be safe than sorry.

“huh? what did you think when i was sleeping?” bokuto cocks his head in confusion. hinata copies the action.

“the name of the title. it’s literally ‘when you were sleeping’.”

“oh…”

“yeah. wait, isn’t your boyfriend crazy rich? he could just get one himself.”

“yeah, but i want to be the one to give it to him! it has no sentimental value to it if i buy it with his money and not mine.”

“oh. i suppose you’re right.” atsumu ruffles his head, saving the thoughts of sentiments for later, “hold on…  shoyo-kun is more than right… this is a sentimental gift that shin picked out for me himself! i’m deciding to gatekeep this plush from you peasants! this will be me and shin’s thing, so find yourselves some other plushie to send to your boyfriends.”

atsumu’s laughter and the cries of bokuto and hinata ring out loudly from the gym a few moments later.

kita wonders if atsumu likes the spontaneous care package.

he’s grown to like packing food, drinks and little trinkets his boyfriend would love into the boxes, his love automatically settling in the box and on the letter he tapes onto the top each time, ever since the first in his third year of high school. he likes to imagine what atsumu’s reaction would be once he opens the box, whether he’d cry like the time he’d received kita’s first package, or if he’d smile and laugh when he sees a snack he mentioned to kita the previous night. 

or if he’d miss kita the same way he misses atsumu.

he sighs and sinks back onto the couch.

Kiss kiss kiss, don’t leave a day out

Love love love, whisper to me before I sleep

kita’s phone starts to ring the familiar tone of the kpop girl group song atsumu has set it to, and for atsumu’s contact only. 

atsumu’s calling!

his heart rate increases in speed as he scrambles over to the kitchen counter, to quickly accept the call and hear the voice he’s been missing. a picture of kita asleep on top of atsumu’s chest is on the screen, the contact name ‘tsumu’ beaming at him. he takes a deep breath, then slides the green call button across the screen.

“hello, shin, my beloved.” atsumu is still in his msby jersey and looks like he has run a hundred laps. nevermind all the sweat. he is still as gorgeous as ever. kita wants to kiss him. badly.

“‘tsumu,” he’s breathless when he speaks, but who wouldn’t be in the presence of miya atsumu? paired with the pet name, his breath is stolen by how radiant atsumu’s smile is, it almost rivals the golden hour light filtering through his windows from the evening sun outside. “hi.”

his boyfriend chuckles at his short response. “i got your package.”

“did you now?” he’s starting to smile at the phone screen like a lovesick idiot.

“yeah,” the penguin he bought comes into view, “i guess half asleep me was kinda right. now i have a shin to keep me company here!”

envy for the penguin starts to bubble up in kita’s chest. at that moment, he wishes he was the penguin there to be his stand in, to help atsumu through his lonely nights. he wants to turn into a plush toy rather than be eighteen kilometres away from his home. he represses the urge to pout like a petulant kid. “i’m glad you love it.”

“i love it, not as much as i love you, though.” kita groans in response. he should’ve seen that coming. “it may be nice to hold this while i sleep at night, but it can’t hug me back. i don’t love things that can’t cuddle me back, or feed me pickled plums, or have this really cute laugh that i would make my ringtone if he’d let me.”

kita buries his face in his hands to cover the growing blush. “it would be embarrassing to hear in public, ‘tsumu…”

“no, it wouldn’t! i want everybody around me to hear my boyfriend’s lovely laugh.”

“‘tsumu……” he’s going to melt into a puddle. who’s going to clean it up if atsumu’s away?

“shiiiin…” atsumu drawls, clearly enjoying kita’s response to his teasing, “i sent you something, too, by the way.”

“a care package?” he gets a nod in response and suddenly, his pulse quickens in his excitement; at the thought of receiving something his boyfriend wants to give to him. “okay. you didn’t have to.”

atsumu blinks. “but i—”

“—wanted to,” kita finishes for him, gripping the sides of his phone with a tight grip, “i know. i was going to say that you didn’t have to, but i’ve been missing you a lot, ‘tsumu, so i can’t wait until it arrives.”

“i can’t wait until you open it, too. maybe you’ll end up almost crying like i did once you do.”

kita’s mouth opens with surprise, and he can’t stop the laugh coming out when he thinks about atsumu close to tears because of the penguin plush. the laughter goes on for a brief moment, with his boyfriend whining blaring from the speaker.

“shin! it’s not that funny! i thought it was really sweet of you and your freakin’ letter nearly made me cry! again!” he looks as if he’s about to start kicking and yelling like an actual child throwing a tantrum. “‘ i love you and will be waiting for your return as always.’ ?! be honest, were you actually trying to make me cry in public?! ’

kita’s giggles start again. “maybe, maybe not. nice to know you haven’t changed much.”

“are you a sadist, shin?”

“hm, would you like me to be one for you, atsumu?”

“........”

talking with atsumu helps the time pass. ever since high school, listening to atsumu talk grew on him as much as the younger boy had grown on him. whether it was volleyball, complaining about how his teammates won’t shut up about their own significant others (“you talk about me as much as they do with their partners, don’t you?” “...i guess. but i won’t let them out-talk me, because you’re the best”), or how the skies in osaka can’t compare to the ones they get in hyogo, kita can and will listen to him for hours on end.

later, when atsumu blows him a kiss good night (which he catches, thank you very much) and wishes him a good night, the package arrives.

inside, a limited edition msby atsumu doll (which he witnessed getting sold out within minutes, kita notes) and a couple of snacks from osaka he often asks atsumu for in his time away stare up at him. he delicately holds the doll in his hands, fixes his gaze on it for a good minute and takes in at how agonizingly atsumu  it looks, with the parted blonde hair and the undercut, his hooded eyes and that all knowing smirk he’s seen one too many times. 

oh, that smirk.

it’s smug and calculating and kita brings it to his chest to stop the rush of emotions that threatens to burst open; otherwise he’ll run the eighteen miles to atsumu’s apartment in the heart of osaka and maybe punch him on the face with his lips.

