His day started late, but not out of his own fault! He swore it. It was just because his alarm clock didn’t go off. At least that’s what he told Coach Foster when he walked into practice late with a Starbucks frappuccino. But hey, at least he got one for everyone right? The team nutritionist yelled at him later for it because sugar wasn’t on the regiment, especially with the V-League season so soon. Hinata gladly slurped down the drink though, which consequently sent him into a sugar rush later. And once that happened, their coach chewed out Atsumu for the ginger’s erratic playing. It seemed like the scolding was neverending, but he shook it off as practice continued. He thought that the rest of the day was going to go on without any more hitches, up until he got a call from his brother. 

“She’s here right now with a kid. He’s four years old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like ya is a coincidence.”

The air stilled, and despite the clamor and ruckus of the gym around him, all Atsumu heard was the ringing in his ears and the silence on Osamu’s end. A kid?

There was no way. Osamu was just messing with him, right? It was just a prank, Suna or one of their friends probably put him up to it. There’s no way that… that he actually… He thought of you, something his mind hadn’t crossed paths with in awhile. You were just a girl who left him high and dry five years ago… without a word. He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t convinced, but something lurching in his stomach told him otherwise.

The denial didn’t stop Atsumu from abruptly running out of practice. He would deal with what the coaches had to say later.

FIVE YEARS AGO — INARIZAKI HIGH SCHOOL

“What’s up with ya?” Atsumu questioned, slumping down on the seat infront of your desk as he faced yours. “Yer acting funny, ya sick or something?”

Atsumu couldn’t care less about the fact he was bothering you in the middle of class, all he could think about is how weird you’ve been acting with him. He thought things were going good with you over the past few weeks, maybe a little too good considering you both… He shook it off. You’ve been acting odd all week, suddenly barely sparing him a glance. Despite the fact you both weren’t dating, he had to admit it was bugging him more than it should’ve.

“What makes you say that?” You responded, almost defensively. You didn’t look up from your math worksheet, and to anyone else, it would just look like you were focused on your work, but Atsumu knew you were distracted, you hadn’t moved from the same problem for over ten minutes. 

“Well, ya barely have been talking to me this week first of all,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And not to mention one of your friends told me you went home early yesterday because of food poisoning.” He didn’t mean to reveal that he had been asking around about you, but you didn’t seem to linger on it.

You fiddled with the pencil on your desk, clearly avoiding his eyes. “Why does it matter to you? It’s none of your business, Miya.”

Miya? Harsh.

“And here I thought ya liked me!” Atsumu replied, melodramatically clutching his chest as if he were wounded, albeit, his ego was admittedly a little bruised. “Of course what my girl does matters to me.”

You couldn’t help yourself from cracking a smile, and Atsumu considered it a victory. 

“We’re not even dating, we met a couple weeks ago,” you replied, shaking your head. 

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Though, you were right, you had never made anything official. It was all just harmless fun, right? 

“That didn’t seem to matter when we–”

“Be quiet!” you hissed in embarrassment. Atsumu smirked when he noticed how flustered you got. When you realized Atsumu wasn’t going to let up, you gave him another sigh. 

“I think I’m just not feeling well, probably a stomach bug or something.”

“Blegh!” Atsumu replied, sticking out his tongue. “Well don’t give it to me!”

You bore a small grin at him. Atsumu smiled back, happy that he was at least able to make you feel a little better that day.

He didn’t think that would be the last time he ever saw you.

He was going to walk you home that day and he even considered finally formally asking you out. Granted, he probably should have done that before the… bathroom incident, but he digressed. He went to your classroom later only to find your desk empty. Your classmates already said you left and he shrugged it off. He would just wait until the next day.

Then you were absent the next day, and the day after.

 It wasn’t until a whole week had passed where he felt himself starting to get worried.

You weren’t answering his texts, and after awhile, they didn’t even deliver anymore. He thought things were going well, at least to him they were… Whatever, he wasn’t going to let it get to him. If you didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so be it, it wasn’t his problem. People walked out on him all the time. He repeated it like a mantra, whatever, whatever, whatever.

But it doesn’t stop him from thinking.

As the days progressed, he felt himself plunging deeper into his doubtful thoughts.  You weren’t avoiding him on purpose were you? He didn’t realize how much it was getting to him until he missed practically every set during practice because he was too busy thinking of your smile at him instead of where Osamu’s hand was. He was tired of it, he finally decided he wasn’t going to wait for you to show up. He would get the answers himself.

