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Atsumu doesn’t know exactly when it started. Perhaps it was during his last year of middle school, or maybe it was even before that. Either way, it follows him. Every day it’s there, lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting to grab him when least expected. There are moments where it feels like he can breathe, where a deep breath isn’t painful. It’s a nice reprieve from the dark clutches that dig into his body. Though, he must never become complacent, never too at ease; for that’s when it strikes it’s lethal blow.
Sometimes it’s like he’s trapped in a hole and dark shadowy figures guard the top, blocking out the sun. He can’t climb out by himself, he needs someone to reach in for him. Even though several people walk past, no one ever offers assistance. Do they not see him? Perhaps they just don’t care.
At times, Atsumu swears he sees in monochrome. He misses the vibrant colors in the world, like yellow. He likes that stupid brightness it brings. Now everything is dull, lackluster, dark. Sometimes his vision blurs to a point that he isn’t sure he’s even seeing anything.
There are moments in Atsumu’s life that he remembers vividly, others seem to be blocked from his memory all together. Sometimes he wishes he could remember, even if it’s just to explain what happened. Closure for himself. Other moments that live on replay in his mind - those he wishes he could lock away forever - live on like an indestructible parasite.
Wind whips his messy blonde locks into further disarray. It’s almost twilight, bringing further chill to the December air. How many times has he come up here? How many times has he seen the ghosts of himself here as well? The cold of the concrete seeps through his socks. Everything’s set. He’s just ready for it all to stop. Even as he sets his shoes down by the railing, he’s not scared. No, he’s calm when he takes off his gold warm-up jacket. Grabbing the railing in front of him, Atsumu takes a deep breath. This is it. Today’s the day.
---
4 Years Ago
Unknown Sender: The only reason they cheer for you is because you get us points. No one actually likes you. Volleyball is the only thing you’re good for.
You: Who is this? Stop texting me!
Unknown Sender: Kita-san is only dating you to help the team. He doesn’t actually like you.
Atsumu flings his phone into the wall where it hits with a thud before clattering to the floor. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten texts like this, nor does he believe it will be the last. He doesn’t ever tell anyone. What could they even do? He has no idea who sends them or if it’s even the same person. And what if what they say is true? He hardly ever gets invited anywhere. No one seems to want to hang out with him outside of volleyball. Is he really that insufferable? Sure, he’s the butt of most of the jokes on the team, but they don’t hate him… Right?
That feeling in his chest is creeping up again. That feeling that makes it harder to breathe. The one where he just wants to lay down and stay there. But Nationals are in just a few days, he can’t be distracted. Especially considering where he is right now.
Kageyama Tobio approaches him, “Bad text?”
He huffs, “Ya could say that.”
Kageyama nods, but doesn’t say anything else. He’s not a bad kid, but he still manages to piss Atsumu off. Or maybe it’s just fear that this genius setter will surpass him soon.
He’s currently at the All-Japan Youth Training Camp, and it’s a nice break. Well, it was until those texts. They just can’t stand to leave him alone for too long. It’s not just texts. There’s notes shoved into his locker that he plays off as confession letters, kids from other sports teams harass him, and the online bullying is nonstop. No one on the volleyball team has ever said anything. Atsumu suspects that they don’t know, and he plans to keep it that way. It will only get worse if any of them get involved.
Atsumu finally decides to retrieve his phone. “So is there somethin’ ya need Tobio-kun?”
“We’re playing a practice match before dinner. We need another setter.”
“Well why didn’tcha say so? C’mon!”
Their match goes well. The only person who hurls insults at him is Sakusa, but that’s to be expected. While the words sting at times, he doesn’t feel the same venom from him as he does from the kids at school. Either way, he still thinks about it later that night when he’s in bed. Is he disgusting? Do other people think that, too?
The next morning, his limbs feel like lead.
