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Atsumu has not just had a horrible day, but he feels like he’s had a horrible life.
Being alone didn’t help, it made the days where things got bad worse than they should be. He felt like a bother to everyone in his life nowadays. He didn’t want to text his brother and bother him, or any of his friends or family in that matter. He felt that just about everyone was insanely annoyed with him all the time and he couldn't do anything to fix it.
Whenever he would text Osamu he felt like he received the shortest answers back. “Yeah,” “Okay,” “Sounds good,” “That sucks,” “Thanks,” he could go on.
Whatever he did he felt like it wasn’t enough, and he didn’t want to bother him at all, especially not over something like this. Him and Suna claimed that they missed him, but that was difficult when he knew if he showed up there they would force him to eat, and he did not want to do be forced into that.
He didn’t tell anyone when he stopped eating as much as normal or when he started self-harming. It felt like the only thing other than volleyball that was consistent in his life, that he had control over. He didn’t want to worry people, but at the same time, would anyone even care? He didn’t think so. He assumed Osamu had some theories about what he was doing, but he never mentioned anything about it. It probably meant he didn’t care all that much.
He’s had a shit day, so obviously it was okay to do, right? It was what he deserved for not performing his best in practice, not eating all day, and not taking care of himself like he should have been doing.
Punishment like this was what he came to know. He thought at first that if he did something like this to himself to get back on track then everything would balance itself out.
But he never ended up stopping. When he started, he just couldn’t stop. Something about it was comforting, almost even felt good.
He was disappointed in himself for it, but he also didn’t want to not do it.
Because of this, his arms were now bloodied like usual on these kinds of nights. Turning slightly bruised, and he covered it up with the nearest dark-colored hoodie he could find so it wouldn’t be noticeable.
Everything today was just too much, he felt too overwhelmed with all of it. He was hungry but didn’t want to eat and wanted to talk to his brother but didn’t want to bother him. The only other thing he wanted right now was volleyball, but he also didn’t have the motivation to do that right now. He was in a slump that felt too deep to climb out of. It was incredibly draining.
The tears started to brim in his eyes, and he cried and cried until he just couldn’t stop, tears soaking the top of the hood and making his face all red and puffy.
Nothing recently felt right. It also didn’t help that the guy he had a crush on didn’t seem to give him the time of day. Sakusa Kiyoomi, his teammate, was always giving him shit at practices, never going out with the team, seeming as if he hated Atsumu. But he could be nice sometimes; Atsumu could see a hidden soft spot, hidden deep, deep down inside him. He probably just wasn’t good with emotions - Atsumu couldn’t blame him, he had never been good at expressing things either.
Maybe he should call Osamu, even though he might be busy. He couldn’t stop crying and his wrists hurt like hell. This was one of the worst nights he’s ever had and spiraling deeper into a huge hole was incredibly hard to get out of alone.
Through tears he blurrily typed on his phone to Osamu, hoping he’d get a response soon.
He laid down in bed facing the ceiling, holding the insides of his wrists tightly against his chest trying to take some of the pain away, but it wasn’t really helping. Maybe he didn’t necessarily want it to stop though because now he felt guilty about texting Osamu.
His phone buzzed next to him and he slowly turned over to look at the notification.
Text from Atsumu:
can you come over i don’t wanna be alone
i'm sorry i need help are you free
Text from Omi-Omi:
?
Shit, shit, shit, he thought, messily typing back.
Text from Atsumu:
i'm so sorry that was meant for osamu
pretend i never sent that
Atsumu hit the side of his head hard with his palm, more tears streaming down his face.
God, I am such an idiot, he thought.
This was probably the universe's way of saying not to contact Osamu right now since he tried and obviously did it wrong. He didn’t deserve the help anyway.
Maybe sleeping would help, just forgetting all of his problems. He climbed under the covers and buried his face in his pillow, trying to stop the sobs that were coming out the best he could. He hadn’t stopped crying in hours. It was starting to hurt really, really bad.
What felt like a few minutes went by and then he heard heavy knocking on the front door of his apartment. He hoped it was Osamu, but obviously it wouldn’t be unless his twin instincts had really just kicked in. Maybe it was the apartment complex owner saying that he was kicked out for crying too loud and disturbing the neighbors.
