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Yearning.
An intense longing for something.
That’s what the previous five years had been for Atsumu.
Five years of pining, aching, and longing for someone who was right out of his reach.
Five years of those big brown eyes, those expressive smiles and that expression that got him every time, that raw hunger he saw on her face. That wanting of something more, always wanting something more.
Hinata Shouyou was someone Atsumu was never meant to meet. Or rather, because of some twisted fate, someone he was always meant to meet.
He’d accidentally bumped into her during his second year in high school. Inarizaki had made National’s. Team morale was on a high– Atsumu was on a high. He was motivated, he was ready, he was really feeling it, and he was–
“Ow!”
–bumping into someone?
He turned around, a little irked that this person hadn’t moved out of his way, even though he was the one at fault for not looking where he was going. Now, he was going to have to talk to a random scrub he didn’t want to talk to all because–
“Watch where you’re going!” Brown eyes looked at him, although they weren’t brown. Under the fluorescent lighting of the waiting room, they were more hazel. But the intense gaze floating around in them made them look golden.
He noted that she was tiny, but her frustrated expression told Atsumu she was a spitfire. Her hair was blazing red, almost hurting to look at, and she was wearing a #10 Niiyama Girl’s Jersey.
He racked his brain trying to remember the match he knew he’d watched, which got Niiyama past the finals in the Spring and to the Nationals, representing Miyagi with Karasuno.
This was their… Libero?
No, no. He furrowed his brow, focusing intently on her face as he tried his hardest to remember.
“Oh!” He exclaimed, startling her, “You’re the short one– number 10! You jump super high, don’t ya?”
She huffed up at him and crossed her hands over her chest, trying her hardest to intimidate him. But to Atsumu, she just looked like a disgruntled puppy.
“It’s Hinata Shouyou, not the ‘short one’! I’m gonna beat you and become the best! Height doesn’t matter! Just watch me!” She proclaimed, stomping away and leaving a confused Atsumu behind.
‘Beat me…? We don’t even compete in the same category…’
He’d forgotten about her for the most part. But she’d wander into his head when he’d occasionally spot the shock of red hair over the next few days. She was buddy-buddy with Bokuto from Fukurodani. She seemed to worm her way into the favour of the prickly second-year setter from Nekoma, and she had a steady ‘rivalry’ with Tobio-kun.
The last one was amusing to him. After his loss at the hands of Karasuno, he’d been a little less bummed when he saw Tobio-kun clashing heads, literally , with Hinata Shouyou.
After his last match, Atsumu was wrapping up his belongings and walking out of the locker room when he spotted her red hair before him. She was leaning against the wall, waiting for him.
“You’re strong, " she said. Atsumu wanted to laugh; he wanted to, but her fierce gaze made him swallow his laughter and stare back at her, perplexed.
“Yeah…” He managed to reply, his throat dry under her eyes.
“One day… I want to spike your sets.” She concluded, pushing herself off the wall, putting her hands in her white jacket, and walking past him.
This time, Atsumu did let out a little laugh. He seemed to understand that this girl– Hinata Shouyou– was a volleyball freak, probably more so than him. This girl, barely five foot three, had declared war on him and struck up camaraderie with him within three days.
In three days, Hinata Shouyou captured him completely and totally with those eight words, and Atsumu’s head was filled with hazel eyes and red hair for the next few months. He couldn’t even bring himself to be as bummed as his brother about the loss to Karasuno.
He’d spend days thinking about her. This girl was the embodiment of fire. Tough, strong and everlasting. She was aggressive when she needed to be and shone so brightly on the court.
He’d found videos of her matches in tournaments in Miyagi. He’d watched her progress over the year, watching her win against big names like Hiashi and Karasuno. He’d watch her lose against powerhouses like Kumashi and Shiratorizawa.
“You’re weird. Ya know that?” Osamu commented one evening. Atsumu was watching the highlights of one of Hinata’s matches as he’d regularly done whenever he could.
“What?” Atsumu snapped. He put aside his laptop and began his nighttime routine with a frown.
“You’re grumpy ‘cause that girl ya like lost her interim matches, aren’t ya? Ya won’t see her when we compete and that’s why yer pissed.” Osamu commented offhandedly. For such a deadpan guy he was an observant piece of shit.
Atsumu scoffed. “I don’t know what ya mean.”
“You stalk her every move like a creep. Just say ya like her and stop bein’ a brat.”