Nationals is a shocking defeat. Atsumu takes it hard, but he keeps his smile for his teammates. It isn’t until he’s able to slip away that his chest feels like it’s caving in. Tears stream down his face as he weeps. He let them all down. It’s his fault. If he hadn’t tried that stupid move that he knew was too risky they might have won. His phone buzzes in his pocket. Thinking it might be Osamu wondering where he is, he checks it.
Unknown Sender: Wow. What a loser. Losing to that sad excuse of a team.
Unknown Sender: Watch yourself Miya.
Unknown Sender: Too bad. Looks like Kita-san has no reason to keep you around now.
Unknown Sender: Did you think you looked cool out there? What a joke. Ugly ass piss head.
Unknown Sender: KYS
He keeps reading even though he knows he shouldn’t. He can’t help it. His whole body feels numb and disoriented looking at his phone screen. Even if he tries, Atsumu doesn’t think he could get up from his spot on the floor.
So that’s how Sakusa finds him: sitting on the gross public bathroom floor hunched over in the corner. Atsumu doesn’t even realize someone has entered the bathroom, let alone that the person is looking at him.
“Miya, what the hell are you doing? Get off that disgusting floor,” Sakusa says in a neutral tone.
Popping his head up in surprise, he hastily wipes away any stray tears. Trying to muster an ounce of sarcasm he says, “I’m fine right here, thanks.”
Sakusa looks at him for a long moment before turning around and leaving without another word. It’s like the whole situation is below him, that he can’t even stand to be in the same room. Atsumu doesn’t expect Sakusa to come back, no matter how much a piece of him wishes the other man would.
Maybe the team would be better off without him.
It’s the night after they have returned from Nationals. Atsumu sits on the bathroom tile floor leaning against the bathtub. Osamu is probably already in their room laying in bed. The rest of the house is quiet. Only the running faucet disrupts the silence. No one would be coming to check on him anytime soon.
Atsumu looks at the razor he holds between his thumb and index finger. He could run it up his arms, and then everyone would be rid of him. It’s his fault anyway, he doesn’t deserve any of their kindness. Everything around him seems to blur around the sharp glint of the metal. He lightly presses the blade against his skin. The blue of his veins are easy to see on the bottom side of his pale forearms. How long does it take to bleed out? It’ll probably hurt. He’s never been fond of pain.
Then he feels water on his back where it’s started to flow over the edge. He hastily turns the water off, and sits back down. He looks at the razor again then sets it down.
Even though the volleyball season is over, Atsumu finds himself in the gym practicing his serves. It’s the only thing that distracts him these days, though his passion to practice has diminished greatly. He still forces himself to go, otherwise his desire to stay in bed swallows him.
The gym doors swing open and three guys he vaguely recognizes to be on the soccer team walk in. No one has ever come to bother him in his own domain, he hopes that’s not what this is.
“Miya! I was lookin’ for ya!” The largest man says pleasantly, though something ominous lurks in his eyes.
Atsumu takes a deep breath and plasters on a smile. “Hey there! What can I do for ya?”
The three men continue to approach him like they’re stalking prey. Atsumu feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It’s way after hours. No one is here. This just screams danger, but he holds his ground. Atsumu isn’t a small guy by any means. He’s 6 feet tall and weighs a good 160 pounds, so it’s not often he gets harassed physically. However, these guys are all at least his height and the middle dude is huge. Like bigger than Ushijima huge.
“Well, ya see, I heard a rumor about ya. And I wanted to see if it holds any truth.” The three teens are practically right upon him. He’s still holding the volleyball, like it’s a shield between him and these guys.
Swallowing down his nerves he speaks, “Oh? What kinda rumor didja hear?”
The boys grin widens maliciously as the other two grab him from each side and start dragging him backwards. In his surprise, Atsumu drops the ball and doesn’t fight back at first. When his back is slammed against a wall, the breath is momentarily knocked out of him. The largest teen is now right in front of his face.
With a racing heart, Atsumu struggles to free himself only for the teen to press him against the wall with a large hand. He should have bolted as soon as he felt trouble. What are they going to do now? Beat him to a bloody pulp?
“The fun kind.”