he sends a selfie of him like that; the doll clutched to his chest and his eyes a little wet, regardless a small but tender smile is directed at the camera and a blush high on his cheeks. love you, he sends with the picture; the sickly warmth of the love he feels for atsumu oozes in his chest when he receives a string of key smashes, heart emojis, and an ‘i love you too. so so so so much’ in response.

their love is bigger than the distance of twenty nine kilometres in between, and it’ll stay that way even when they meet again. 

autumn

“the v-league schedule has been moved earlier to january instead of april. there has been more—”

the words continue to ring in atsumu’s head like an annoying fly. it buzzes in his brain loudly, along with thoughts that start to sprout as more time passes. his serve is not ready. it’s not ready for the league at all, not with how his performance has been dwindling during practice. his teammates would argue that the serve is okay enough, but okay is never enough. it has to be perfect. it has to be perfect for him, perfect enough to ensure that points will be scored and perfect enough for his teammates to adapt to. but it hasn’t and atsumu’s stress levels have skyrocketed when the word january tumbles out of the manager as if january is not less than 6 months away when april is.

when the manager leaves, atsumu tries not to explode like a grenade.

“who thought it was a good idea scheduling them earlier? why wasn’t it even discussed amongst all the competing teams before making that decision?” atsumu groans, rubbing his face to avoid throwing a volleyball at the glass window that looks very breakable right now.

“dunno. but listen here, tsum-tsum!” bokuto takes his hands and beams. atsumu tries to smile back but fails. “we’re going to practice even harder and i’ll also help you with your serves! then we’ll go to competition, beat everyone’s asses and then you can see kita right after and spend a few months of holiday with him again!”

“kita…?” atsumu blinks.

oh.

shit.

kita!

his entire face drops when he can’t remember when was the last time they talked to each other.

when atsumu returns to his apartment, he drops everything to go flop down on his couch and scroll through his phone.

shin my beloved

Good luck for practice today, tsumu.

I love you.

me

thanks!

i love you too!

Read 10:46 am

he sighs. they haven’t had a proper conversation in forever. a conversation that lasts for hours instead of a few fleeting minutes. one where it wasn’t just a greeting or a farewell.

atsumu hits call.

days of blistering heat whilst working in the rice fields start to number out as the days grew colder. there’s less harvesting vegetables and more waiting by his phone for the familiar jingle of day 1 playing or the custom ringtone he’s made for a certain person’s texts (it’s atsumu calling out “kita-san!” from many years ago).

kita is atsumu-starved and he knows it.

when he’s not out on the farm, he’s in his bed with the atsumu doll held close while he imagines the real atsumu being there, hugging him from behind. the doll in his arms can’t compare with atsumu’s toned arms from volleyball, he thinks. from the pictures he’s seen on the msby team official account and several of the teammates accounts, they really do make kita miss being wrapped in his boyfriend’s embrace. 

the only good thing about having an instagram and twitter (made by atsumu after his constant whining) is for the updates he gets on atsumu. kita is happy to see the healthy glow on his face, or videos of him eating well with his teammates and having fun all the while practicing his serves and sets that are still strong as ever, if not even better. it doesn’t mean that kita does not feels a pang of sadness each time he remembers that they’re not a few blocks down, a few minutes away from each other anymore.

just as he’s playing with the small cotton arms of the doll and imitating one of his jump-float serves, when the real atsumu’s contact flashes on his phone screen.

“hey, shin.”

kita’s smile involuntarily widens at the greeting.

“hi, ‘tsumu. how have you been?”

“better now that i’m hearing your lovely voice.”

“what a charmer.”

“i sure hope you think so!” atsumu laughs. “how are the duckies?”

“the… duckies are alright, tsumu. i’m certain that they miss you, even though they’ve all grown up by now. they’re going to start laying eggs soon, and you’ll be home in time to see those eggs hatch.”

“oh… about that… i don’t think i will be home for that. v-league is starting earlier, in january, so i’ll need to be here in osaka until it’s over. i’m really sorry, shin,” atsumu’s voice starts to break, “i’m sorry we haven’t been talking much, and before you start, i meant an actual conversation where we just talk, y’know, and not just greet or wish each other a good day. i miss you so much, and those greetings do mean a lot to me but i just miss talking to you and hearing you talk about anything— and everything.”

“atsumu.” kita wishes to be there by his side, to hold him close. “don’t apologize. i knew what i was signing up for the moment i saw how passionate you were for volleyball. i miss you so much, too, and while coming home for winter would be amazing, it’ll be even more worthwhile after you win. i’ll watch your matches, cheer for your team and know that it's my boyfriend out there in that team, winning. i will miss you the entire time, knowing you are far away, but i will remind myself once more; we can see each other again in the spring. do not ever apologize for this because it’s nothing we can’t go through”

the line goes silent. kita wonders if he’s spoken too much. then he hears sniffling and starts to worry if he took it too far. “atsumu, i—”

“shinsuke. i love you so much.” kita wants to run all the way to osaka at the sound of atsumu’s voice sounding sad and cracked. “you’re too good for me, you know that? i can’t believe you’re forgiving your dumb boyfriend who’s complaining about how we haven’t talked much. i will make it up to you after the league is over, and i will try to say more than a greeting to you each day, because it’s not enough. you deserve more than half assery, you deserve the entirety of my love and the entire world itself.”

his heart is about to burst at the seams. “i love you, too, ‘tsumu. i am not good enough for you, but just enough. you are enough. simply loving me back, just as much as i love you, is enough for me. you— we, together are worth it.”

22 - 24

this is the last set, atsumu.

then you can go home and call kita.

23 - 24

why can’t his mind focus?

everything is too loud.

24 - 24

he missteps and the ball slips from his fingers.

it falls onto the floor. 

sakusa is eyeing him concerningly from where he’s standing.

atsumu would be concerned with himself, too.