Afterschool, he followed the trek to your house and stirred silently. Why was he even bothered this much about some girl he barely knew? You weren’t the first girl he was with, and he didn’t plan for you to be the last. So why was it bothering him so much? He wasn’t sure why, but it crept up his spine like a chill. 

Miya Atsumu isn’t someone you can leave, he’s always made sure of it. He’s never the one left behind. He doesn’t want to be. 

He stood on your doorstep, deliberating with himself if it was even worth it. But he didn’t come all this way for nothing. Even if you told him to get lost, atleast it would put an end to his endless lamenting. It would be better than having you plague him like a damn fever. He knocked.

He doesn’t expect your mother to answer.

“What do ya mean she moved?” Atsumu asked in disbelief.

“She’s gone to live with her grandmother in Kagawa,” your mother stated firmly. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing her anytime soon.”

Before Atsumu could pry for any other details, your mother spoke again.

“Don’t ever come back to this house.”

Then the door was slammed in his face.

PRESENT DAY

Despite his best attempts at staying in denial, he realized that all the signs were there. You were getting sick, avoiding him, your sudden disappearance. He should have known something was wrong when your mother forbade him from coming back without a reason. His mind was a flurry as he rushed through the streets of Osaka. The little voice in the back of his head that was saying it was impossible was getting flooded out, it was entirely too possible. 

In his rush inside Onigiri Miya, he was met with a body crashing into him. He looked down to see a horrified face infront of him, it’s yours. And in your arms, an unassuming boy that looked indisputably like him. A moment passed, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis. The panic seemed to be flooding out of your body and into the room. His mouth felt dry and whatever was spinning through his mind was suddenly a standstill. His gaze followed back to the boy, and his heart lurched.

There was no doubt about it, he had a son.

Even if you hadn’t told him, Atsumu could instinctively already tell, something in his gut just knew. He shared his smile, his brown eyes, and even his naturally dark hair that swept in the same way Atsumu’s did when he was that age. There was a piece of him out there, and he didn’t know all these years.

He barely choked out, “could we talk?”

While you both spoke at the table together, and as he gazed at Haru playing with Osamu and your friend not far away, he found himself wondering so many questions. What had Haru looked like when he was a baby? What was he like? Was he more energetic and lively like him? Or more quiet and reserved like his brother was? Was anyone there to help you through the pregnancy? What were his first words? Did he ever ask about him once he was old enough to understand what a father was?

“Atsumu, you realize what you’re asking right? You’re agreeing to be a father, which you just found out right now of all things. It’s a commitment, no take backsies.”

He knew he should’ve weighed the circumstances more, you were right after all, it was a commitment, a life-long one. Not to mention he barely found out an hour ago. Did he even know how to be a father? Infact, Atsumu hadn’t even considered kids in his life yet. He thought he had a long time before he thought he ever had to make that decision.

He thought about Haru, and how for years, he didn’t grow up with a father. His jaw hardened. Four years was too long for him to be absent. He couldn’t just… walk out. When he looked at Haru, he couldn’t possibly think of going on with living his life while knowing his son was out there. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

After your talk and once the situation was settled, atleast as much as it could be, Atsumu had offered to walk you home for the night. You decided to opt out of the company party you were attending for obvious reasons, and Naomi made sure to pass the news on to your boss about a “family emergency”.

 Now there he was, walking down the streets with his ex highschool fling, and his child. Whoever said life worked in unexpected ways, he wasn’t quite imagining this.

You both walked in silence, with Haru in your arms as he slept soundly. Atsumu wasn’t sure what to say, or if he even wanted to break the silence, so he kept quiet. Throughout the walk, he found himself stealing glances at you, and it felt as if he were meeting you all over again. You obviously weren’t the same girl he knew all those years ago. You held yourself up with a maturity he felt like he couldn’t match. Unlike him, sometimes he still felt like the clumsy kid he was in highschool. Maturity was something he always seemed to lack. His friends and brother always made sure to remind him of that whenever he behaved so. 

He looked down at Haru, still fast asleep. He imagined it was well past his bedtime now. You stifled a yawn as you carried the small boy, the tiredness seemed to be contagious. He saw your shoulders beginning to sag, and Atsumu realized you had been carrying him for the better portion of the walk.

“Here, let me take him,” he offered. “You’re tired.”