Atsumu’s eyes widen in understanding. No! Fuck this! He struggles harder, but their grip is too strong. “Ya shouldn’t put much stock into rumors.” He tries kicking the bully with his feet.
The teen takes a step back, “Oh? So it’s not true that you jumped from person to person before you started dating Kita-san?” Okay so it’s true he dates a lot, but it’s not like he fucked them! “What about the one where you like big, domineering types? Does Kita-san know how much of a little whore you are?”
What the fuck? Who is spreading this shit about him? And why is he just now hearing it? “Look, man, I don’t know where you’re gettin’ this from, but ya need to check yer sources.” He should really stop talking. It’s like he doesn’t know how to shut up.
“How about I check it from the best source, hm?” He steps back into Atsumu’s personal space and forces his leg between his. “C’mon, babe, aren’t ya gonna get hard?”
“Fuck you!” He grits through his teeth.
A hand grabs his face roughly before a wet mouth covers his own. He tries to turn away, but this grip is tight and painful. The teen pulls back laughing. “Aw, don’t give me that look. Jus’ wanted a lil’ fun. Yer face was priceless. Do ya really think I wanna fuck an ugly bitch like you?” He along with the other two release him. “And do be a good boy and keep quiet. Wouldn’t want Kita-san to find out, right?”
It’s then that he notices one of them is recording on their phone. Atsumu slumps down against the wall sobbing. Their laughter rings throughout the gym even when they’re long gone.
A few days later, Kita-senpai breaks up with him. He says that it’s because he’s going away for college, Atsumu can’t convince himself that that's the real reason.
After that incident, things only get worse. The texts, notes, and online harassment become more frequent. He doesn’t understand. What did he do to these people? He knows he’s worthless. He knows how inadequate he is. He knows Osamu is the better twin. Crying himself to sleep at night becomes part of his routine. Osamu doesn’t say anything about it.
Soon it’s like he has no more tears to give. Atsumu feels hollow inside, like he’s just a walking corpse. Emotion becomes foreign to him, but still he fakes happiness at school. When he’s alone, hours seem to pass as he sits alone, mind lost in some kind of abyss. He’s tired all the time; even the smallest tasks seem to completely zap all his energy. What’s the point of living this way?
He walks to the medicine cabinet and looks at its contents. The bottles of acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a leftover bottle of Vicodin catch his eye. He grabs the three and looks at them. How much would it take to overdose? What if someone found him before he died? But if he downed all of it, it’d be fine, right? He uncaps the acetaminophen and pours out a handful. Is this stupid? There’s so many other people that have it so much worse. He has a good life. His parents don’t beat him, he’s never had to go hungry, his house isn’t dirty…
“What’re ya doin’?” He jumps at Osamu’s voice.
“Headache,” he says as he puts back all the pills except the appropriate amount for said ailment.
Osamu narrows his eyes at him, but ultimately lets it go.
Sometime around halfway through the school year, the picture of that guy kissing him gets passed around along with the rumor that he cheated on Kita-senpai. The picture looks convincing. You can’t see anyone holding him, and the hand on his jaw almost looks tender. When he walks into practice after school, the gym is dead quiet. His team looks at him with disgust and disdain. No one tries to ask him his side of the story or if it’s even true.
When he tries to walk up to Suna, he completely ignores him. Should he have just said something when it happened? Would they have believed him anyway? It hurts. The pressure in his chest presses against his lungs. Osamu looks at him with a blank expression, disappointment clear in his eyes.
“‘Samu, it’s not true!” His brother gives him a hard look and walks away.
Atsumu’s shoulders slump. Even his own twin doesn’t believe him. He may be a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’d never do that to someone, especially Kita-senpai.
It becomes a trend to hear rumors about himself sleeping with random people. Unknown numbers sending him messages calling him a whore, slut, easy, and sending him gross pictures is more common than he’d like to say. People he’s never seen before come up to him at school asking him if he wants to hook up. The first time it happens, he’s completely taken aback. Then one day he decides to start taking up the offers. If it’s a slut they want, then fine.