24 - 25

bokuto manages a cross court shot.

their teammates roar with excitement at the set point.

atsumu manages a small smile.

24 - 26

atsumu serves.

his heart falls when the volleyball catches on the net, tipping over and onto the floor when—

one of the opposing spikers manages to save it.

it flies high, atsumu’s pulse beating along with every second that passes as it stays airborne.

then, it falls.

his feet move on its own accord as he prepares to set it.

when he does, his fingers flail for a moment.

hinata barely manages to spike it, but then—

“and hinata shoyo makes the final spike, making the msby jackals the victor of this match!”

atsumu lets out the breath he was holding in.

everyone crowds around hinata while he catches his breath. he sees their teammates high five each other, ruffle hinata’s head, and ask him to join in. the guilt in his heart dissipates for a moment as he allows himself to revel in the adrenaline rush of the victory.

he doesn’t know how he manages to get home. 

atsumu headed home after stopping by the after party for a short moment, accepting a few drinks and then feeling the guilt from earlier seeping back into his bones. sakusa still had a worried look on his face, and atsumu tells him not to worry, even after he gets a scoff in response.

he knows sakusa means well. the anxiety and fear had caught up to him in the final moments of the last set. even though it had been like any other match, the build up to that moment ever since those terrible serves during practice started to weigh in on his brain. thoughts of not being able to do well and meet up to his team and his fans’ expectations flooded his mind. how could he be thinking of those things in the middle of the match?

why did it only happen now, when it had never affected him before?

why is it only now that he cared so much?

he gets a few days off after the match. he tries to complain to get back on the court and practice again, but after the captain sees him serve a ball that goes directly into the net for the umpteeth time, he’s sent home.

atsumu’s new best friend is the ceiling. he spends minutes staring up at it in the dark of his apartment, the penguin plush in his arms. the room is illuminated by the glow of the moon in the clear osaka sky, and it’s pretty. it helps the time pass, looking up at the moonlight filtering in through the curtains, to clear the whirlwind thoughts in his mind. he stops himself from going on social media, knowing that seeing anything related to his performance in the previous match would just make his stress levels skyrocket to astronomical levels.

the moon has been a friend to him lately, too. it watches over him as he tries to sleep the anxiety away, on nights where he watches videos from his inarizaki days to reminisce, watching his younger self get drawn to his captain, orbiting naturally around kita like it’s second nature. 

it’s only natural, of course. atsumu has always wanted to stay by his side. he still does, to this day.

he wonders if kita still would want to be with him when he sees atsumu in this state.

on a night where atsumu has done nothing but ate ramen cup noodles and stayed in his bed, mindlessly scrolling through a new manga he’s started, kita calls.

Tonight, I'll send the glow of a firefly

to somewhere near your window

It's that I love you.

kita’s ringtone is playing, the one atsumu himself has set. it reminds him of kita in a way, though the song is in a different language altogether he still remembers the lyrics and how well they fit kita.

“hey, ‘tsumu. how are you feeling?”

something in atsumu’s heart twists. the concern laced in kita’s voice is not prominent, but it’s there. despite his promise, atsumu has forgotten to talk to kita lately. remembering how strict kita is about doing well both in practice and on the court, atsumu had grown anxious especially since he knew that kita most likely watched the match. it was stupid of him, knowing that kita has grown to be more softer around the edges over the year and that he wasn’t going to be that harsh on him, but his fears got to him first.

so now, with even more guilt chained around his heart, he mumbles out a greeting.

“i’m okay, shin. how are you?” he’s acting out of character, but he knows kita will catch on. he always does.

“i’m good as always, ‘tsumu. i’ve been trying to feed the ducks a new type of feed lately. they seem to like it.”

atsumu listens to kita talk about the ducks and shows him pictures of them swimming in the pond, a few blurry selfies with kita as he tries to avoid his hair being bitten, and videos of them following kita around the farm. atsumu feels better than he had all week, his heart feeling lighter with each giggle kita lets out while he fawns over the ducks, the way kita covers his face out of embarrassment when atsumu insists on video calling instead of only hearing his voice, and love and adoration he still holds in his eyes for atsumu with every sentence that comes out of his lips.

“oh! there’s another picture i want to show you.” kita sends a picture of a duck on the couch beside him. in the background the tv screen shows the close up of atsumu setting a ball. it’s cute, but then atsumu notices the face he’s making. it was the start of atsumu’s internal meltdown, when he started to perform terribly in the last match. 

“‘tsumu, are you sure you’re okay?” kita is frowning. atsumu’s face must’ve shown the change in emotion when he saw the picture.

“i told you i was fine, shin.” atsumu insists, wanting to escape the topic of volleyball. he is perfectly fine with talking about ducks, why did they have to go over to this topic? “the ducky is really cute sitting with you there. i hope you guys had fun.”

“we did, but i was also worried for you, ‘tsumu. i saw how troubled you look, the mistakes that you would be caught dead doing, and serves that you did on your bad days in highschool.”

blunt and straightforward as always. kita’s gaze is firm and perceptive.

“highschool was a long time ago, i’m not like that anymore.”

“yes, but i’m saying that on your bad days you still perform quite terribly. i know something’s wrong, ‘tsumu, and i think that talking about it will help make you feel better. don’t lie to me, i’ve seen your eyebags and how your state has worsened since the last time we talked. you barely talked when we first started the call, too, and you only ever stay quiet when you’re feeling anxious about something.

i’ve known you since highschool, so i don’t understand why you’re trying to hide how you’ve been feeling. i’ve given you space after watching that match, despite it being a victory i refrained myself from calling. as your boyfriend, i really wanted to come over and comfort you, reassure you that you did your best and that your efforts still led to the team winning. however, you deserve some space alone, too. and so i waited for you to feel better, but it has been days, ‘tsumu, and i’m really worried.

please, talk to me. we can work through this, we always have.”

kita’s words cut down on him. he knows all of it is true, how terrible he had performed, how he had been pushing everybody away to wallow on his own, and that hiding away from someone who has known him for years and has been there through many other things would not help him get any better. and yet, his mind betrays him and the rational part of atsumu gets thrown out the window.

