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There were three things that people might not know about Hinata Shoyo (yes, THAT Hinata Shoyo, the one and only Ninja Shoyo), and they were:
- He wasn't always that good at volleyball. Borrowing what his volleyball partner, Kageyama Tobio, said in many interviews, "He sucked at high school."
- Believe it or not, he used to receive balls with his face. The rule said any body parts were allowed to touch the ball, and Hinata took that rule very seriously. So really, he was supposed to be immune with a bit of direct hits to his head here and there.
- But now, in the middle of a test match before the Olympics with the National Team, not only did he get a direct hit to the head, but he was also knocked unconscious. Which happened for the first time in his whole volleyball career. And somehow, when he woke up again, he could hear… a distant voice?
How could this happen, you ask? Well, here's the thing.
Shoyo knew both in theory and from his own experience that his setter, Miya Atsumu (yes, THAT Miya Atsumu, the best setter in Japan, the one and only) had killer serves — deadly enough to kill opponents' spirit, and also of course, their chance to win. But Shoyo wasn't aware of the fact that his serve could literally kill a person.
Shoyo already had a fair share of cannonballs hitting his head: Kageyama's serve? Check. Ushiwaka's spike? Check. Tsukishima's kill block? Check. So really, one would think that he was used to hard balls planted onto his face.
But it turned out that…
To his setter’s credit, prior to the practice match, Atsumu told him that it was unfair for Shoyo to be assigned in Kageyama's team, and not his. If Shoyo knew that the result of being in the opposite net from the blond setter would be him knocked unconscious, he would beg the head coach of the Olympic team to switch him.
The next thing Shoyo knew, after the very last thing he saw was a ball coming fast and hard toward him, he was already in the middle of the entirety of the National Team, plus their staff, swarming around him.
He just blacked out, didn't he? He was clearly lying on the ground. The concrete ground under him felt way too cold and hard to his liking.
Shoyo tried to blink, but even the act felt too much for him at the moment. His ears rang, and his eyes blurred. It almost kicked him into panic, honestly, that the way a deathly silence settled over his hearing.
Did Atsumu’s serve hit him that hard?
His vision came back first, and Shoyo noticed how Iwaizumi was by his side. Then there was Bokuto, and Kageyama, and Hoshiumi, and the others who were too far away, giving him room to breathe, which Shoyo appreciated more than anything, but still…
Where’s Atsumu-san?
For a slight idiotic moment, Shoyo tried to get up, which was, again, an idiotic move from him, because now he felt like puking. A curse was on the tip of his tongue, but then he stopped as he finally, like finally, heard something. A familiar voice… way too close to his ears?
Stupid, stupid, stupid fucking idiot Tsumu.
Shoyo blinked. If he could move, his body would probably jerk upward, surprised by the loud voice. But for now, he could only blink. He was sure his face was laced with confusion.
How many years you’ve been playing volleyball and you still couldn’t control your serves well? You hit Shoyo-kun. SHOYO, of all people, for God’s sake. Fuck. Should I go there? I shouldn’t. Too many people there, argh! But —
It hurt, and Iwaizumi was pushing his shoulders down, forcing him to not get up. But Shoyo must. He must know what the hell was happening right now. Why did he hear Atsumu’s voice — and not anyone’s, anything — like it came from inside his own head.
So Shoyo got up, his elbow supporting him, and there, still latched on his last spot where he did the jump serve, was Atsumu. His eyes wide, his whole face pale, and even from so far away, Shoyo could see how he trembled. Shoyo tried to smile at him, hoping that his setter could see that he was okay. He would be fine.
Well, despite the weird voice inside his head. A voice that was exactly Atsumu’s. Shoyo would recognize his voice anytime, anywhere.
So it really didn’t make sense, how Atsumu was way over there, across the court and even beyond, but Shoyo could hear, what he assumed, his thoughts.
I want to go to where Shoyo-kun is...