It’s good in the moment, it takes away the pain. He feels wanted, needed. But almost immediately after it’s over he feels worse than before.
Stepping into the now familiar gym, he takes a deep breath and relaxes for the first time in what feels like years. He’s still the only representative from Inarizaki to go to All-Japan. For that he’s eternally grateful. If things go well this year at Nationals, his chances of being recruited for a pro team are high.
Not everyone has arrived yet, so he takes a seat against the wall to just take a moment for himself. Closing his eyes, he rests his head against the wall. He hears someone he greatly suspects to be Hoshiumi scream Kageyama’s name.
Opening his eyes reveals this to be correct. He smiles genuinely seeing the white haired teen jump around the stoic setter. Fluorescent yellow in his peripheral alerts him of Sakusa’s presence. The masked teen is looking at him, not even bothering to turn when he’s caught. His eyebrows are furrowed like he’s deep in thought. Disliking the feeling of being under a microscope, he goes to join the rowdy group.
At dinner one night, he’s returning from using the restroom to see Sakusa looking at his phone. Panic rushes through him, and he jogs over to scoop it up. He shouldn’t have left it on the table, but it was only Kageyama and himself before! Why is Sakusa being nosey all of a sudden? He turns his back to Sakusa and lights up the screen. His heart plummets when he sees what the text preview says.
“Miya?” Sakusa’s deep voice asks.
Atsumu can’t turn around. He can’t face him. This is humiliating. So he does what he’s good at; he runs away.
This year they beat Karasuno in the third round at Nationals. They place second Nationally, only losing to Itachiyama in the final round. They were so close! He could have played better. He should have been better. He messed up that serve, it was a stupid mistake.
“Good game, Miya,” Sakusa says from the other side of the net. “Your team played well.”
Atsumu gives him a teary, but real smile. “Thanks, Sakusa.” The curly haired man seems surprised he wasn’t called one of his nicknames as he just stares at the setter. Then he nods and walks back to his celebrating team.
He’s in the bathroom washing his hands when someone else enters. It’s Ojirou Aran, he didn’t know his former teammate was here. Feeling actually happy to see him, Atsumu turns to greet him. “Aran! How’ve ya been?”
However, Ojirou seems to not share the sentiment, as he grabs Atsumu by his jersey and pushes him against the wall. Seems to be his thing now. “Is it true?” He says in a loud voice that borders yelling.
“What are ya talkin’ about?!”
“Did you seriously cheat on Kita-senpai?! That’s why he was so upset after he broke up with you?”
Atsumu’s eyes widen. “Aran, no of course not! I’d never-” He’s cut off as Aran harshly shakes him.
“Don’t you dare lie to me! I want to hear the truth!” He’s full on yelling now.
“I am tellin’ ya the truth!”
“If you’re going to fight, take it outside,” Sakusa’s voice suddenly breaks in. He never even saw the man come in.
Aran lets him go with a hard glare and leaves the restroom.
“Miya, did something happen? Wasn’t that one of your old teammates?”
“Nothin’ for ya to worry ‘bout, Omi-kun!” Sakusa searches his face for something, but seems unsatisfied. After an awkward silence, Atsumu escapes out the door.
Now that volleyball is over, everyone at school just ignores him. It’s fine. It’s at least better this way. Even if he hides in the gym storage room during lunch, it’s better than hearing all the whispers and seeing the stares. Graduation is so close. He just has to hold out a little longer. There’s something to look forward to for once.
“‘Tsumu, we need to talk.” Osamu interrupts his pastime of staring at the ceiling while laying on his bed. Turning his head, he raises an eyebrow to his twin encouraging him to continue. “Did ya cheat on Kita-senpai?”
Atsumu jolts into a sitting position to face his twin fully. He didn’t expect him to ever bring it up. It’s been months! “No, I didn’t cheat on him. That guy forced me into that kiss and then blackmailed me. I’d never cheat on someone.”
Osamu nods, “If ya say ya didn’t I believe ya. I’m sorry I never actually asked before.”