He slowly got up from his bed, eyeing himself in the mirror first to make sure he didn’t look too rough, which didn’t do much because he looked like shit. His face was completely red and puffy with bloodshot eyes. He wiped away his tears pulling the sleeves of his hoodie to his fingertips and slowly walked to the door as the knocking was continuously getting louder.
“Miya if you don’t open this door right now I’m kicking it down!” He heard someone yell from outside. Well shit, now he has someone angry with him. The knocking stopped and it was replaced with kicking towards the bottom.
He opened the front door slowly peeking out and his face dropped when he saw Kiyoomi standing there eyeing him suspiciously.
“What are ya doing here? Can I help ya?” Atsumu asked, faking a small smile on his face trying his best to seem like everything was fine.
“You don’t look good, are you sick?” Kiyoomi asks, raising a brow confused.
Of course he didn’t look good, he was having the shittiest night ever.
He faked some coughs and managed to spit out “Yeah I’m super sick, you shouldn’t be around me right now. Don’t wanna spread it. Y’know, cause ya hate germs so much and everything, I should get going. I’ll see ya on Monday for practice.”
“Wait-” Kiyoomi started, sliding his hand through the door as Atsumu was slamming it closed, only to be stopped quickly by the side of his shoe holding it open. Kiyoomi quickly opened the door back open all the way this time, stepping into the middle.
“What the hell are you doing? That was dangerous. I told you I was sick; I know you don’t wanna be around me when I’m filled with germs. Look, I’m sorry for texting ya, I didn’t mean it, ya don’t even gotta worry about it.” Atsumu says, looking him up and down as he stands still in the doorway, just noticing his eyes are now staring down at his hands. He looks down and sees there’s still specks of blood from earlier on his fingers, hopefully he doesn’t read too much into that. “Are ya even listening?” He spits out this time, now angry that he might’ve noticed he might not actually be sick.
Kiyoomi steps further inside, shutting the door and starts taking off his shoes, “thanks for letting me in.”
“What?! I did not let you in!” Atsumu yells out. This guy is a jackass, he thinks.
Kiyoomi then grabs his wrist softly and starts yanking him away from the door.
“What are you doing?!”
“Where’s your first aid kit?”
Atsumu’s head starts spinning, “In the bathroom but-” Kiyoomi yanks harder and he lets out a squeak, just continuing to follow him.
Kiyoomi gets to the bathroom and opens the door, “go in.”
“First ya barge into my apartment, and now you're ordering me around?! The hell is this?” Atsumu asks shakily and confused.
“Hurry the hell up.” Kiyoomi says, putting his hands on Atsumu’s back and gently pushing him inside the room.
“What’re ya manhandling the sick guy for, huh? Mr. I hate germs.” Atsumu asks, mockingly sweating.
“You’re such a liar, I know you’re not actually sick.” He says, kneeling down to look under the sink for the first aid kit and pulling it out.
“What the hell.” Atsumu whispers.
“Can you sit on the counter?” Kiyoomi asks, pulling his mask off his face and Atsumu raises a brow at him. “Please?” He asks again, quietly and softer this time.
“C’mon, so now ya decide to be polite?” Atsumu bickers back.
“Can you just sit on the counter?” He asks, pinning him against the countertop this time and catching his stray hand in the air, trying to calm him down.
“Why?!” Atsumu says, now complying and sitting on the edge of the marble while Kiyoomi goes back to grab the first aid kit.
“I just want to help. Okay?” He says, looking back at Atsumu with a serious look, then returning to the first aid kit.
“Okay.” Atsumu whispers, as he watches him looking intently through the box. Kiyoomi then places a hand on Atsumu’s lower thigh, making sure he doesn’t try to run away again.
He turns back to Atsumu and leans on the ground, grabbing his hand softly and looking at the dried blood on his fingers. Atsumu sits there patiently, watching his eyes flicker back and forth from the first aid box to his fingers, hoping that he doesn’t-
Kiyoomi pushes his sleeve up quickly, leaving Atsumu there with a pale face and a stopped heart while he wraps his hand around his wrist. Kiyoomi just stares at him, waiting for a response.
“Would ya believe me if I said a cat did that?” He slightly laughs, but Kiyoomi just continues to blankly stare at him. “No?” He stutters.