Atsumu threw a well-aimed pillow at him.
The next year, the stakes are high for Atsumu. He’s a third year, and he’s got something to prove to his old seniors, to Osamu, to himself.
“Good luck out there.”
He turned from his position, watching a close game between two schools, to find the object of his recent desires.
Hinata Shouyou, now a second year, was looking at him with that intense gaze. The same one he’d imagined so frequently. She was taller, he observed. Her arms and thighs looked more considerable, and her face had slightly slimmed down. Her hair was longer as well– although it was a little dishevelled. She was sweating. She’d just come out from a match.
She looked so beautiful that Atsumu had to clench and unclench his hands while cursing out his brother six ways from Sunday.
“I don’t need luck.” He replied, all confident and cocky. How else was he supposed to hide his nervousness?
“Maybe you don’t. Maybe you do. But if you lose, it would be pretty embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” The intensity in her eyes was gone, replaced with mirth. She looked more comfortable laughing.
Atsumu let out a startled laugh and then frowned. “Whatever. I’m goin’ ta put those crows down this year, that’s for sure.” He grit out, remembering how bummed his entire team was with the loss. He needed the win. They needed it.
She grinned at him. “I admire you, Miya-san! Your sets always go like ‘Woosh!’ and the spiker always gets it, and it goes ‘Bwahh!’ You’re super cool!” She exclaimed, waving her hands around in ridiculous motions.
Oh.
Why’d his stomach flip when she did that?
Atsumu scoffed. “Of course I am. Any guy who can’t spike my sets is just a scrub.”
Before Atsumu could even think about it, he raised his hand to ruffle her unruly red hair. “Call me Atsumu.” He said.
She tilted her head at him. Atsumu tried not to think about how cute she looked doing that.
“Good luck to you too, Shouyou-chan!” He waved at her, quickly heading back to his team before seeing her reaction.
They’d won the match. Atsumu basked in his victory, picturing Kita-san’s proud face before him. He had earned this. A year later, Inarizaki turned the tables on Karasuno.
He turned to face the opposite side of the net, furrowing his brow as he saw Shouyou pat Tobio sympathetically on his shoulder while simultaneously comforting their ace and libero. He made eye contact with her from across the court, and she sent him a slight grin.
He felt his lips quirk up before he was pulled away to the locker room.
After changing and gathering his bag, he exited the room with Osamu, only to see a familiar face.
Shouyou was standing there, same as last year, with that same intensity in her eyes.
Osamu sent him a knowing look as he introduced himself to the girl.
Atsumu quickly shooed his brother away and sent a smile to Shouyou. “I told you I didn’t need the luck.”
She ignored the comment in favour of stepping towards him quickly and grabbing his hand. She took a pen out of her pocket and scribbled down numbers onto his palm. “Text me.” That was all she said, sending him a wink and quickly running to what Atsumu assumed was her team.
He looked at his hands as she left. Her’s were considerably smaller than his, and his fingers burned from where she gripped them. His stomach flipped again.
What was this feeling?
He did text her.
He texted and texted and then the texts turned to calls.
By the time he graduated, Atsumu was completely infatuated with the redhead– and everyone around him knew it.
“Shouyou-chan likes meat buns.” He sighed one evening. Osamu, Rin and he were outside the gym, snacking on some meat buns that they had bought. He could practically hear Rin and Osamu rolling their eyes in the background.
“Again with the Shouyou-chan…” Mumbled the brunette.
“Just ask her out already, it’s getting pathetic,” Osamu replied, shaking his head at his twin.
“It's pretty disgusting watching you pine, man.” Rin agreed, finishing off his snack.
Atsumu scowled at them. “Whatever.” He pointedly ignored their sniggering and comments as they teased him for being shy.
“Come watch me play.”
Atsumu was startled at the words. He had just picked up a call from Shouyou.
“What?” He answered, completely confused.
“You’re in Tokyo, right?” She asked. He’d told her a week ago that he’d moved out to Tokyo for university on a sports scholarship. He remembers the absolute satisfaction that crawled up his body when she congratulated him and told him she would come visit.
“Yeah.”
“We made it to Nationals.” She said. He could hear the grin in her voice, and he expected nothing less from the girl. Her team always made it to Nationals, in some way or another, after all.
“That’s amazing, Shouyou-chan! I’m so proud.” He complimented her, hearing her hum of acknowledgement through the speaker.
“So, come watch me play.”