You looked up at him, with a raised eyebrow. “Have you held a kid before?”

He felt himself pause. Had he held a kid before? There were a few times at family reunions where he held the children of distant family members but that had all been for mere seconds before another family member scooped them up. He remembered how his mom was able to hold him and his brother at once for hours on end, how hard could it be?

“No, but I want to try seeing as I have one now.”

You laughed and extended Haru out to Atsumu, who gently took the boy as if he were made of porcelain. Haru shifted in his sleep, but comfortably adjusted into the setter’s arms.

He heard your laugh beside him and he immediately stiffened up. Had he done something wrong?

“He’s not a volleyball,” you chuckled, “hold him up from here.” You went to adjust Atsumu’s position and pushed up his arm so Haru’s weight could rest on it. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, apparently it was harder than he thought.

“Good,” you replied, patting his arm, and he had to stop himself from blushing when he felt your fingers brushing his arm. “Now just keep him there.”

Atsumu nodded as you continued your walk. It’s then that the thought hit him—when he was finally holding Haru in his arms—that he's his. 

His arms instinctively held Haru tighter. No, he couldn’t be doubtful now. There was too much on the line and too much time lost. Unlike the past four years, he swore that he would be there from now on, no matter what.

You both rounded the corner before you got to your apartment complex, a smaller building in the quieter part of the city. You both had lived here all this time, and he didn’t know. Had he ever walked down this street unknowingly?

“This is us,” you stated, gesturing to the building. He felt himself trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out. He just knew he didn’t want the night to end, there was still so much he had to know.

“Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pictures of Haru I could show you.” You asked, and it was like you read his mind.

“I would like that.”

He followed you inside and into the elevator where you led him to your apartment. You flicked on the lights and Atsumu glanced around. He looked around and saw Haru’s toys laying about, pictures of the two of you framed around the home, he even spotted Haru’s homework still strewn out on the coffee table. You both crept inside, careful to be quiet as to not wake Haru. You led him down a hallway and opened a door to what he presumed was Haru’s room, and ushered him inside. 

Atsumu carried the boy inside his room, and looked around. He saw his drawings framed along the walls, toys, stuffed animals, and noticed a volleyball near his toy trunk. He made a mental note to ask Haru about that later. He padded over to the bed, and set him down so he was laying. You came up beside him, and tucked the covers over him before kissing his forehead. 

He realized this was the first time he was putting his son to sleep. Was this what having a family was like?

You both quietly exited the room, making sure to close Haru’s door so he wasn’t disturbed by you both outside.

“I can make us some tea,” you said, as he nodded. He didn’t even really like tea, he was just glad he could stay. He followed you to the kitchen, where he took a seat at the kitchen island while you put the kettle on the stove.

“Is it just ya two here?” He asked, looking around. You had some pictures framed up, as well as some photographs hung on the fridge which he could see. But from what he could tell, it was only you, Haru, and sometimes Naomi in the photos.

“Yup,” you responded, pulling out two mugs from the cabinet above you. “Since Haru was born, really.”

Atsumu felt his heart in his stomach. “Even when ya were pregnant?”

Atsumu saw you still, and he hoped he didn’t open an old wound. He scolded himself for not being more sensitive, and letting his own curiosity get the better of him. 

“When I told my parents, they kicked me out,” you stated bluntly, putting the tea bags in the cups. “They sent me to live with my grandmother, who was amazingly supportive, but she died before Haru was born, so since then it was just us.”

Atsumu was silent, he wasn't sure what to say. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there? But that wasn’t enough, it didn’t change what you had to go through. The thought of you being in that delivery room by yourself only added onto the guilt on his shoulders, and his heart sank even further when he realized you had to do everything else alone too.

“Atleast Haru’s birth was quick!” You joked, a smile beaming on your face. Despite all that, you were still… positive? Atsumu was in disbelief, he probably couldn’t go through a fraction of what you had and still manage to put on a brave front. He always got into a mood, as Osamu called it, even at the smallest of inconveniences. You pushed a cup of tea towards him which he took graciously.

“Yer amazing,” he said in awe.

“It’s just tea,” you laughed, blowing on your cup. Atsumu shook his head.

“No,” he responded. “For everything. For what ya had to go through, and what you’ve done for Haru. And at eighteen? Osamu was still packing my lunches when I was that age.”

You laughed in response and it made his cheeks warm. He liked the sound, he thought.

