mays .🪼

so, if you find a rather jolly and humming atsumu sipping his coffee at 8:30 am in the morning, just know that he’s feeling really accomplished and expecting your figure to be the only thing he’s holding from the moment you close your eyes, and up for when you open them once again.

“mornin’, baby. whats up with the upset brows?

oh, but don’t look at how the attic just so happened to have its entrance slightly ajar. unfortunately, doing a clean job wasn’t really in atsumu’s blood that day.

____

“atsumu, have you seen the bear you got me for our anniversary? i’m worried… i cant seem to find it. it’s just.. gone?”

“eh? that big thing? how would it even get lost in the first place?”

“i know.. it’s so weird..”

“maybe yer’ just not looking hard enough, sweet.”

“but how—?……also, why’s the attic open?”

“ya look beautiful, by the way.”

“wh—?”

“just woke up too. so gorgeous. wouldn’t expect less from ya. c’mon, let’s go on a walk.”

“but atsumu, the att—

“i think the tulips you planted finally bloomed. let’s check, hm?”

“i just planted them three days ago—?? hey! atsumu! ats—!!”

well. taking an unexpected walk around the neighbourhood on an empty stomach definitely didn’t make things any better that morning.

——

though, if it alleviates anything within you, perhaps do take note at the horror on atsumu’s face upon the sight of your child dusting off that same white teddy bear she had “found while treasure hunting in the attic!” six years later.

as you make a snide comment (totally not directed at your awfully tense husband), and lead your daughter to washing the now roughed up plush, atsumu couldn’t help but feel as if that bear had been plotting against him, making sure to come back with even more malice for their inevitable reunion. (what a poetic mind, atsumu.)

and so, with no you to hold and to feel, and with no daughter to keep close by,

the bed surely felt colder that night.

stupid bear.

———————————————————————————

shameless plug but if u want more atsumu then.. heheh —> loser tsumu ;3

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

———

It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.

"(L/n) (Y/n)!"

Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.

"You know my name."

"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.

"Miya Osamu isn't it?"

"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"

"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.

"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."

"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.

"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."

"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."

"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.

"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"

"Call me Atsumu!"

"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.

———

Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.

Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.

"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"

This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.

"Yes I am, and she is amazing."

"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.

"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."

This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.

From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.

The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.

You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.

"Hey you okay?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.

"Ya... ya looked upset."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.

"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.

“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“

“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”

A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.

———

Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…

"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"

"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."

"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.

"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."

"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"It's not like th—"

"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.

"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…

"Would we though?"

"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.

———

When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.

Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"

"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.

"They're not for her!"

"Oh... Suna...?"

Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.

"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.

You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.

“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.

Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).

Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.

"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.

"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"

"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."

"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.

"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."

"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."

"No, he made it for you."

A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.

"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.

"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."

"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.

"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"

"To get close to you? I don't know."

"No! To get close to you!"

Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.

Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.

"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"

“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?

“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.

"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.

"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."

"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.

"I know! But—"

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.

"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"

Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.

"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.

"Oh, right."

"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."

"Eh?"

"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.

"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"

Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.

"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"

"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.

"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.

"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”

"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”

“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”

"Yeah, I’d like that."

—

That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.

“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."

"Noticing ya?"

"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."

"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."

<——————————<<<<

“Your hair looks stupid.” Atsumu says, and even he knows that's not the best comeback he ever came up with, especially by the curl on his brother's lips — something he only ever did whenever he knew Atsumu was losing.

You notice Atsumu seemingly grow more and more irritated the longer the silence lingers in the conversation and realize that you're starting to get used to them already because something snaps at you: if you don't interfere now, this could take forever to end. So, before Atsumu can think of anything better to say, you decide to speak up.

“What are we doing here again?” You look between both of them until Atsumu stops, closer to your side and looking at his brother.

“'Samu wants to know our ideas first instead of just rolling with it.” He answers nonchalantly, pretending to hate the idea.

Atsumu knew Osamu would follow him on court with whatever he felt like doing — hell, maybe even off court. However, he also noticed how his twin started acting uncharacteristically cautious about this specific subject and decided to not push him too much. He gets it, kinda off.

At the end of the day, Atsumu knew his own limits, but he had memorized his brother's.

“I think we can talk about our approaches first?” You say, looking at Osamu until he nodded. Turning to Atsumu on your side, you ask, “Any ideas?”

Atsumu doesn't take too long to answer. “Honestly, Suna is a really direct person, isn't he?”

“I don't like where this is going…” You look back at Osamu, who decides to speak up as well.

“If you're about to suggest looking into his eyes and confessing, I'm walking away.”

“Can you both just listen to me for a damn second?” Atsumu groans, furrowed eyebrows looking at his brother, running his hand through his hair and everything. “I know you don't have the guts to do that. What I'm sayin' is that you should just try something bolder to see how he reacts.” He says, more calmly now.