Now, Shoyo would like to blame it on Atsumu's double persona. On the court, his setter had this terrifying, undefeatable aura around him, sure. But after knowing Atsumu personally for a few years, that image was already erased from Shoyo's mind, replaced by the Atsumu who would fall to his knees when nobody wouldn't laugh at his jokes, the Atsumu who would sulk when he felt like his play was utterly lame that day, the Atsumu who would casually and comfortably rest on his shoulders whenever he felt like it. The many sides of Atsumu that made Shoyo forget that his setter was called a terrifying setter for a reason.
So maybe, this was his fault, for downplaying Atsumu’s serve. Resulting in him being careless, too relaxed in trying to receive the National Team number eleven’s serve. Or maybe, he just forgot how strong it was. The last time he played with Atsumu was a year ago, after all, in the Volleyball World Cup 2023.
Or really, maybe Shoyo just got worse on receiving.
The thought was too much of a nightmare that it jolted him awake after he blacked out a second time. He woke up easier this time, and registered his surroundings almost immediately. He wasn’t here often, but he could recognize the familiar clinic.
“He’s awake.”
Shoyo turned, and the sight of Tsukishima, his former high school teammate who was now included in the Olympic 2024 roster, was what welcomed him. “I’m not dead, right?” he asked, groaning.
“No, but unfortunately, your stupidity seems to be worsening. Not surprised, though,” was the last thing Tsukishima said before he scooted over, allowing Iwaizumi to take it from there.
Now that his brain wasn’t too muddled up after being squashed by a hard ball, Shoyo could try to make sense of what happened earlier — emphasize on try — while Iwaizumi was doing a thorough check on him.
Did it really happen? Did he really hear Atsumu’s thoughts or was it just his imagination, an illusion created by his brain as a way to make him not feel pain? Was that scientifically legit, even?
“Iwaizumi-san,” he croaked out, noting how his voice still sounded raw.
The athletic trainer turned to him. The crease in his forehead while examining him, all business and serious, replaced by concern. “What’s wrong? Your head hurts?”
“I’m fine, but…” Shoyo bit his lower lip, getting up while pondering whether it was okay to ask his trainer. But the only person here in the clinic was Tsukishima — who probably stayed because he was still awkward with the other National Team members — and Shoyo knew that if he asked the stupid question to the blocker, he would only get an eye roll as an answer. So albeit reluctant, he decided to roll the question out to the trainer. “I think there’s something wrong with my head. Is it possible that brain damage can make you hear people’s thoughts?”
Okay, now that he had said it out loud, it did sound really, really stupid, even for his standard. And the absolute confusion on the athletic trainer’s face and the amusement tone from the snort that Tsukishima just let out, seemed to be an enough confirmation that his question and concern were, indeed, stupid.
“Uhm,” Iwaizumi glanced at Tsukishima, who was snickering. Clearly lost for words, confused at how to answer. “I already examined you earlier, and you don't have a concussion, Hinata. You seemed to pass out from the shock. So…” he cleared his throat. “Hearing people’s thoughts, huh? Maybe I should bring you to the hospital...”
“No, Iwaizumi-san, let’s try this.” Tsukishima intervened. The remnants of laughter was still in his voice. “Read my mind, Hinata.”
Shoyo pouted at that. “Shut up, Tsukishima, I can’t read yours anyway. Could it be some compilations?”
"You mean complications."
"That's what I said. Anyway, forget what I just asked, Iwaizumi-san. It's stupid."
The oldest man in the room gave Shoyo a gentle smile before he patted his shoulder. “You gave us quite a fright, but you’re good to go.”
“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san.”
“I’ll call Miya in. He’s been waiting outside.”
At a moment’s notice, the mention of his setter’s name made his body tense. With the pressure behind his temple subsided, the worry and confusion over how he could hear Atsumu’s thoughts came back once more.
But, he could just be hallucinating earlier, right? After all, based on Iwaizumi’s answer, it wasn’t supposed to be possible…
The athletic trainer opened the door of the clinic, and not even a few milliseconds later, Atsumu came into view. As if he had been waiting, desperate for that door to be opened.