“you don’t get it, do you?” kita flinches at his words, and while atsumu feels a pang of guilt he continues anyway. “the mistakes that i made are mine to deal with. i was the one who fucked up there out on the court, shin, i nearly cost the jackals to leave the competition early before the semi-finals. that’s how much i fucked up. it was because of my teammates that we’re able to win and move onto the next part of the competition. they were incredible enough to save the match while i just stood there, messing up each serve and set. it’s not with my help that we managed to win, but my fault that we nearly lost. it’s my fault i’m not prepared enough for the league, because i’m always distracted by thoughts of going back home to you!

i was thinking about how much i wanted to go back and call you because it was so overwhelming being there, under the bright lights that blind my vision and under the pressuring gaze of so many people that were not you. it was so bad, to the point where i felt like everything was too much and i just wanted to run home and be comforted in your arms. everything becomes so hard without you sometimes, and that day combined with how unprepared i was made me screw up.”

atsumu feels a few tears leaking out but he pushes on, unable to look up and see kita’s reaction to his words.

“feeling emotions like this on the court is not good for me, or the team. it distracts me from doing my best, and i fall upon thinking of you.”

“so you’re blaming me for the cause of your mistakes, atsumu?” the way kita says his name pierces right through his heart, a near-fatal blow that has him looking up to kita’s pained look. he looks close to tears himself, and atsumu starts to beat himself over for going too far, for spouting shit he didn’t think twice about.

“no—! i didn’t say that, shin—,”

“you say it’s my fault you get distracted. that our relationship is what causes your mind to lose focus during matches. what else would that mean, atsumu?” kita’s words are sharp and unforgiving, each one going straight through atsumu like a dagger, the words clogging up in his throat as his mind scrambles.

“god— it’s not like that, shinsuke! i never said that! why did i even say any of that, anyway? it’s not like you would understand, you’re not the one going pro!”

atsumu slaps a hand over his mouth, realizing what he says before he could stop it. it’s untrue, why did he say that? kita’s face is stoic and unreadable. it’s like their first meeting all over again, with atsumu’s immature words and kita’s strict gaze that always flits to him whenever he gets too arrogant and talks smack about his seniors. the regret he feels grips him almost entirely, the words in his mouth getting stuck as his outburst sinks in.

the room is silent, save for the fan that whirrs loudly in kita’s room and atsumu’s heavy breathing. an apology is stuck in his throat, but it doesn’t get out even when kita sighs disappointingly.

“i see. goodnight, atsumu.”

the call ends before he can manage another word out.

he stares down at his phone. his phone is open on their chat.

shin my beloved

Good luck for your match today, Tsumu.

I’ll be watching with one of the ducks today.

Whether you do well or not, I will still be proud of you.

I love you.

droplets of water fall onto the screen. atsumu wipes them to read the text again, only for them to keep coming down. only when he touches his face does he realize it was his tears. the emotions wash over him like a wave, the tears dropping endlessly with each breath he takes, each heartbeat feeling like the dagger in him is twisted even further as the reality of the situation sets in. remembering what kita’s face had looked like at the moment of his outburst has him crying even harder. 

why did he say all those hurtful things, even though all kita wanted to do was cheer him up?

kita had given him space, checked up on him after some time because he got worried, and then he got yelled at only when he was making sure that he’d been okay. kita was only being a good boyfriend and atsumu blamed him for being the reason behind his shit plays during the match when he knew that it was his fault and nobody else’s.

‘it’s not like you would understand, you’re not the one going pro!’

kita would understand. atsumu just didn’t give him a chance to.

atsumu is in the parking lot, practising his serves with plastic bottles; like he had done before in high school. he’s still banned from the msby gym, but he’s not banned from volleyball yet. he mumbles profanities when he misses the bottle again. after the argument with kita, his emotions have been in an even worse jumbled state than it was before. atsumu knows kita is just as affected, the lack of calls and texts from him clearly enunciating that he’d gone too far this time. their fights were never this big, never ending with him exploding like he did that night. he understands he still needs to cool off and sort his feelings out before they can talk again, but he still misses kita.

he hates that the last look kita had given him looked so broken. his eyes had been glassy with unshed tears, and the thought of making kita cry just made him want to cry again.

atsumu shakes his head to clear his mind and focus. if he wants to be able to face kita and apologize again, he needs to start with improving. and so, he puts more effort into the serves. with each bottle missed, he remembers all the times his teammates back in inarizaki had lifted him up to keep pushing.

even if suna had been filming his fails, he would still add a couple remarks on how to improve his stance for maximum efficiency.

even if osamu had been watching him flail with the volleyball, he would offer his own tips and a packet of onigiri he’d made the night before.

even if aran and the other third-years rolled their eyes at his constant whines of annoyance, they still ruffle his head and hype him up every time he gets a serve right.

and even if he laid down on the floor of the gym, sweat pouring down his face as he catches his breath, kita would help him up, praise him on his improvement, and give him the fond smile that atsumu noticed has only been reserved for him.

atsumu manages to get the last plastic bottle, when he remembers kita’s proud look.

as much as he loves the msby jackals, he doesn’t know if they’ll be enough to fill in the gaps of how alone he has felt; the years of pent up loneliness building up since the moment of his graduation from inarizaki. he misses everyone from home even some of them are a few minutes away; barriers that phone calls and texts can overcome. but there’s eighteen kilometres away from the one he truly misses, and a wall of uncertainty and regret after the last time they faced each other.

in the season where the leaves fall as quickly as his tears, atsumu feels all alone.

winter

they haven’t talked since the fight.

well, a proper conversation where they communicate and talk about their feelings, where they went wrong, etcetera.