“Like?” Osamu asks, and you're surprised he even considers that option judging by his confused expression now.

“I haven't thought that far ahead, but maybe just touchin' more?” His voice wavers for a split second before he realizes and pulls a more confident tone to back up this point, “slowly gettin' closer, ya know? You don’t do that with just anyone.”

Atsumu feels a small sense of victory when Osamu doesn’t immediately shake his head, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s fully on board yet. He would like to know if he was, though, if you hadn't spoken first.

"Exactly, and Suna isn’t used to that," you counter quickly, pausing for Osamu’s reaction before turning your attention directly to Atsumu. "What we need to figure out first is whether Suna likes him, not scaring him away.”

Atsumu doesn't want to hear Osamu agreeing to that, so he cuts him off. “That's what I'm saying. It's not like he's going in for a kiss, alright?” Atsumu laughs, just a bit sarcastically before looking back at your eyes. “Just making small first moves. It's not that hard, really, and if Suna likes him, he won't push ‘im away.”

Osamu doesn't even try talking this time. Seeing your expression and clenched fists, he understands that you already have your answer prepared.

“What if Suna doesn’t like it? Not everyone enjoys being the center of attention like you, Miya.” You answer, snappy and probably a bit too irritated to convincingly make a point, clearly frustrated at that idea.

“Please, everybody loves being the center of at least one person's attention.” Atsumu chuckles, crossing his arms to look down on you. “You clearly didn't have anyone thinking that about you to understand how it feels.”

“What did you just say?” You're aware your voice sounds higher when you take a step back to look up and down at the boy in front of you. It's ridiculous to try to convince him about any of your past experiences, but this isn't about you or him, and he needs to know that. “We are talking about Suna here, remember? Besides, everything you just said makes no sense.”

“So you're saying giving someone more attention won't change anything.” When he replies, you notice a smirk that wasn’t there before.

“Like you're suggesting? No, it won't.” You cross your arms again, watching him smile wider before deciding to speak up again, “glad your brain finally caught up to-”

Osamu senses something is amiss the moment Atsumu takes a step closer to you, but he chooses not to intervene. He usually doesn’t mind letting his brother dig his own grave.

When Atsumu gives the next one, you stop talking immediately and take two steps backwards. There are words stuck on your throat, something about this plan not working when suddenly you hit your back on the wall next to the window Osamu is sitting on. Your face starts burning and you're not sure if it's just because you're getting angrier each second that goes by or if it's because Atsumu rested his hand right beside your head, leaning dangerously close with a stupid smile all over his face.

“Seems like I won, doesn't it?” He says, almost like a whisper, and that gives you all the strength you need to place both hands on his shoulders, pushing him away from you.

Because you're not losing this argument, especially not losing to Miya Atsumu and that stupid smile of his.

Osamu realized he should have said something the second his brother started laughing just a bit louder, only to be stopped when he accidentally tripped over his feet — falling backwards and landing over a pile of papers that weren't there before. Atsumu looks up to find more papers still falling and the principal burning him with her eyes. He tries to stand up but ends up stepping on a bunch of papers he's pretty sure shouldn't have any foot marks in it.

For a second he realizes two things. First, he's grateful the principal didn't storm out as soon as he stood up on his feet. Second, he's going to kill Osamu for just turning his back and pretending he didn't see what happened.

“I'm so sorry, ma’am.” You're the one kneeling down on the floor first to gather all the papers and Atsumu follows you. “We really didn't mean to.” You say louder, and then whisper back to Atsumu. “Look what you did.”

“What I did? You're the one that pushed me!” His whisper isn’t as quiet.

You rip a bunch of papers from his hand, gritting your teeth.

“If you haven't tried anything stupid I wouldn't have-”

“Stop it,” the principal said, intervening as you both scrambled to gather the scattered papers and continued to argue, nearly tearing them from each other’s hands. “You’re from different classes, correct?”

You both stood up a nod. Atsumu, unusually quieter, replied “yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I think both wouldn't mind staying after class to clean up, correct? You can even help each other.” She smiles, getting the papers from your hands before adding. “Or we can discuss a better option with your parents.”

“No, ma’am.” Atsumu answers, and you would push his shoulders again if you weren't being scolded for that exact same reason.

“I don’t want to see you two fighting in the hallways again, understood?” she says firmly, starting to walk away. As she passes by Osamu, she adds, “If you can’t control yourselves, take it to the gymnasium. The coach is used to dealing with the twins, anyway.”

Osamu quickly covers his mouth to stifle a laugh, just in case the principal decides to return and offer him cleaning duties as well. Once the tension eases, he glances back at his phone and smiles at both of you, a hint of amusement still in his eyes.

“You will have enough time to discuss your approach while cleaning our classrooms so we will talk again tomorrow.” He chuckles and then starts walking back to your classroom.