“How’s he?” The rough voice that Shoyo previously heard in his head registered into his ears. The voice gave him the familiar comfort he needed all the same.
“He’s fine. See for yourself.” And with that, Iwaizumi left the room, leaving Shoyo alone in the clinic with Tsukishima who also prepared to leave.
The door creaked, opening wider, and a figure — the presence that Shoyo could recognize in a heartbeat — came into view. The bright light of the clinic slanting over Atsumu easily took his breath away, releasing a tingly shock under his skin as he saw the perfect planes of his face.
Despite himself, Shoyo’s body relaxed and sunk into the pillow a tad deeper, realizing that the look of worry was no longer marred Atsumu's face, although he seemed to look concerned as his footsteps stuttered going into the white room, eyes studying Shoyo’s condition.
“Shoyo-kun.” Shoyo noticed how his hair was messier than usual. Like he had been pulling it nonstop. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine. I’m okay, Atsumu-san.” Shoyo was unable to take his eyes off the setter who was drawing closer, but through his peripheral vision, he knew Tsukishima was having the time of his life witnessing all this. “Please don’t worry.”
“I hit you. Of course I’m worried.” The blond remained quiet until he was by Shoyo’s side. “Are you seriously fine? Hajime-kun made sure nothing’s wrong with your head?”
Well, Shoyo initially thought he regained a super power or something when he heard Atsumu's voice, but now that he had confirmed that it was just nothing but his imagination, he could shake off the weird feeling that had been gnawing on his chest.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered, before he awkwardly grabbed a glass of water on his bedside table and drank it, all the while trying to avoid the setter’s gaze. Not an easy task, because he could vividly feel his piercing eyes following him.
At least, he didn’t hear anything now. Thank goodness, it seemed like the whole mind reading ordeal was really just a bogus—
He does look fine. Great. I still could ask him to go on a date with me tomorrow, then.
Shoyo spouted water all over the bed.
The heavy tread of Shoyo’s footsteps were loud and frantic, matching the way his heart thundered in its cage.
Shoyo ignored a sudden jolt of pain in his head from how he got up abruptly from bed, and kept on walking — running, at this point — to where his room in this Olympics training center facility was located. There was no way he would stay there — at the clinic where he left Atsumu behind — after he clearly heard that.
He heard Atsumu’s thoughts. Again!
The sight of the door to his room brought him a huge relief, and Shoyo cranked up his speed, practically swung his door unhinged when he opened and closed it back with too much force. He could only hope the athlete village's manager wouldn’t come to scold him.
With his chest heaving, his whole body shaking, Shoyo trudged toward his bed, before he jerked until his legs gave up on him, making him fall onto the ground. For a moment, fear consumed him, thinking that it was Atsumu who followed him here to his room. But thank fuck.
“Uhm,” Tsukishima, his roommate for the duration of the Olympic training, stepped inside and leaned by the doorframe. “What was that?”
Judging from the way the blocker looked at him with absolute disdain, Shoyo was sure that his face must've shown how hysterical he was. “Tsukishima, help me!”
Tsukishima promised to listen to him, but not after he pushed him away to the other side of the room, and told him to stop pacing around because it's annoying. With everything left of his sanity, Shoyo told him everything. From how he started hearing Atsumu’s voice in his head right after he woke up from his initial black out, to how he clearly heard Atsumu’s thoughts in his head when they spoke in the clinic just now.
By the end of it, the glasses blocker still looked at him like he just told him the stupidest lie he had ever heard. Which Shoyo somehow could sympathize, IF he didn’t just confirm it literally ten minutes ago.
“Okay,” the blond sighed, his expression exasperated. He probably thought that he would only humor him for a little bit when he threw his question halfheartedly. “If you really could read his mind, what did he talk about in his head?”