kita, busy with making sure the farm was prepared for the cold days that were to come, doesn’t check his phone that often. he can’t bear to look at the chat, remembering the last texts he sent was on the day of the argument. he spends his days in the duck pen, replacing the blankets for the ducks every few days, monitoring the saplings in the greenhouse, or practicing his knitting with his grandma.

they fill in the gaps that were left empty since that night, but they never seem to fill the cracks like atsumu did. his presence was the ribbon that tied everything in kita’s life together, the cherry on top to complete him whole.

in a couple weeks it would be christmas. if atsumu really wasn’t coming home, it would be the first one kita spends without him since middle school. thinking about how atsumu won’t bring back gifts from osaka and excitedly watch as kita’s family opens them, his kitchen quiet of the cheesy christmas pop songs atsumu plays in the background while they bake cookies together, and the cold empty space behind him that is void of atsumu, who will snore until the morning comes but will keep his arms protectively around kita as they sleep the snowy day away.

kita puts his knitting needles down.

he knows that they both acted irrationally that night. he knew atsumu had enough on his plate, that the pressure built up the moment he found out that he was to play earlier than expected. and he had to go and make it worse, adding on to the string that was on the brink of breaking by having atsumu talk to him when he was not ready yet, until it eventually snapped.

what atsumu said did hurt. it pained him to hear that the cause of his distraction was their relationship, even if he didn’t mean it. 

‘it’s my fault i’m not prepared enough for the league, because i’m always distracted by thoughts of going back home to you! ’

it was still said, and upon hearing it had caused kita to feel a stab so deep that kept twisting itself deeper until he snapped, too.

the distance is hard. it is not as easy as they make it to be. there will always be factors leading up to an eventual fight, leading to both parties being hurt in the process. it’s not avoidable, and they had to unfortunately be hit with it in the months where they feel the most lonely without the other. it’s only natural to snap at each other when it’s no longer easy to bear being seperated.

but it also doesn’t justify blowing up at each other and just ignoring the problem as a whole when it’ll end up becoming an even bigger problem.

kita looks over to his phone.

a notification pops up, turning his phone on. it’s from a game he’s installed to also help pass the time.

his call log is still devoid of incoming missed calls, the messaging app only filled with texts from his family and ex-teammates he still keeps in touch with.

none from atsumu.

he worries. when it comes to atsumu, all his logic flies out the window. his level headed and aloof nature turns to mush each time he listens to atsumu talk about his day, giggling along with jokes that kita would never be caught dead laughing at if another person were to say it. he gets endeared by every single thing his boyfriend does, turns red the moment atsumu gets affectionate with him even though they’ve been dating for years, and there’s not a single day of not missing the quiet moments they shared together; or a day that he doesn’t go loving him despite their petty fights.

he stares at the lock screen till it fades into black. he thinks of how atsumu has his next match in a few days. that maybe even if atsumu was still mad at him, the least kita could do was to go there to osaka in person and still support him the best he could. that kita could go back to hyogo after the match, knowing that atsumu is still doing okay after all that’s happened.

so he plans a trip, makes sure to book tickets for the day of atsumu’s match, to make sure to tell his granny that he would be gone for a few days, reminds the employees of the farm on what they should do in case of an emergency at the farm; distracting him from the texts that start to trickle in the days leading up to his leave.

his phone stays on do not disturb on the day before the trip, and he falls asleep at night to the songs in a playlist that he and atsumu compiled together, dreaming of bleached hair and a grin that grows larger with every step he takes. unbeknownst to him, a missed call joins his unread notifications.

“ sorry, the number you’re calling—”

the automated message goes off for the 4th time that day. atsumu’s frown deepens.

the first missed call yesterday was understandable. he knows that kita wouldn’t be too keen on picking up yet, but the second and third missed call is starting to worry him.

he really fucked up this time, didn’t he?

volleyball or kita.

volleyball was his entire life, it had been since he was a child and the moment he saw how setting the ball could bring out the best in a spiker no matter who they were, he was also set on having volleyball as his future. 

well, that was the plan until his first year of highschool; his first meeting with a grey haired boy in the inarizaki gym.

at first, he found the boy— kita —quite odd. how could he not, when he’s watched how precise and practiced kita’s movements are despite not being a regular? and even when atsumu gets told of his blunt personality by the upperclassmen, how he has the utmost faith in his skills both on and off the court, and the strict routine he goes through everyday; he gets more intrigued.

one day, he stayed back to clean volleyballs with kita after practice. osamu and suna left first, but not without snickering one last time when they watched him stumble after kita had looked at him inquisitively.

“why are you staying back?” kita asked.

“uh, cuz i wanted to help clean and keep you company, kita-san!” he answered a little too loudly, cringing inwardly when it echoed in the large gym.

“i see. it is not needed, but i appreciate it.” kita nodded and went back to cleaning the volleyball.

atsumu didn’t know the real reason for staying back then, but the more he did, the more he learned about kita with each passing day.

eventually, a day came where kita smiled at him for the first time.

the jump float serve he was practising on for awhile finally succeeded, the ball going over akagi and landing in the opposite court by a hair.  he turned immediately to kita, who had already been watching him. “i did it! kita-san! did you see that? i managed to do it, and it didn’t go out of bounds! finally!” 

“i did, atsumu. great job.” then kita smiled, so small but so radiant. 

it sent atsumu’s heart soaring like the way he first set a ball for the first time, pounding loud in his ears in the familiar way it did after winning a long match. even if later on kita told him that he could still do better and improve the move better, it didn’t stop the sapling of feelings from burying itself in atsumu’s heart.

the sapling continued to grow, watered by the small praises kita rains down on him from time to time. in his second year after the match with karasuno, it received a large thunderstorm.

“...now that we’re here, i’m wishing i had more chances to brag about you all, showing off to everybody how amazing all my teammates are.”

the rainfall was occasional. it happened when they went against karasuno in the next year, when he graduated from school, got scouted to join the msby jackals right after, and when kita pulled him aside after his graduation ceremony to confess.

sharing their first kiss outside the gym with the last of snow melting away, the plants around them blooming; his love for kita blossoming from the seed of feelings buried long ago, rivaling his love for volley for the first time.

volleyball or kita?