Osamu starts joining him in the storage room. Atsumu isn’t sure how he knew that’s where he’s been hiding out, but he’s happy all the same. He almost cries when after a week Suna and Ginjima join them, too.
He gets an offer from the MSBY Black Jackals as starting setter. Things are looking up.
---
Two months ago
Atsumu lays in bed with a familiar ache in his body. It’s one of those days. Again. For the third day in a row. All of his limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. If he just stays here, no one will miss him at practice. They’ll be fine without him. He can’t stand the thought of getting up, so he doesn’t.
Practice must be over, as someone is currently banging on his front door. His desire to get up and answer it is currently zero. They can knock away.
“Miya!” Is that Sakusa? “Answer this goddamn door! I can hear your stupid ringtone, so I know you’re in there!” Oh. He must have left it on the kitchen counter, because he can’t hear it. Sakusa must be pretty loud. In fact, it’s surprising he’s even checking on him. They could call each other friends now, but it’s still not like him to go out of his way to do something for Atsumu. He wants to smile at the gesture. “I will call your brother!”
Pulling the brother card already. He must be actually worried. With tremendous effort, he pulls himself from the comfort of his bed and trudges to the door. When he cracks the door open, he can’t find the energy to fake any emotions.
“What, Omi-kun?”
The spiker pauses as he takes in Atsumu’s current state. He knows he’s not winning any beauty awards at the moment. His hair is oily and unkempt and his face is probably puffy.
“What’s going on? You look like shit.”
“Nothin’. Thanks for the concern. Now bye.” He tries to shut the door, but Sakusa sticks his foot in the way.
“You haven’t been to practice in three days without any notice. Coach is livid.”
Atsumu shrugs and easily makes up an excuse. “I’m sick.”
Sakusa rears back but then narrows his eyes. “No you’re not. This isn’t how you act when you’re sick.”
“Then how do I act?”
“Like a damn baby. You’re extremely vocal with your whining.”
He ignores him and ends the conversation. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Atsumu says and takes his chance to shut the door in Sakusa’s face.
He leans against the door to rest, his body feels so heavy. What he really wants is comfort, but Sakusa isn’t the touchy feely type. Would he listen if Atsumu said something? But what if he tells someone. Will they think he’s crazy? Stupid?
He hears a deep sigh from the other side of the door and footsteps walking away.
He’s at Onigiri Miya with a few team members. Bokuto basically dragged him here. He has no doubt the man would have actually carried him if he refused again. Of course, it had to be his brother’s restaurant. He can feel Osamu’s eyes boring into the side of his head. It might be because he didn’t order anything besides water. But he thinks someone has told him about his behavior over the last month. His bet is Sakusa, the man hasn’t been exactly subtle with watching him.
“Tsum-Tsum, aren’t you going to order?” Bokuto sits across from him with a tilted head.
“No, I’m not hungry.”
The owl haired man frowns, “You look thinner than I remember. You’re not like starving yourself or something are you?” His expression is filled with so much genuine worry, it’s hard to look him in the eye.
“I’m just not hungry.” And it’s true. He’s not intentionally starving himself. He just kind of forgets to eat, or the smell of food makes him nauseous. Having no appetite is also a contributing factor. However, he didn’t realize it’s actually noticeable.
Osamu brings over the orders for them. Atsumu isn’t shocked when a plate is set in front of him. Looking up, his brother is fitting him with a stern expression that says ‘you’d better eat this.’
He pokes at the onigiri, but doesn’t pick it up. He looks up to see why everyone is so silent to find them all watching him. “What?”
“You shouldn’t play with your food, Miya,” Sakusa says from the chair to his right.
Atsumu knows that’s not why they’re looking at him, nor is it what Sakusa really wants to say. His hand retreats to his lap anyway.
As they wait for their train, everyone is quiet, even Bokuto and Hinata. Watching another train pull into the station, Atsumu begins to think. He could easily walk in front of a train. That seems pretty fast, so he wouldn’t feel much. But it’d make a mess. And a lot of people would probably see. He doesn’t want to freak out a bunch of people. But then again, he’d be dead, so does it really matter?