Across from him, Shoyo sat on his own bed. Knees stuck together, his fists on his lap, and he unknowingly lowered his head, trying to hide his face behind his long fringe as he suddenly felt like his face was burning. “Well,” he bit his lower lip, mumbling. “He said he wanted to ask me out on a date.”
Silence settled between them. No sound, nor body movement from the man sitting across from him. For once, Shoyo’s embarrassment was put aside as he took a peek at his friend.
“Huh,” Tsukishima mused, prompting Shoyo to raise his head.
“What?”
“That seems about right.”
“Yes! Like I said— ” Shoyo paused, then squinted his eyes. “Wait, why did you believe me now?”
Tsukishima didn’t miss a beat answering that. As if the answer was a no-brainer. “Because he’s been in love with you since high school? Everyone and their mother know Miya Atsumu is head over heels with you.”
Shoyo choked on his friend’s blunt revelation, then a loud, boisterous laugh escaped him with a force until he almost fell onto his back and left him out of breath by the time he managed to get a hold of himself. “That’s a funny joke, Tsukishima,” he hiccupped.
Tsukishima was the one who had his eyes squinting now. “With the way you’ll never notice it, and how he’ll never dare to confess to you, the only thing that’ll make you realize that he likes you is if you read his mind. So I believe you.”
Shoyo’s hiccup was louder this time.
Fuck. Me. Fucking kill me already. What the hell, why didn’t Shoyo-kun wear his compression shorts? Is he trying to murder me? Dammit, that juicy thighs are sinful— Wait, is that fucker Suna just trying to take a peek on MY Shoyo-kun? Right in front of me? I’m gonna fucking kill him. I swear to God—
“Oi, Suna! Come here, you dimwit!” Atsumu’s yell from the other side of the gym echoed.
The first thing that Shoyo did upon hearing the voice that involuntarily seeped into his mind was fake coughing, in the hope that his cough would be able to hide the sound of him choking. Second, he turned his body around to hide his gradually flushing face as each word of Atsumu’s thoughts only embarrassed him more and more. Third, he glanced at Tsukishima who was already staring at him like he just spit on his food.
“Wh-what? Why are you looking at me like that?” Shoyo avoided his friend’s gaze.
“Did you do that on purpose?” The scowl turned deeper. "Now that you know Miya-san likes you, you didn't wear your inner shorts to practice, so you can hear his thoughts?"
Shoyo's jaws slacked. Did Tsukishima seriously think that he was that much of a tease? But then… it would be a total lie if he said the mental breakdown he just heard in his head didn’t please him deeply. To think that someone could be affected by his sinful thighs.
His face must've flushed even deeper now, because the look that Tsukishima gave him rivalled the way his friend looked at him back when he intruded on the Shiratorizawa camp all those years ago. “I don’t even want to know the things you heard in your head. I’m outta here,” Tsukishima waved at him, before he got up to jog around the gym on his own.
“Like I want to run with you, bleh!” He stuck his tongue out, pissed at the way Tsukishima once again got to say the last word. As he tied up his shoelaces tightly, Shoyo got up, turning on his heel and grumbling under his breath. "I didn't do it on purpose though. I really did forget to wear it."
“What was that, Shoyo-kun?” A head of pale blond passed him before it slowed down, and out of nowhere, right there, suddenly his setter was beside him now. “What makes your pretty little face scrunched up so early in the morning, hmm?”
His heart nearly stopped. “A-Atsumu-san?” he stuttered, grinning awkwardly, and hoped that the setter wouldn’t notice how his face mirrored the shade of his hair. “Nothing, I’m just hungry,” he lied.
Somehow, without realizing, they were jogging side by side now. The setter was visibly matching their steps.
“Have you not had your breakfast yet?” Atsumu’s brows creased. “That’s not good, Shoyo-kun. And you’ve just gotten better after what happened yesterday, too.”
He does look pretty out of it. No wonder he didn’t wear his inner shorts, he probably forgot. And here I was thirsting over an unwell Shoyo-kun! Should I tell Aran-kun or the coach to pull him out of the practice for a while?