“Let me get those photo albums I was talking about,” you said before walking into another room. You came back a few minutes later holding a few photo books.

 “Do you wanna start with the first one?” You asked, holding one out.

Atsumu eagerly nodded as he took the dusty blue album, decorated with ribbons and stickers. He could tell you had decorated it yourself. It showcased a picture of you holding a newborn Haru in the hospital. The picture almost made Atsumu frown, knowing you were by yourself that day, but he ended up smiling seeing how proudly you beamed holding the baby. He opened the book and inspected inside.

There was a sonogram of each phase Haru was in during your pregnancy, and eventually a few photos of Haru being born in the hospital. He saw the tiny notes you wrote besides the pictures, and his mouth grew agape when he saw 3.68kg written next one of Haru’s pictures.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, noticing his expression. “He was a big baby, I guess since his dad’s a pro athlete and everything.”

His face grew more horrified and he almost wanted to apologize. He apologize to his mom too considering she had twins. Then another picture caught his attention.

 “Hey, what’s this one?” He asked, pointing to another photo.

He pointed towards a picture that looked somewhat recent, he could tell since Haru seemed to be almost the same age in the picture as he was now. It was of you in a graduation cap and gown holding up Haru proudly who looked like he was cheering. It definitely wasn’t your high school graduation since Haru was in it.

“Oh, that’s when I graduated from university last year.”

“Ya completed university?” Atsumu asked in astonishment.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Pretty proud of myself. I was working two jobs and had to take night classes for a couple years but I ended up getting my degree finally a few months ago, then I got a great job at the firm I’m at now.”

No, you’re not just amazing, you’re phenomenal.

The rest of the night was filled with you and Atsumu looking over Haru’s pictures, some of his favorites being Haru’s second birthday where he had cake painted across his face from where he tried to eat his birthday cake face-first, his first day of preschool (which he found out he started this year), and one of you and Haru at a festival with matching daifuku in hand. He made a mental note to take you both when he saw how brightly you both smiled. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the photos, he was paying attention to you. He was getting to know you again.

“It’s getting late,” you yawned. “I have work tomorrow, and I probably have to explain why I missed the party tonight.”

Atsumu groaned. “That reminds me, I have to explain to my coaches tomorrow why I ran out of practice, they probably won’t believe me though.”

You giggled, before sliding out the picture of Haru’s second birthday from the book. “Maybe you can use this as proof.”

Atsumu took the photo and smiled warmly in the picture in his hands. The picture would find a well-loved home in his wallet, but would later be replaced with a picture of the three of you adorning matching jerseys on Haru’s eighth birthday at one of Atsumu’s games.

reblogs, comments, & asks are appreciated!

If you could go back in time, you never would’ve hooked up with Miya Atsumu in that stupid bathroom stall a month ago. In fact, you would’ve sworn a life of celibacy from that point on if you knew that you would end up here. No sex before marriage, and all that. But it was too late for regret, especially when your period was well over a week late. You silently prayed this was all just some twisted joke.

Your phone alarm went off, indicating the three minutes were up and it promptly ended your little prayer. Your heart caught in your throat at the realization that you were going to have to look at the pregnancy test resting on your lap like a ten-ton weight. There was no way it was going to be positive, you argued with yourself. You were on the pill, you were pretty responsible minus for that impulsive moment with Atsumu (if you could call it that), and you were too young to be having a baby. It was impossible, right?

You shakily inhaled. It was going to be false. It was going to be false and all of this would be something you could laugh at later down the road. All this would just be a silly mistake and you would learn your lesson for it. You repeated the mantra to yourself as you shakily held up the pink stick in your hand. False. False.

Two lines. Positive.

The small dingy bathroom was quickly filled with the sounds of your sobs.

PRESENT DAY — OSAKA, JAPAN

Miya Osamu had seen his fair share of customers. From the normal regulars, the die-hard MSBY fangirls trying to catch a glimpse of Atsumu whenever he stopped in from lunch, and to the old woman who once tried to whack him with her purse when her free onigiri coupon expired. It was safe to say he was well acquainted with most of the patrons who came inside his humble restaurant. (Humble being one of the most popular restaurants in Osaka, that is.)