Atsumu smiled, his stomach flipping as it so often did when he had a conversation with the girl. “I’ll be there.” He answered.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Seeing the redhead jump in person was much different than watching it on video.
Atsumu felt his breath leave his lungs when she soared above the net, hitting the ball with intense power. He cheered, waving his hands around like a crazy person, and felt a rush of excitement when her eyes found his. He was rewarded with a crazed grin.
‘Watch me.’ She mouthed at him, but Atsumu could only stand there and nod like an idiot.
After the match, he managed to find her. He approached her and sang compliments on her jump, spike, and serve.
Shouyou laughed and tackled him, hugging him tightly. Atsumu felt his body burn with desire as her skin made contact with his. He’d wound his arms around her waist and picked her up, spinning her around once.
“Thank you!” She smiled up at him. Atsumu ruffled her hair.
“For what?”
“For watching me.”
“Always.”
She graduated on a sunny day in March. He texted her to congratulate her, and she sent back an obnoxious number of emoticons.
He had received a call at seven that night; he didn’t need to check the caller ID as he held the phone to his ear. “How is life without High School treating ya, Shou-chan?”
She laughed, “I feel restless.”
He smiled. “Have ya been accepted to any colleges yet?”
She didn’t answer. He furrowed his brows, feeling a small pit forming in his stomach. “Shouyou?”
“I’m going to go pro.” She replied. Her words took on the same tone she spoke to him right before a big tournament. He imagined her eyes filling with the same intensity he fell for.
“I… I know this.”
“I’m not strong enough.” She claimed. Atsumu scoffed and swallowed his saliva as he thought of a response.
“Who said that?” He asked, running a nervous hand through his hair.
“I’m saying that,” She answered. “Maiko-chan got a sports scholarship for a good university. Ama-chan got scouted for the V-League. What am I doing here?”
“You’re just as good.” He stated. He did his best to put his conviction in his words, but he knew they wouldn’t reach her.
She laughed. “I’m not.”
Atsumu scowled, sighing in frustration. “So?”
“So?”
“You’re going ta follow all that up with a ‘So.’ Right?” He questioned, “So, what is it?”
“So… I’m going.” She replied. Her words became softer, like she was trying to avoid the topic altogether.
“Where?” His words lost his frustration, too. The dread was spreading.
“To Rio. To train in beach volleyball.” She said. Her voice resolute. There was nothing he could do now to change her mind.
“Rio… Like Brazil? You’re going to Brazil?” He asked, laughing. He sounded hysterical.
“Yeah. I need to get stronger, and I can’t do that here.” She replied, starting to sound more persuasive.
“Sure, ya can! There are beaches in Japan!” He argued, letting his temper get the better of him.
“I know that! But Brazil has the best of the best! What’s with you?! Don’t you want the best for me?” She yelled, breathing heavily into her phone.
Atsumu groaned. “Of course I do! You know I do! But what about everything here? What about your friends, your sister? What about…” He trailed off, but the statement was already out there for her to piece together. What about me?
“I need to do this. Volleyball is my life. I’ll be gone for two years. I’ll get stronger and return, and then we can play together, right?” She asked, sounding hopeful.
He smiled. “Yeah… Yeah, we’ll play together, Shou-chan.” He looked down at his fingers and flexed them, fighting the urge to be beside her. To hold her. “I’ll miss you.”
“Me too.” She replied.
She left in a year. Atsumu spent the whole year dreading the moment he’d have to let her go. He’d spent the entire year pining after her, but that was all he could do.
“Why won’t you tell her?” Kita asked. He was visiting Atsumu and his brother at Osamu’s unofficial store, which he planned to open. So far, it was a dump of a place that Osamu was breaking his back at part-time jobs to renovate.
“Tell her what?” Atsumu asked, nursing his soda can.
“That ya like her,” Kita replied.
Atsumu grimaced. “Then what? What do I expect her to do? Make it work from Brazil? She has the weight of perfecting a challenging sport on her shoulders already. Not to mention, she has to learn Portuguese as well. I can’t add to that.” He sighed. “I can’t expect her to put aside exhaustion and challenges just for a text or call back. I won't to that to her.”
Osamu sighed and clasped a hand around his shoulder. Kita sent him a reassuring smile. Atsumu smiled back. This was all he could do for her.
He’d spent the year travelling occasionally to Miyagi and then having Shouyou travel to Tokyo. They’d spend days together, going around the city and different cafes, spending their limited time together.