All this time, all these years, Shoyo knew how much Atsumu cared about him. He was one of the nicest people that treated him well during his time in MSBY. Atsumu also never lost contact with him even after he went back to Brazil the second time. And every time they met for International Tournaments as teammates in the National Team, the setter would talk to him like they were never separated to begin with.
So Shoyo knew. He knew damn well how deeply cared Atsumu was to him, but to think that it was to this extent — that he had other feelings for him besides being fond — Shoyo never expected that.
“Ahaha…” Shoyo laughed after desperately trying to hide his blush. “I’m fine, Atsumu-san. You don’t have to tell the coach to pull me out of the— ”
Shoyo immediately clapped his mouth shut. Did he just—
What the hell.
The words echoed in his head. Confused. Panicked. Startled.
Even without peeking through his long bangs to see Atsumu, he could imagine the setter’s blanched face just from the way a long silence stretched between them.
Did I… Did I say it out loud earlier…
No amount of courage was going to unfreeze him — it was already a miracle for both of them to keep jogging while their thoughts were running wild like this — but Shoyo forced himself to make his brain think faster.
“I mean,” Shoyo shouted. “You always tell the coach whenever I'm feeling unwell. Remember our time in MSBY and I was having a mild stomach ache because of an expired milk? And although I was totally fine and only felt a bit uncomfortable, you immediately told Coach Foster about my conditions, and he told me to rest for the rest of the day. But I’m totally fine now, Atsumu-san, I’m just hungry and— ”
He was still babbling words after words of excuse that his tiny brain could come up with in a span of seconds, when Shoyo finally looked at Atsumu, and was hit by his devastatingly handsome face, smiling softly at him.
Again, Shoyo knew that Atsumu was handsome. But was he always this handsome?
Silly Shoyo-kun. I know him the best, of course I’ll notice if he’s sick. Also, if he’s hungry, maybe I can use this as an excuse to ask him to have lunch together later, or better yet — ON A DATE!
Once again, Shoyo had to fake a cough to hide himself choking from the honest thought.
Right. A date. He remembered hearing that yesterday, too.
Shoyo shut his mouth, swallowed, tried to open his mouth, and then shut it again. Wanting to say something, anything. If he could see himself right now, he would see a reflection of a goldfish instead of himself.
Ask him. Come on, ask him out, stupid Tsumu. You’ve been waiting for a chance, and the. chance. is. here. Right in front of you. Are you going to see Shoyo-kun go back to Brazil before you can confess AGAIN? For a hundredth time? And waiting for another chance to meet him in some random international tournament and just repeat the whole cycle? You coward —
Without him realizing, Shoyo already opened his mouth, his words spilled out.
“Atsumu-san, actually— Yeah so, I’ve been thinking— I mean, I’m hungry right now. Really hungry. So I’m thinking, maybe— ” and now it was Shoyo's mouth’s turn to be tripping over words, throwing out barely inaudible fragments before he finally managed, “Wouldyouliketogohavelunchwithmelater.”
Even he himself couldn’t really hear what he said, so the sight of Atsumu staring blankly at him wasn’t surprising.
Before the blond setter tripped.
And fell face first on the blue concrete of the National Team training ground.
Shoyo wasn’t gonna lie. He surprised himself by being able to gather up his nonexistent courage to ask Atsumu to eat with him. It was like just any regular lunch. They had gone out to have lunch together, just two of them, many times before in the time when he was still in MSBY. But now, having lunch while having the ability to hear Atsumu’s thoughts made the experience totally different. In conclusion, Shoyo enjoyed his lunch very much.
He didn’t even know if he liked the setter back. But judging from the way instead of feeling repelled by the genuine feeling of the older man, he felt pleasantly warm, Shoyo guessed he liked Atsumu enough.
He refused to believe it without a fight, though. Because it was impossible to develop feelings for someone so fast… right?