Osamu was working a normal shift at the front, a Tuesday afternoon with not much to worry about besides the to-go orders and the day to day business. Some days were like this, plain and simple. He was glad it didn’t seem too busy that day, maybe he could close early since the dinner rush had ended earlier than he thought. Deciding to have a short day was one of the perks of being the owner, afterall. He was organizing the display case of ready-made onigiri when the front door opened with a bell ring.

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he greeted. The woman who entered gave him a polite nod and wave before attending to the child beside her. She brought him up to the display case where she read off a few flavors for the young boy to pick from. Osamu furrowed his eyebrows, he recognized you. 

He hadn’t seen you before though, he thought. You were wearing a business-like outfit, indicating you probably were at work beforehand and probably just coming in for some dinner before heading home. He usually remembered most faces who came in here, especially his office-working customers since they frequented the restaurant during their lunches, or at the end of shift dinners. But he couldn’t quite recall you. It was odd though, he felt like he knew you from somewhere. Granted, he would have remembered knowing somebody with a kid, all of his friends were young and single mostly. Maybe you were someone from highschool? 

The little boy excitedly pointed out the tuna mayo flavor sitting in the display case, and you walked up to the cash register where Osamu stood. Your son held your leg shyly as he hid behind you.

“Hello,” you greeted with a smile. “I’m here to pick up a catering order for the Osaka Publishing Firm.”  

Oh, so you were picking up the food for the party he was catering. 

I don’t think I know anybody from Osaka Publishing though, Osamu thought to himself before shrugging it off. You probably just had a familiar face.

“And also could I get a tuna mayo onigiri with that?” You added, patting the head of your son still clinging onto your leg. “Haru here isn’t quite full from his lunch.” 

Osamu laughed as he looked down at the boy, still meekly hiding behind his mother. He was barely at her waist, and peeked up at him with curious brown eyes. Osamu remembered doing the same thing when he was at that age and felt a kindredness for him. The world is so big when you’re that small. “Big appetite, huh?”

“I wanna be a big strong athlete!” He announced, poking his head out from behind his mother. The way the boy gave him a toothy smile gave him an odd sense of déjà vu, but he had definitely never seen the kid before. 

“Let me go get the catering order for ya in the back,” Osamu said, and the woman nodded.

Osamu went through the doors behind the counter into the kitchen. He found the boxes of onigiri wrapped up neatly, ready to go for you out front. As he was double checking the order, he still felt himself rifling through his mind. Where had he seen you before? It was odd, but he shook off the nagging thoughts. You were probably just a customer from the past he forgot about. Though, it started to bother him that he couldn’t recall.

“Alright,” Osamu said, bringing out the order to the front counter. “I have five catering boxes, and one tuna mayo onigiri for mister Haru here.” The little boy beamed up at him, and Osamu chuckled. He was one cute kid, he’ll give him that.

“Do you use fatty tuna in the riceballs?” Haru asked, standing on his tippy toes so he could reach the counter and look at Osamu. “It’s my favorite!”

“Ya know, that’s actually my brother’s favorite food,” Osamu chuckled as he finished wrapping up the boxes.

The kid almost reminded him of Atsumu, he had the same energeticness and toothy smile. And not to mention Haru liked fatty tuna of all things. Funny, now that Osamu thinks of it, Haru kind of looked like his brother when he was that age. He had the same big bright eyes, ruffled dark hair that couldn’t quite be tamed… 

Now that he thought about it, Haru looked like Atsumu. 

A lot… Actually. 

He looked back at you, and you were too busy scribbling down a check in your checkbook. He looked long and hard, and he was right earlier, you did go to high school with him. He can vaguely recall a fuzzy image of your face. You weren’t in the same class, but you definitely were in the same grade. But if he couldn't remember who you were, why did he recognize you then? And why was it bothering the hell out of him that he couldn’t? He felt his brain short circuiting as he scanned your face for answers. 

You looked back at him with a smile, sticking the check out for him. He looked at your smile and then it clicked. 

FIVE YEARS AGO — HYOGO PREFECTURE, THE MIYA RESIDENCE

“She ghosted me!” Atsumu cried, flopping onto Osamu’s bed in their shared bedroom. Osamu felt a vein pop in his forehead, not only was his annoying brother interrupting his quiet time, he also intruded onto his beloved bed. When you shared a room, it was practically like crossing into illegal territory.

“I thought I could ask her out but she just ups and moves away! She even changed her number.” Atsumu whined, kicking his feet like a bratty child. Osamu was practically living with one anyway seeing as how the eighteen year old acted. He grimaced at the way Atsumu was roughing up the bedsheets he had just washed.