Atsumu sighed as he felt Shouyou’s warm hand run through his hair. They were in his dorm room. He was sitting on the bed as she stood in front of him. She was in a pair of shorts and his shirt; he was in his boxers and an old jersey. There were two cups of coffee on his bedside table, forgotten as they lost themselves in each other. The morning sun was starting to peek through half-covered windows.
Atsumu would like to note that they had an undefined relationship. They weren’t dating, no, definitely not. They weren’t exactly friends, either. Friends didn’t hug each other like they did, with winding hands around necks and waists that lingered longer than they should. Friends didn’t hold hands when they went out, clinging to fingers with an untamed feeling. Friends certainly didn’t share a small twin bed, caressing each other's faces and pressing feather kisses everywhere except the one area where it mattered.
He was tethered to her—mind, body, and soul—and he knew that she knew it, too. The thread connecting them was thin and fragile, and he couldn’t do anything, which frustrated him deeply. He couldn’t pull her closer but couldn’t push her away. He was too afraid of the thread snapping.
“Why’d you go blonde?” She asked, leaning into him. He brought his left hand to rest above her waist. She tilted her head to look down at him. He looked up at her. She was captivating in the morning light.
Shouyou would keep her hair just below her jaw in High School so that training would be easier. But over the year, she’d let it grow out; it was just passing her shoulder now. It fell in waves over her collarbones; the sun's yellow made her hair glow. Her eyes were the softest he’d ever seen. Flecks of lighter brown floated in them as she gazed at his head.
“Someone called me ‘Osamu’ once. I hated it, so I dyed it on a whim.” He mumbled back, the memory still annoying him occasionally. “I was fifteen, I think.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Why’d you keep it? Its so… Yuck!” She exclaimed softly, following the outline of his ear with her finger. He shivered under her touch.
He stuck his tongue out at her. “Hey! I’ll have ya know that people like it! Plus, it’s hard ta maintain!” He squeezed her side; he grinned as she laughed louder. He loved her smile. He loved so much about her.
“It could be better…” She suggested. “Do you have any classes today?” He shook his head and grinned as she got that determined gleam in her eyes.
Five hours and more than a few chip packets later, Atsumu had lighter blonde hair– all thanks to Shouyou.
He styled it in the mirror, looking to his right to see her watching him from her place on the bathtub's edge. “How do I look?” He asked.
“Handsome.”
He felt his stomach flip.
Twelve months and four days passed by quickly than ever. Atsumu found himself battling a losing battle with his nervousness as he went to the airport with Shouyou right next to him in the taxi. She was clutching his hand as hard as he was clutching hers. He stared at her for the longest time from his place on her left, trying to memorise the curve of her nose, the angle of her jaw, the arch of her lips.
She kept her gaze firmly out the window. She was chewing on her bottom lip– a nervous tick that he’d come to notice. Her worried expression was a world away from the expression she usually had.
They exited and made their way to the gate. Shouyou called her sister and mother before she boarded, saying her ‘I love you’s’ and her ‘I’ll see you’s’ before her flight. After she did, she turned to him.
The expression on her face and the fire in her eyes reminded him of the day he first met her. The intensity and emotion were almost too much for him to handle. He stepped towards her and swept her up in a hug, savouring the moment when she wound her hands around his shoulders. He clung to her waist.
He pulled away and cupped her face. “Call me when you land.”
She had her hands on his neck, looking up at him. “I will.”
“Keep track of your belongings.”
“I will.”
“Don’t talk to any strangers.”
“I won’t.”
“Stay safe.” He whispered, furrowing his brow in a poor attempt to stop himself from crying.
“I always do.” She whispered back, letting go of him when the final boarding announcement sounded.
Atsumu breathed in, missing her already as he kept his gaze on her. She was backing away with a sad smile on her face. “Shouyou I–”
“Don’t," she said. Her voice hadn’t wavered.
He snapped his mouth shut, sniffing loudly as the first tear began to fall.
“Tell me when I get back, okay?” She said, turning around. She boarded and didn’t look back.
“I will.” He whispered.
At nineteen, he was half a world away from her.
While Shouyou was busy conquering the sand, all Atsumu could do was watch her through photographs and video calls. All he could do was hear her loneliness through the phone and wish so badly that he could be there for her, wrap her up in his arms and hug her as tight as he could. All he could do was be there for her through shitty connections and a crackling voice as he tried his hardest to will her back to him.