That night, in his room, Shoyo compiled a list of reasons why he couldn’t possibly like Atsumu already. As soon as he was finished, he forced his roommate to read it, only to be given a look as if he was an entire landfill’s worth of trash.
“Isn’t this basically a list of things you adore about him?” Tsukishima asked as he read list number ten (#10 His serve is way too nasty and if that is not the hottest thing someone could ever do), unknowingly destroyed Shoyo’s last bit of wall of denial. It wasn’t that strong to begin with. But now, his denial crumbled like a piece of cookies.
After that, Shoyo angrily got out of his room and decided to go hang out with the team in the communal space. Only to curse himself to even bother to come out, he should’ve just stayed with Tsukishima in their room instead. Because now, he had to be in the same room with the guys, including Atsumu.
Their eyes met. And almost immediately the blond’s thoughts rushed in like a tidal wave.
Shit. It’s Shoyo-kun. Dammit dammit dammit. Be cool. Do NOT embarrass yourself like earlier — God, I can't believe I tripped and fell on my face.
As usual, Shoyo tried to keep himself composed, before he realized that he was being smacked on the head.
“Why are you standing here? Let’s sit together, Hinata.” Yaku grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to sit with them.
Shoyo kept his head low, slouching as to make his body smaller to not attract any attention to him, especially Atsumu's. But then Tsukishima came into the room, and that asshole friend of his smiled like he just got a jackpot.
"Yaku-san," Tsukishima took a seat in the corner, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. "You know the horoscope reading that you showed us this afternoon?"
"Oh, do you finally want to find out about yours, Tsukki?"
"No, but I think Hinata wants to know."
"I see, so our Ninja Shoyo is interested in horoscopes, too, huh? You should've told me, Hinata. This magazine's horoscope prediction is the most accurate. Lev never failed to send me one every month." Yaku squeezed himself sitting beside him, an unfamiliar magazine on his lap, and the libero opened the pages in a too excited way. “Let’s see… What’s your zodiac again?”
Shoyo squirmed, looking around, and realized that his teammates weirdly got all their attention on him.
Cancer, obviously. How can you not know?
Shoyo bit his lip, holding himself back from snapping his head to turn toward Atsumu, desperately wanting to see the expression adorning the setter's face. He might be stupid, but he wasn’t as stupid as to repeat his mistake to make Atsumu suspicious that he could hear his thoughts.
So the shortest spiker of the Japan National Team absent-mindedly answered the libero’s question. “Cancer,” his voice cracked a little bit.
“Cancer… Cancer… Here you go.” Yaku grinned as he spotted the section that he was looking for. “Your monthly horoscope this week said that you’re having a positive month. Your money...hmm boring. Health, boring. Friendship, boring. Lov--Oh, LOVE! This is what I want to know.”
“Uhm, Yaku-san…” Shoyo tried to tug on the older man’s sleeve, because nope, anything but this. Anything but love predictions. Shoyo glanced at his teammates, hoping that at least one of them would help him to stop the libero. But Tsukishima had the biggest grin on his face, Bokuto had his eyes sparkling with curiosity, even Sakusa and Kageyama looked mildly interested.
But then, it took him a few seconds to realize that they didn’t have their eyes solely on him. It happened in a split second, and if Shoyo wasn’t really paying attention, he would totally miss it. But he wasn’t wrong. His teammates, all of them, were looking back and forth between him and Atsumu.
Everyone and their mother know Miya Atsumu is head over heels with you. Tsukishima’s words instantly flooded back.
The realization that his friend wasn't lying made him almost bolt out of the room. Knowing that Atsumu liked him was one thing, but the fact that everyone knew about it but him? Maybe he should just pack up his things and get back to Brazil, after all.
Shoyo was in the middle of an intense mental breakdown, when Yaku’s voice started to register into his ears again.
“... massive luck this month. You will realize that someone has been watching you from a far all this time. As you begin to open your heart to them, you will notice how natural it is to be with them, for your heart has been theirs since the beginning.”