Kiyoomi looks back down at his arms and pulls out a cotton ball to start cleaning up the blood while Atsumu just watches, his heart refusing to pick back up.
“I know we’re in off season right now,” Kiyoomi starts, “but you still need to be taking care of yourself, Miya.” He continues patting the cotton balls on Atsumu’s dried blood, cleaning up his fingers first and wrapping them in tape before he works his way up to clean his arms and wrap them up as well.
“You’re not gonna ask about it...?” Atsumu whispers a mumble.
Kiyoomi looks back up at his eyes, “do you want me to?”
“Not really.” Atsumu says back, looking away from him now, the eye contact starting to scare him off more.
“Then I won’t.” Kiyoomi says back, and Atsumu doesn’t respond. Both of them staying insanely quiet while Kiyoomi works at his wounds.
The concentrated look on Kiyoomi’s face makes Atsumu’s heart do a weird flutter, and he feels guilty for thinking that way after all the unwanted hell he’s putting the other boy through right now.
“Ya sure do care about me a lot, huh?” Atsumu jokes, trying to relieve the pressure. Maybe it’ll even speed things up and get Kiyoomi out of his home so he can process this guilt and embarrassment in peace.
“I do.”
What? Atsumu thinks. He has never acted like this before.
“I do care about you, a lot.” Kiyoomi puts it simply as he continues working.
“Why?” Atsumu asks, concerned, almost sadly. Kiyoomi quickly picks up his head to look Atsumu in the eyes only to find the most confused, guilt wracked face that makes Kiyoomi’s stomach churn.
“What do you mean, why?” He asks back, setting the bloodied cotton ball into the trash and stretching to get more bandage wrap.
“I mean, I just don’t-” Atsumu gasps, “understand why-” he stops abruptly.
I don’t understand why you would care for someone like me… He can’t say what he’s really thinking, he can’t get the words out.
“I don’t…” He can feel tears starting to prick his eyes and he looks widely at the wall behind Kiyoomi, instances of friends saying things to him flashing through his mind.
The time Osamu came by his apartment to drop off food from Onigiri Miya and scolded him on why he needs to start eating better, especially because he’s a professional athlete.
Teammates at practice asking him if he’s feeling alright and bringing him water bottles after getting lightheaded and needing to sit out during drills because he was on the brink of passing out.
Suna seeing him at a game and telling him to stop by the restaurant at some point because it feels empty without him. Saying that Osamu and himself miss seeing him around all the time.
Don’t start crying. You’re not gonna cry. Don’t start crying, you can’t start crying right now.
“What’re ya even doing here right now Omi?” Atsumu asks, covering his eyes with his bandaged up hands. “You could’ve just left; you should’ve done that. If this is about the text I said I was sorry, that I didn’t mean it. You could have ignored it like you always do with texts, so why are ya here?” The tears start streaming out and he quickly wipes them away before they slide all the way down his cheeks. “Ya could walk away right now and I wouldn’t blame ya at all.”
Stop crying, idiot.
“I’m not gonna do that.” Kiyoomi abruptly, cutting him off. “Can you look at me? Please?”
Atsumu turns his head away, covering his face with two hands now and leaning his elbows on his knees so he can prop himself up.
Kiyoomi stands in front of him concerned now, “Miya.” He says, but the boy only budges to look away from him again towards the side wall, covering his sniffling face and continuing to wipe away his tears.
“Atsumu.” Kiyoomi says. He's never called him by his real name before.
Kiyoomi reaches his hand to the side of Atsumu’s face and turns the boy to look straight at him, and when he does his face is completely pink again, tears streaming down his face and filling his eyes while he cries. Kiyoomi swears right then his heart completely shattered.
He stands fully, bringing Atsumu towards him and the crying boy just engulfs him in a hug, sobbing violently. Kiyoomi would usually hate this kind of thing, but right now he doesn’t care if Atsumu cries all over favorite sweater.
He brings his other hand that's not wrapped around Atsumu’s back up to his hair and starts running his fingers through it. With this he just starts crying more.
Not a single coherent thought is running through Atsumu’s mind, other than negative words telling him to stop crying, that he’s embarrassing himself and Kiyoomi obviously doesn’t want to be here. But the hand stable on his back rubbing circles and the fingers calmly running through his hair speak otherwise, and Atsumu can’t allow himself to step away.