“well, i think you could love both.”

“huh?” a voice startles him back to the present. right. he’s in the msby locker rooms and moping over his boyfriend again. atsumu was allowed back into practice after he apologized to his teammates despite their protests. he’s starting to get the confidence back again and is accepting help and feedback from both his coach and teammates.

kita’s contact stares up at him from his phone, almost mockingly.

“i said you could love both, tsum-tsum.” bokuto sits beside him on the bench. “kita probably makes you way more happier, though. i love volleyball a whole lot, too. like you, it’s my entire life. it’s literally our entire career!” 

bokuto laughs before talking again, his expression turning softer.

“when i see keiji and tetsurou sitting up there in the stands amongst all those other people, i feel loved. knowing they’ll be proud of me regardless of the results later on, it’s what makes me love my boyfriends and volleyball without having to choose one over the other. but of course, if i had to, i’ll choose them in a heartbeat. they are the reasons i continue to wake up and play, because i know they’d surely kill me if i drop everything just for them. so i continue to play and do my best! i keep going ‘cuz even if i do fall, they’ll be there to pick me back up and push me on to go and try again. winning a game is amazing, and i get that, but it feels so much better when i win and knowing my boyfriends were also cheering me on. oh, don’t get me started on the stuff after the win—”

“you don’t need to get started on that, actually.” sakusa groans from somewhere behind him.

“okay! anyway, the point is that while volleyball is my life, the people i love are the reasons i continue to love it. that’s how you can choose both, tsum-tsum.”

atsumu stays quiet, because what bokuto says makes so much sense. why has he spent the last few weeks being overly worried over not being able to see kita, messing up during practice and in game, and pushing away everybody because he can’t bring himself to get up and improve on what’s wrong;  when in spite of everything kita still had been understanding and supported him through it?

if his life were to come crashing down, kita would be the one to help him pick the pieces and they would fix it, together.

“woah, bokuto-san! you sounded so cool!” hinata, who had been listening to the entire conversation, claps as bokuto laughs with him. “by the way, atsumu-san! in my opinion, i don’t think you have to choose one, but we all know which option you’d prioritize more.”

“i… also agree with those two idiots.” all three of them swivel their head to look at sakusa with surprised expressions. “when it comes down to it, the person you love will be the ultimatum. volley can’t bring the same sense of home and comfort compared to a real person who loves you back, as much as you love them.”

“woah… omi-san… you’re so cool, too!” sakusa pushes hinata’s arms down before he can start clapping again.

kita… kita is home. even if he loves volleyball, it doesn’t have the same love he feels in kita’s actions. kita’s hugs, the way kita would simply shake his head and cover him in a blanket when he passes out early, his sleepy ‘good morning’ whenever he oversleeps in the morning, the kisses that are so tender and sweet; it really can’t compare to anything else in the world.

loving and being loved by kita shinsuke is more than volleyball.

and he cannot lose that love, he one good thing in his life that keeps him going.

atsumu takes a deep breath. here’s to the stupidest thing he’s done in a long time. “can somebody—” 

“i’m already on it. just go.” sakusa is already out the door, giving him a thumbs up. when he looks at bokuto and hinata, they’re nodding at a speed that could probably break their necks and their own thumbs up.

“okay!”

because atsumu is stupid and in love, he runs in the rain.

he runs to the station even if he could literally use the shuttle bus there, even if osamu’s car is still in the msby parking lot, he still fucking runs what should be a 10 minute drive, and is still thrumming with stupidity and adrenaline when he arrives. the cold, biting winter breeze is freezing and through the layers he’s wearing, but he withstands and keeps running anyway.

he’s tripping over himself when he reaches the ticket stand, and buys the ticket for the last train back to hyogo while trying to catch his breath.

the anticipation does not stop even when he’s waiting for the train to arrive, his entire body buzzing at the thought of going back home. he would probably have to run again all the way to the outskirts of town, to where kita’s farm is located, and then seeing kita again. he’d probably immediately get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, imagining kita’s broken expression over and over again as he zones out, just thinking of kita, kita, kita—

“atsumu?”

kita?

when the train to hyogo stops in front of him, the whoosh of the doors opening happens the same time he sees kita stand beside the bench he’s sat at, his breath getting knocked out of his lungs.

“shin?” kita is bathed in the moonlight, and the world holds its breath for a moment as they stare at one another.

and he is still as beautiful as ever.

and when atsumu sits there and continues to look at kita, he thinks that in a way, the moon and he are similar.

atsumu, bright and beautiful as said by his classmates, fans and everyone he meets, is only gazing upon one person. the person who he stays beside for, for the light that brightens the actual star, his earth; kita.

kita who stays with him in the light of day and dark of night, who still loves him regardless of his flaws, and lightens up his pitch-black ocean like a bright star. kita who looks at him as much as atsumu does, who makes warmth blossom in his heart and turns his dark days to ones where the blue sky runs endlessly.

kita, the earth who he’ll protect in the pitch black night without a second thought, his reason to shine more brightly.

atsumu stands up quickly without a second thought at how drenched he is; he hugs kita, the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he finally breathes after feeling underwater for so long. relief floods through him when kita hugs him back just as tightly. kita’s frame is slightly shaking when atsumu pulls back, being greeted with the sight of kita sobbing.

his usual collected demeanour is nowhere to be seen as tear after tear continuously rolls down his face, his glassy eyes staring up to atsumu’s, his face scrunching up even further when atsumu cups his cheeks.