At twenty, he was scouted by the Black Jackals at his university’s tournament and started playing as their main setter. He was happy, overjoyed, elated–even. So was Shouyou. She’d shared her latest achievement with him: finding a steady volleyball partner called ‘Heitor’. Atsumu counted down the days until he could see her again. He watched her matches online obsessively, just like he had in High School.
He stayed up and hung onto her every word on phone calls as she went about her day, listening in on unfamiliar conversations as she spoke to her roommate in Portuguese. He’d been introduced to Heitor and his wife, Nice. He’d spoken to her roommate Pedro in slow Japanese as a favour to Shouyou when she learned he was practicing her language. He’d heard about the various characters she’d meet daily, making him miss her more.
At twenty-one, he found himself standing at the same airport terminal as two years ago. He was a few centimetres taller this time, and his hair was much shorter. He was scrolling through Shouyou’s chat as he read her arrival time repeatedly. He tapped his foot impatiently.
“Jeez, you look super grumpy!”
He looked up from his phone with wide eyes, almost dropping the object in shock as he turned around to the source of the voice.
She stood there, as beautiful as ever. She was taller now, standing as tall as his shoulders. Her striking hair was almost at her elbows, and her eyes were golden against her tanned skin. She’d gotten stronger, her arms were more toned, and she stood more confident than before she left. She looked at him with a cheeky smile that turned softer at the edges before she opened her arms. “Yo, ‘Tsumu.”
He ran to her, lifting her and twirling her around. She laughed, pulling a chuckle out of him, too. He breathed her in– everything about her. He missed her like a drug and swore never to let go of her again.
She hooked her legs around his waist as he kept her up, pulling away to smile at her. “Ya look good. That Brazilian sun’s great on ya.”
She hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I missed you… Did you miss me?”
“Always.”
Five years of yearning later, Atsumu found himself in Osamu’s restaurant.
He was at a celebration to welcome Shouyou back. The restaurant was filled with her old teammates, some of the guys from the Karasuno team, and many other people he barely recognised. Kita and Aran were helping Osamu out and looked at him with pity whenever Shouyou smiled at him.
“So… Shou-chan! Tell us, any paramours in Rio?” Questioned a girl, the libero from Shouyou’s team in High School.
Shouyou turned pink and started scratching at her cheek. “Eh? No way! Come on… You know I only went there to play!”
“No way!”
“Come on, tell us, Shouyou! Isn’t there anyone you like?!”
Shouyou looked up briefly before nodding, “Of course there is! We’re just… Taking it slow– I guess?”
Atsumu looked at her and then back at his drink, sighing as he furrowed his brow. He excused himself and stepped out of the restaurant for a breather. After a few minutes, he heard the door open.
“‘Tsumu? What are you doing–”
“I love you.” He said. Turning to Shouyou.
Her eyes widened as she looked at him; her nose was beginning to turn red in the cold. “What…?”
He looked inside for a second and then back at her. “The person you were talkin’ about. The one you were taking it slow with? That’s me, isn't it?” he asked. He laughed when she didn’t answer and continued looking at him with her mouth slightly open. “If it isn’t me, I’ll seriously be embarrased–”
“It’s you.” She quickly answered. “Its… Always been you.”
He smiled at her, soft and sweet. “I’m done takin’ it slow with ya. I love you, Shouyou. I want to be with you.”
She choked out a sound, wringing her hands together in a rare nervousness display. Atsumu watched her momentarily and sighed, opening his mouth to reassure her that she didn’t have to answer immediately. Before he could, though, she rushed toward him.
She grabbed his face and pushed her lips to his. The heat of her mouth was a warm invitation to the cold. She tasted like iced tea and onigiri; her mouth moved against his, slipping out her tongue to follow the shape of his lower lip. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. She pulled away and he almost whined at the loss of heat.
“I love you.” She whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “I love you, God. I love you so much.” She kissed his nose, his cheeks, anything she could reach.
He laughed and pulled her into another kiss, less passionate than the last but just as affectionate. He tried to convey five years of feelings by moving his tongue against hers– and from the way she reciprocated– she understood them.
“Looks like he finally got his head out of his ass,” Aran commented, turning away from the scene unfolding in front of the restaurant before it turned obscene.
Osamu sighed. “I had a bet going with Rin that it wouldn’t happen until after the holidays!” He complained, his hands on his hips.
Kita smiled, “Young love is so beautiful.”
“You’re only a year older than us!”