“She probably realized ya ain’t shit,” Osamu scoffed, attempting to shove him off the bed.

Osamu didn’t know much about his brother’s mystery girl, besides the fact she was Atsumu’s recent (of many) infatuations. He found it odd that she had abruptly moved without a word, especially since he thought she and Atsumu were hitting it off pretty well. (Maybe a little too well, according to a particular bathroom rumor he heard from a first year.) Maybe her parents had to move for work or something of the sort, but hey, it was none of his business nor his problem. He looked over to see Atsumu still lamenting beside him as he scrolled through his phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Osamu asked, realizing he had never actually met you in-person since you were in Atsumu’s class and not his. He thanked his lucky stars he ended up being in a separate class from Osamu in their third year.

Atsumu shoved his phone in Osamu’s face with her Instagram profile on the screen. 

A girl with a bright smile plastered on the screen.

PRESENT DAY

He remembered now. He looked back at you, and realized you were the face on Atsumu’s phone. That girl who hooked up with his brother and disappeared five years ago was you. Then he remembered the little boy standing beside you, the one who looked eerily like his twin brother. He looked back down at Haru, who was eyeing the onigiri on the counter hungrily. 

There was no way…

“Hey kid, how old are ya?”

“Four!” He grinned. Osamu swore it was Atsumu’s grin staring right back at him. 

Osamu’s brain was going into overdrive as he went over the details. Five years ago, some girl—who he was damn near positive was you—ghosted his brother after hooking up with him. She moved away without a word and Atsumu never heard from her again. Now five years later, you showed up in his restaurant with a four year old who looked almost exactly like his brother.

What if the reason you moved away suddenly was because…

Quite frankly, Osamu felt like he was shitting bricks.

His brain was doing somersaults and he felt like the world’s gravity swung upside-down. With the facts lined up, and not to mention the math, his theory was seemingly impossible to deny. If you were the girl he thought you were, that would mean it was more than likely this kid was Atsumu’s. 

“Alright, here’s the money for the order,” you said, hand still stretched out. “I hope a company check will do.”

No, no, you can’t leave! He couldn’t lose you, who knew if you’d ever show up again. He needed a way to confirm your identity, and quickly. 

“Actually,” Osamu replied, scrambling in his head for some answer. “We don’t take checks, only cash and card.”

“I guess I have some money on me–” No, cash wouldn’t tell him your name!

“Would you look at that! The cash register isn’t opening!” Osamu chuckled nervously, repeatedly punching a random button on the register that definitely wasn’t the open button. 

You’re obviously growing more suspicious as you raised an eyebrow, Osamu was clearly acting strange, even he knew it. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be acting like a damn moron (that was more Atsumu), but obviously nothing about this was normal. 

“Oh, okay then,” you frowned, digging through your purse and handing him a card. Perfect! He thought. He took it graciously, and quickly looked at the name on it. Damnit, it’s a company card. He was running out of time before you walked out those doors.

“I think that our card machine on the machine is broken too actually,” Osamu stammered, quickly making up another lie. “I’m gonna have to manually input it in the back, but to do that, I’m gonna need a name to put it under.”

“Osaka Publishing should work,” you replied, growing noticeably weirded out. 

“I need an actual name,” he stiffly grinned. “Ya know, to put it in the books incase we need a contact to give you a refund.”

You looked at him oddly, “It’s (L/N) (F/N).” There we go!

“Wait here!” He responded almost too quickly. He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was rushing into the kitchen again. Once he was in the clear, he dug his phone out of his pocket, and quickly dialed his brother. You better pick up, you no-good piece of shit! He thought.

The phone rang agonizingly long before he was greeted with the sounds of volleyballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking on gym floors when Atsumu picked up. He sighed deeply and his shoulders collapsed in relief. 

“Ya better have a good reason to be bothering me at practice ‘Samu!--”

“What’s the name of the girl who ghosted ya in high school?!” Osamu barked abruptly.

“What the–” Atsumu responded, taken aback. “Why–”

“Atsumu, tell me now!” 

Atsumu paused on the other side.

“It was (L/N) (F/N), why?”

Osamu’s stomach dropped to his shoes. You were the same girl. There was no doubt about it now. The kid outside had to be his nephew, and Atsumu’s son.

“Atsumu, ya need to come to the restaurant right now,” Osamu instructed hastily. “(Y/N) is here–” Atsumu’s laugh interrupted him. 