“shin? breathe for me, okay?” he is close to tears himself, his voice breaking around the edges while he gestures to sit down. but he can’t stand to see kita cry so brokenly. they sit on the benches side by side, kita’s head on atsumu’s shoulder as he tries to breathe in between sobs, their hands tightly woven together as atsumu whispers praises to his temple and softly pats his hair.

they stay rooted to the spot even after calming down. kita plays with his fingers, then interlaces them together. he’s still quiet, and atsumu thinks that kita hasn’t let himself cry ever since they fought, until just now.

“shin?”

“hmm?”

“look at me.”

atsumu wipes away the few stray tears that linger there. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m also sorry, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu furrows his eyebrows. “you’re apologizing again for something i did.”

“no. i’m apologizing for pressuring you to talk to me after you’ve been going through so much in the last month. i should have just waited for you to talk to me when you felt better. i’m sorry i also came, i just thought that i’d come to check on you since you didn’t call, and also to support you from the stands in person.”

having kita right here in the moment, in his arms after so long, makes the words spill out like a running faucet. 

“don’t apologize for checking up on me. i was the one who blew things out of proportion. before you called me i had been moping for, what, five days? i got kicked out of the gym because i refused help from my teammates and kept failing my serves, sets and spikes. i could have accepted it, but i didn’t because i had been convinced it was entirely my fault for nearly losing. after we fought, you made me realize that i really had been an ass for these past few weeks to not only you, but other people in my life, too. 

refusing help and pushing everyone away because i think it’s my own problem to deal with was an awful decision i made… at that time i didn’t think that it’d affect everyone around me because i was so set on this burden being mine to handle. i forgot that we go through these things together as a team, and that one person shouldn’t be left to carry the stress on their own. 

you were there for me and past me was blinded by the almost loss to see that. you’ve always been by my side for so long i didn’t want to burden you with anything more, and stupid me was scared you were starting to get tired of days where we don’t talk because of how busy i am. i didn’t mean to say our relationship was distracting, and nothing will justify it because i could have worded it better and we could've talked it out together. the way i reacted was awful and hurt you, because even if i wasn’t in the mood to talk i should have responded without having the need to blow up. sometimes i don’t know why you still put up with my crap, why you’ve always been so nice to me, but it does make me want to improve.

you make me want to become a better person. you have taught me a lot of things since we were teammates and when we started dating, and it helped to shape the person i am today. i can’t bear to imagine losing you and i want to apologize for all the hurt i caused. rather than losing your love i’d drop volleyball altogether, because i love you so much. i would choose you everyday, over everything, because words can’t describe the way you mean to me. i love you, kita shinsuke, so please continue to stay with me.”

“atsumu… i would never leave you, idiot.” kita sighs, pressing their foreheads together. “this is not me putting up with you, this is me loving you for who you are because i signed up for it. i’ve always known what i’d be getting into ever since i fell in love regardless of your hot-headed personality. you will never ever be a burden to me, ‘tsumu. every now and then, the stress can get to us, but we also have to remember that there are people who love and would be willing to help. i know that, because on days where i don’t feel like myself, you’re there to catch me when i fall. handling everything alone is not healthy and will eventually explode in your face because it is too much for one person to carry. volleyball is a team sport, everybody on your side is an ally that will support you. 

it’s the same with relationships, in a way. 

we’re on the same side, atsumu. i will always be by your side no matter what, supporting you from the sidelines and pushing you to be your very best. i love you regardless, and even if you do have flaws, that is just you being human. and being human is okay. we’ll be at fault sometimes, but it doesn’t mean we won’t be able to work on them. so keep doing volley, because if you drop out of the league i’ll actually kill you myself before any of your members can.”

atsumu laughs, having missed kita’s snarky lines. kita smiles back, gently caressing his cheek.

“i forgive you, by the way. yes, you did blow things out of proportion after cracking under all the pressure. we could have avoided this if you just told me you weren’t ready to talk yet, but i wonder if you would’ve even told me later on knowing how stubborn you are. the fact that you were not listening to your teammates either further proves my point. 

please, don’t carry the burden and stress alone, ‘tsumu, you will never have to feel lonely either, ‘cause everyone who loves you is here for you. i will be right here with you. when you first you burst through the inarizaki gym doors with your terribly bleached hair and the fire in your eyes roaring away, you became a part of every day in my life. my routine was even more screwed after i fell in love with you, but having you screw it up was welcomed in my life, ‘tsumu. because you are my new routine. 

you are a whirlwind of passion and love that i would willingly jump into, that i’d willingly follow because i made up my mind ever since you looked at me with so much love in your eyes after we confessed, that whatever life throws at us, knowing that we’ll go through it together.

i look forward to every day we have, because i know that whether it’s eighteen miles or a few inches away, we’ll eventually be together again. being with you is something i don’t regret, and never will. for all four seasons and twelve months, miya atsumu, i will love and stay with you always.”

then kita leans up to kiss him, his lips are soft as atsumu remembers them to be, his fingers in atsumu’s unruly damp hair to pull him even closer. the peach chapstick kita uses is sweet on his tongue, and when paired with the smell of home, rain and just kita, is making a few tears slide down because he missed this, missed kita, so much. with every slot of their lips it’s like he’s taking a breath of fresh air after months of suffocation, so he kisses his boyfriend over and over again, chasing the continuous euphoria he feels high on.

they are impossibly close already, with atsumu’s arms wrapped around kita’s middle, but even so kita moves to sit on his lap and it’s like everything suddenly fits into place. the way kita kisses him, how atsumu’s heart beats quickly like a hummingbird’s wings; it’s all so familiar and perfect.

that under the dingy light of the station, the rain pouring down around them is just as large as the flood that washes down on the wilted flower in atsumu’s heart, the bud blooming anew as atsumu kisses kita’s pliant lips, his grip on kita’s waist like an anchor in the middle of a stormy ocean.

because being with kita in the winter, and staring up into his eyes as they take a moment to breathe, everything feels just right.

(“by the way… where were you planning on staying if you didn’t know if i was alright or not?”

“ huh? oh… i didn’t really think about that.”

“woah, kita shinsuke being so worried to the point he forgets where he was going to stay?”