You realize the corridor starts to get crowded and groans one more time, turning to Atsumu and poking his chest. “My class first, and don't ever try that again.” You speak firmly before turning your back to him and following Osamu to class.

Atsumu mimics your expression and words to himself, in a way more exaggerated tone, before scoffing and walking back to his class.

The day was going to be longer than he expected.

You've been in your classroom, alone, for about half an hour when you hear Atsumu's voice again. The door is open abruptly and he enters, “the coach didn't let me go that easy,” he explains, instead of apologizing. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Clearly, I'm not waiting.” You finally look up at him, finishing the last desk before trying to clean the board one last time. “I'm already finished here.”

Atsumu looks around and he isn't really sure it's believable you organized everything by yourself that quickly. He never was that efficient anyway, always finding something way better to do when he was asked to organize something. Unless it's related to volleyball. practicing strategies, organizing team activities, or cleaning the gym after a rare loss — which, in his opinion, is always well-deserved — those chores he can do and do well.

Now he notices you struggling with the board being too high and chuckles as he walks over. “Stop being stubborn,” he says, gently taking hold of your wrists and trying to grab the rag. “Let me help—”

You quickly pull your hand away from him. “Stop giving orders. I started this, so I’ll finish it,” you insist, even though you know you’re just proving his point.

It’s clear that letting Atsumu think he can do whatever he wants, like on the court, isn’t an option after what happened today. He kept you waiting and put both of you in this situation. So, you’re determined to follow through with your plan, even if it seems less sensible now that he’s comfortably seated at one of the desks you’ve cleaned, watching you struggle with a chair to reach the top of the board.

Atsumu is lucky you just don't walk away and let him finish the job by himself.

The two of you remain silent until the task is complete, and you start walking toward his classroom. It’s no surprise that Atsumu breaks the silence as soon as possible; expecting him to stay quiet for just a few more seconds would be nothing short of a miracle.

“So, here we are. Pretty sure you haven’t been here before,” he says with a smile, leaning back against the teacher’s desk and teasingly watching you as you walk through the door.

“As if Class 2 is that much better than 1.” You walk past him, rolling your eyes.

He doesn’t follow you, choosing instead to begin organizing the teacher’s side of the classroom while you tackle the desks once more. Even so, he calls out for you to hear, “still higher, though.”

Truth be told, he never once cared about being in a higher class than his brother, but right now he would just get any opportunity to win over you.

Atsumu slightly glances over, waiting for you to say something back but you don't. He doesn't like the silence all that much, if he's being honest. It's not because he likes to talk to you, but he likes getting reactions from whoever is around him. When you don't answer with a snarky comeback again, he starts feeling something was wrong.

Concern for others' feelings isn’t exactly Atsumu’s strong suit. While he’d make an effort to discuss things with Osamu if he knew he’d really fucked up, but that is where that ends. However, something tells him that maintaining at least a neutral relationship with you is important—at least for Osamu’s sake. As a result, it takes him far longer than he’d anticipated to find the right moment to speak up again.

“Are you really mad at me now?” He tries to be nonchalantly about it — because, really, he doesn't care that much. However, when you respond with an apologetic smile and a shrug, he starts to feel uneasy. 

The situation only worsens when you finally reply, “you kind of fucked up.” before turning back to clean the students' desks.

Now, Atsumu is sure he felt a really bad tug on his heart. That is something he knows he doesn't like, so he takes it as a good enough excuse to do something he hates doing.

“Sorry,” he chuckles after to mask the way the word left his lips and immediately starts mopping the floor around the teacher's desk again — without meeting your surprised gaze at him. “I guess I shouldn't have done that and made you wait right after.” He shrugs and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “The detention fault is still half yours though.”

This time, you laugh while rolling your eyes. “Just don't do that ever again and you'll be fine.”

“Are we talking about my attempt in the hallway or about me being late?”

You scoffed before turning to look at him again. “Guess.”

Atsumu thinks you're talking about both, but he somewhat hopes you're only angry at him for getting late — even if he isn't really sure which one would be harder for him to oblige. He also thinks it’s bad for him if he doesn't give the last word in this discussion, so he chuckles sarcastically before adding. “No promises.”

The final comment is meant to cause you some kind of frustration, but it's somewhat genuine. It also makes you slightly annoyed, but Atsumu probably knows better than to be that stupid and press it again.

Looking back at him, actually working efficiently and now explaining the doodles and scribbles all over his own desk before you clean up, you think he really doesn't look that much stupid. Maybe you would grow more comfortable around him like you did with Osamu, but it might just take a little longer.

ellie.txt: double update because it was too short yesterday. also I feel like it's easy to tell but this was meant to be a whole fic not a series. turns out I don't feel like posting 20k words here so lmao let's get this.