After what seems like hours of them sitting there in the bathroom, the sniffles eventually start to quiet and the grasp on the back of Kiyoomi’s sweater begins to soften. Kiyoomi doesn’t adjust himself in fear he’ll do something wrong, so he just waits for Atsumu to be ready to move at all.
When he does, his eyes are incredibly puffy and his cheeks are completely swollen. He brings his bandaged arms up to his face and wipes away the extra tears and looks down towards the ground instead of at Kiyoomi, seemingly ashamed.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.
“Please don’t be sorry.” Kiyoomi says back, bringing him in for a hug again, and Atsumu wraps his arms around his back.
“I feel so guilty.” He confesses. “I shouldn’t have texted ya. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, I promise.” Kiyoomi says, pulling away and making eye contact with Atsumu. “I’m glad you texted me, if you ever feel this way it’s better to have someone with you. I don’t want you feeling like that alone, okay? You can call me. I’ll be here if you need me. Whenever you want.”
“I’m sorry.” Atsumu says, starting to cry again.
Kiyoomi brings his hand up to cup Atsumu’s face and wipes the falling tears away. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”
Atsumu chews at his bottom lip and lifts his hand to hold the back of Kiyoomi’s that’s still placed on the side of his face. After a minute of silence Atsumu speaks up and asks, “Is this okay?” eyeing towards the hand.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” Kiyoomi says, pressing his forehead against Atsumu’s.
They stay like that for a while, just taking in each other’s presence. Atsumu finds it insanely comforting, and for a split second he wonders if Kiyoomi could potentially like him too. Maybe.
“Kiyoomi?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you said you care about me,” he sucks in a breath, “but is there another reason why you’re here?” Atsumu uses all his strength to ask.
Kiyoomi stills against him, and keeps quiet, wondering if he should answer or not while Atsumu waits.
“I like you.” Kiyoomi blurts out, taking Atsumu by surprise and causing the blood to rush up to both of their faces - making Atsumu even more red than he already was.
“Really?” Atsumu questions warily while Kiyoomi looks down at Atsumu’s bandaged hands curled up in his own lap.
“Yeah. It’s stupid.” He says, looking away embarrassed.
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I may or may not like you too.” Atsumu says, slightly smiling which makes Kiyoomi snap his head back up in shock.
“May or may not?”
“Okay, then I may like you.” Atsumu huffs out annoyingly smiling.
Kiyoomi breaks out a small smile back and laughs, facing his head down.
“What’s so funny? I should be the one laughing!” Atsumu says softly. “You’re not just messing with me because my mind is all scrambled right now, right?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Kiyoomi says reassuringly, taking Atsumu’s hands in his.
“Well then, if you’re being serious then this is usually the part where both of us are supposed kiss.” Atsumu suggests, smirking at him.
“I’m not kissing you. Not right now.”
“Whaaat? Why not?” He cocks his head to the side questioningly.
“You were the one that said you’re not in your right mind right now.” Kiyoomi says, picking up his hand and brushing a piece of Atsumu’s hair before his ear. “We can talk about all of this tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He responds with a quiet smile.
“Do you mind if I stay? No offense but… I don’t really want to leave you alone right now.” Kiyoomi asks hesitantly.
“I’m surprised you’re asking to stay. You must really like me, yeah?” He asks laughing and Kiyoomi just rolls his eyes. “I’d feel a lot better if you were here anyways.”
“Good.” Kiyoomi says, extending his hand and helping Atsumu hop off the counter.
They make their way to Atsumu’s room and the boy climbs into bed while Kiyoomi positions his desk chair to face him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Atsumu questions.
“Sitting on the chair?”
“Were you not going to sleep?” He asks quickly, Kiyoomi just looks at him funny. The boy groans and undoes the covers on the other side of the bed. “Get in. C’mon.”
Kiyoomi eyes him questioningly, but eventually gets up off the chair and makes his way over to the bed, climbing in next to Atsumu.
“See? Better.” he pauses, “Is this also okay?”
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
“Okay, good.” Atsumu says, turning over and turning the lamp off and leaving them in the complete midnight darkness.
“Goodnight Atsumu. We’ll talk tomorrow” Kiyoomi whispers, and Atsumu’s heart skips with the sound of him using his real name like this.
“Goodnight Omi.” He whispers back, smiling.