“if you don’t shut up, i won't let you kiss me anymore.”)

when the next match comes, kita comes to watch. on the stands, he sits with akaashi, kuroo and kenma, suna sitting on his left.

and when the match comes to a start, when atsumu scans the crowds and spots kita, clad in atsumu’s spare jersey and his hoodie with a gentle smile on his face, it’s all he needs to get pumped for the game.

after practicing for countless days, getting assessment from his teammates and fueled with the encouragement he receives from his loved ones, atsumu does his best. it’s not a surprise to his teammates when he performs spectacularly, not with the growth he made and that kita is in his clothes watching him in real time.

the match progresses, and they’re in the lead. the opponent receives the serve that bokuto sends, the ball flying high. atsumu goes in position when he sees the ball flying in his direction, and pushes the ball back up. it goes to sakusa, who spikes it down almost immediately, sending the crowd into a frenzy the moment it touches the opposite court.

in the last set, they’ve reached the set point. it’s atsumu’s turn to serve and he glances over to the stands, where kita is still watching. the sight of kita using his clothes in public, announcing to the world that he is atsumu’s and vice versa, makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter about. so, atsumu grabs this opportunity to show that he is kita’s, and kita’s only.  

“this one’s for you, babe!” he yells to the stands, seeing kita turn red for a quick second before he jumps up, swinging his hand down to serve. it’s good, and it almost lands a point until one of the opposing players receives it.

it feels an awful lot of deja-vu, but this time his mind is not muddled by any worries, knowing that he can easily recover from that fault. when the ball returns to their court, together with hinata they manage to execute a quick attack, which successfully wins them the point.

they win the match, and everyone goes wild. this time he hugs all his teammates, putting his arms around bokuto and hinata while they stand there on the court, breathing heavily with smiles on their faces.

“i thought that was awesome of you when you called out to kita-san, atsumu-san! and then when you set the ball to me and i spiked it down, that was really cool, too! i think kita-san is going to swoon over you.”

atsumu snickers and ruffles hinata’s head. “i bet kozume-san thought you were cool back there too, shoyo-kun.”

“hey! what about me? don’t you think keiji and tetsu would think i was cool, too?” bokuto pouts and whines like a petulant child. for a moment atsumu wonders how his boyfriends put up with this overgrown baby, and realizes that he acts like this with kita sometimes, too. so he rolls his eyes good naturedly and pats his friend’s arm.

“yeah, otherwise they wouldn’t have come all the way to osaka, and wouldn’t be walking towards you right now.” bokuto tilts his head questioningly, and then gets pulled into a bone crushing hug by kuroo. akaashi nods at atsumu and hinata before both of his boyfriends drag him into the hug.

“well, i’m going to go first, atsumu-san! kenma’s waiting for me by the entrance, and we’re going to go eat lunch after this. i’ll see you later!” hinata waves at him and runs to the entrance, where he gets kissed on the cheek by his boyfriend.

atsumu then remembers his own boyfriend, and gets excited himself when he goes to the locker rooms to change and collect his bag. when he steps out, kita is there waiting for him. he doesn’t wait to run up to kita and lift him up, ignoring the complaints he makes when he spins them around. kita gives in and wraps his arms around atsumu’s shoulder, not protesting when atsumu kisses his cheeks. when atsumu cradles his face and leans in for an actual kiss, kita responds eagerly. it doesn’t matter that they are still in public and can be seen by anyone, because happiness is coursing through his veins at the victory and that kita is here, to cheer on him and greet him with a kiss after the match is over.

it’s one of those moments he cherishes with his entire heart, one where he wishes time would freeze so he can enjoy it for a moment longer.

when he sets kita down after one last kiss, kita’s head rests on his chest. “congrats on winning, ‘tsumu.”

“i was only able to do it with the help of my team and you being here. i thought having you watch me up from up there in my clothes would distract me the entire game, but instead i was even more focused!”

kita hums, amused. “and yet you go absolutely feral when i wear them at home.”

atsumu’s face burns at the comment, heat flooding his face when he stares down at kita who smiles at him sweetly. “shin! we’re in public!”

“you had no problem calling me that nickname in front of national tv earlier, though.”

“that’s different!” atsumu whines in embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of kita’s neck.

“sure it is, ‘tsumu.” kita gleefully says, patting his head. “now, let’s go home. i thought of decorating your apartment for christmas, because even if we are not in hyogo right now, we should still celebrate it together.”

“aww, shin,” atsumu lifts his head to plant a kiss on kita’s forehead. “you’re so cute. i’m happy that you’re with me for christmas. christmas without you would just not be christmas at all, too.”

kita sighs, and it makes atsumu laugh, pulling him close to hug him again.

and when they’re back in atsumu’s apartment, kita thinks that he’s glad they’re with each other in the beginning and end of the year. atsumu scrambles around to bake the cookies while kita hangs up the ornaments on the small tree they bought earlier, and it’s just as domestic as they’ve always been. 

after going through the rollercoaster of the seasons of this year, from spring to winter, they’re love has barely wavered at all. they love each other just as much, if not even more, and it makes it all the more worth it.

at the end of the day, kita doesn’t see the big deal in choosing a favorite season. 

the spring reminds him of atsumu speaking softly to the ducks, sleeping in bed while the rain storms away outside, and mornings spent in the market. summer is sunny smiles, tanned skin, a penguin plush sitting on atsumu’s bed, eighteen miles way. when the leaves start to fall, it reminds him of quiet days, short but sweet texts sent and hundreds of emojis or stickers in their chat, lonely nights where he stares up at the moon. and when winter comes it’s healing together, kisses in the rain until they’re both breathless, attending volleyball matches in his boyfriend’s jersey and double dates with atsumu’s friends. 

in every season, atsumu is there with him. kita falls in love with every season in tandem to falling in love with atsumu.

so if someone ever asks him what his favorite season was, he’d smile to himself for a second, before replying: “all of them.”