“I know I was pretty torn up about it back then, but I don’t see why I need to–”

“Listen to me, ya moron!” Osamu exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you think it was weird she ghosted ya out of nowhere five years ago after hooking up with ya? Well, she’s here right now with a four year old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like you is a coincidence.”

Atsumu grew silent. As much as Osamu reprimanded his brother for his lack of brains, he knew he wasn’t a big enough idiot not to hear what he was implying. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

—

You wiped Haru’s messy face with a handkerchief as he finished his onigiri. You sighed as you looked at your wristwatch, at this rate you were going to be late to the company party. Where was the cashier? Not only did he start acting bizarrely out of nowhere, he disappeared without a trace.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, and you saw Naomi’s caller ID. You picked up with a groan.

“Hey, did you pick up the food yet?”

“Naomi, this is the last time I’m ever doing a favor for you,” you grumbled. “This is taking way longer than you said it would.”

“That’s odd,” Naomi hummed in confusion. “They called me earlier to tell me my order was ready to be picked up, there shouldn’t be any holdup.”

“Well,” you responded as you scooped Haru into your arms, who was growing sleepy with his full stomach. “The cashier is kind of a weirdo.” 

You recalled the prior minutes to Naomi, noting that the “open button” he was pushing on the cash register was definitely the ‘7’ button. You would have left at that point if not for the fact he still had your company card with him, not to mention the catering for the party.

“He never acts weird whenever I go there for lunch, I actually think Osamu’s hot!” So that was his name.“Maybe you don’t notice because you got a nutty sense in men,” you snickered. You recalled the past few boyfriends Naomi had, who were less than conventional.

“Hey!” Naomi responded defensively. “But let me tell you, you should see his brother!” 

You rolled your eyes in response, even if Naomi couldn’t see it. You remembered he had mentioned his brother earlier, who shared a love of fatty tuna like your son. Though, if he was anything like the odd brother you were with, you probably didn’t wanna meet him.

“Oh no,” you muttered, looking at the time. It was nearly six o’clock. “I’m gonna be late for the sitter at this rate.”

“Y’know what,” Naomi said, “I’m ready now, just get Haru to the babysitter and I’ll get the food since you need to run, I want an excuse to look at that hunk anyway.” You laughed in response.

“You sure? I can wait a little longer.” You replied, not wanting your friend to be chewed out by your boss for being late, however, you were met with Naomi insisting.

“Alright, then.” You shrugged, you certainly weren’t going to argue since the babysitter charged a late fee. You looked back down at your son, dozing off in your arms. “Haru, baby, we’re gonna go to the babysitter now.”

Your son hummed in your arms, already drifting off into sleep. 

“Uh, sir!” you called out loud enough for the man to hear you in the back kitchen. “I actually have to get going now so somebody else is going to come pick up the food.”

Before you could even get your bearings to get ready and leave, he frantically came bursting out from the kitchen. “Hold on, you can’t leave!”

You were taken aback and dropped your phone in shock at his sudden appearance. Oh hell no, this guy really was crazy! You clutched your son closer, who was still fast asleep. You were now in protective mama bear mode now, and you were ready to throw down with the now assumably crazy cashier in front of you. You glanced around the restaurant for anyone else to help, but unluckily enough for you, you were alone. However, you looked down at your fallen phone to notice Naomi was still on the line.

 “I don’t know what your deal is but if you keep this up I’m calling the cops!” You shouted. “I’m leaving!”

“Wait, hear me out!--” As he tried to approach you. Absolutely not!

“Naomi, help!” You screeched, backing away, and you could hear the girl on the other line shouting back. You could hear her door slam on the other side, presumably to go get you.

You felt Haru start to fuss in your arms. “Mama, what’s going on?”

You spun around and made a beeline for the door, despite the protests of the insane man behind you. You were about to rush out the door before you slammed into somebody. It wasn’t Naomi, there was no way she could have made it this quickly, and the chest of whoever it was, was definitely a larger man. You looked up, praying it could be someone who could help you, but what you were greeted with was much worse.

“(Y/N)?” Miya Atsumu stammered.

Well fuck, you were definitely gonna be late now.

notes: if ur wondering, y/n didn’t recognize osamu bc they never met in high school!! i tried to make osamu figuring out as realistic as possible but at the end of the day this is still fiction 😔