How many people would even miss him? His mom and dad, Osamu… Maybe Suna. Hinata? Bokuto? Those two care about everyone, though. Would Sakusa? Thinking about the curly haired man hurts. He’s so perfect: successful, smart, handsome, so out of reach… Atsumu could never compare. Never be good enough. The team can find another setter; he’s not even the best. He’ll just let them down.
The thoughts swirl in his head and feel like they’re crashing into every part of his body. His body aches with phantom pains. He could make it all go away. It’d be so easy to just-
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when someone grabs his arm. Blinking a few times, Atsumu realizes that he has moved towards the edge and is about to cross the yellow line. Sakusa is holding onto his left bicep with unnecessary force, like he’s afraid to let go. Atsumu can’t read his expression.
“Careful there, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto walks up on his other side and squeezes his shoulder.
“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention,” he says lamely.
No one says anything more on the subject. Sakusa looks like he wants to, but in the end he keeps silent. Though his grip never falters.
---
Present
“Miya!” Kiyoomi bangs on Miya Atsumu’s door for the nth time in the last two months. He knows that asshole is in there. That damn ringtone of his is clearly audible. Something is off with the setter, more off than in the past, and Kiyoomi has had enough. He’s finally going to confront him about it. It’s been a long time coming. Atsumu’s behavior over the last couple months has been...alarming.
“I’ve already called your brother! I wasn’t joking!” Usually when he threatens to call Osamu, it gets the other Miya to open the door. However, this time... Nothing. He could just be asleep, but it’s not likely.
“Sakusa.” He turns to see Osamu with his brother’s apartment key. Kiyoomi steps aside to let the other man unlock the door.
When they enter the apartment, there’s no sign of life. Atsumu’s cell phone sits on the counter, but there’s no tall blonde setter. The two men look at each other with looks of concern before heading to the bedroom.
There’s something on the bed, but it’s not Atsumu. Osamu rushes over to what turns out to be a letter. Ripping it open, he unfolds the paper inside with shaking hands. The man suddenly collapses and starts crying, still clutching the letter.
What the hell? Kiyoomi takes the letter from Osamu’s hands to read it himself.
To the Few I’ll Miss, I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I tried to fight
it for as long as could, but in the end I lost. Funny how I used to
say I always see things through to the end. I’ve always known
that I’m a waste of space, but still I tried to find my place. Now
I see no reason to stay here and continue to make a fool of
myself. Find solace that in a year you’ll forget that I’m gone.
‘Samu, know that this isn’t your fault. If anything, I hope this
makes you stronger. That you can achieve all your goals.
You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry that this will cause you
pain. I love you. Tell Mom and Dad I love them, too.
Kiyoomi, I don’t know if you’ll read this, but if you do I’m
sorry that I had to tell you like this. I wanted to so badly ask
for your help. I felt like maybe you saw, but I’m a coward.
That’s nothing new, though. I know I never said, but
your presence made my heart feel a little lighter. Just know
that I cherished every moment we spent together.
Now it’s time to go, because my presence here is no longer
needed. I’m going to fly high in the sky, be free from this
pain I can no longer keep inside. Right now I’m watching
over you. I’ll protect you like no one did for me. You’ll be
okay, just hold on tight.
Love, Atsumu
Is this? His eyes widen in fear. He looks around the room like he’ll see the man. Where is he?! He scans the notes again for a clue. Taking a chance, Kiyoomi darts out of the room and up the stairs all the way to the roof, heart thundering in his chest. Please don’t let him be too late.
Bursting out onto the rooftop he sees Atsumu climbing over the railing. He’s not too late!
“Atsumu!” He yells running towards the man. “Stop! Please!”
Atsumu glances at him over his shoulder and flashes him a sad smile. No, no, no!
His long legs carry him to the railing as Atsumu lets go.
Kiyoomi reaches out a hand.