As Shoyo let the words sink in, he had to force himself to take a breath. His lungs were a moment away from bursting from the lack of oxygen as he finally managed to gather the remaining of his dignity, and braced himself to look up, and saw how his teammates weren’t even trying to hide it now.
They were blatantly looking at him and Atsumu back and forth, their eyes practically brimming with amusement. And only then did Shoyo turn to look at the blond setter, and almost left him breathless once again.
Atsumu’s face was red, rivalling the color of their National Team casual shirt he was wearing at the moment. Whatever words of rebuttal that had been on the tip of his tongue (“No, this must be wrong. This prediction is false.”) had vanished as he saw how Atsumu slowly looked back at him.
All Shoyo knew, the way Atsumu looked at him made him dizzy, that he missed the way his mind was empty of Atsumu's thoughts.
The expanse of Atsumu’s mind was scarily honest. That was the only thing that Shoyo could come up with to describe how it felt to be in the setter’s headspace. If he had to compare it to something, he might say that it resembled a volleyball court. It was loud and dazzling. It was where joy, hunger, frustration, and love were at.
If Shoyo previously dreaded the way he could read the mind of the brilliant setter, now, being able to have his mind occupied by Atsumu, literally and figuratively, had become the highlight of his day.
The strange thing was, after the night in the communal room, sometimes he couldn't hear Atsumu's thoughts at all.
Now, Shoyo was not a provocation master. That was the job of his blocker friend, Tsukishima. But weirdly, he had been acting like one these past few days, just to be able to hear Atsumu's reaction to his provocations. He was successful most of the time, but on a number of occasions, he couldn't.
One time during practice, he intentionally did the warm-up right beside Atsumu, hoping to catch some of his inner reaction. While the spiker could easily notice the setter’s blush and heard the noise of a half-dying cat he let out every time Shoyo even slightly stretched out, he never truly heard anything.
Yet, Atsumu’s voice would still come into his head when he at least expected it—when he didn’t intentionally provoke it. Fleeting thoughts, random thoughts, sometimes about volleyball, sometimes about their teammates, sometimes about food and the relation of it with his twin, and sometimes it was about Shoyo.
Shoyo enjoyed it all the same. It just felt… nice to be inside Atsumu’s head.
He conveyed his confusion to Tsukishima one day, and the only response he got was, "Maybe because you've started liking him back now."
Shoyo gasped. "I do not like him," fumbling through his words. "Not romantically."
"Sure, you don't."
Yeah, he lied. Because he definitely had started to like Atsumu now. So much it was insane. But Tsukishima didn't have to know that.
And while he should feel relieved that he couldn’t always hear them, the unpredictability of this ability put him on edge. It was frustrating that every so often, the voice would come out and sometimes it wouldn’t.
It marked the second week of Shoyo having this “power”, and it started to take a toll on him, especially on his reputation.
The other day, the National Team was being interviewed by some sports magazines about their preparations for the upcoming Olympics. Everything went by smoothly as the team answered the questions one by one. Some required smart and careful answers, while other questions could be just answered with the default or template responses. That was until the question had turned into personal territory, and the interviewer started to ask about their dating life — whether they had someone they liked or not. Which was pretty expected, but it still threw Shoyo off when it was his turn to answer and Atsumu’s inner voice reached him.
Can I just go? They wouldn’t be suspicious if I excused myself to the toilet right now, would they? I’d rather die than hear Shoyo-kun’s answer.
With the nerves of everyone’s eyes on him, added to the fact that the last thing in his brain was Atsumu saying that he’d rather die, the answer rolled out of Shoyo’s mouth was—it was safe to say—rather scandalous. “I can’t answer that. Someone would rather die if they hear the answer.”
It was proven scandalous when the entirety of the human beings in the room gasping at his answer, Atsumu’s thoughts of astonished What. the. fuck. invaded his brain, and how the sports news headline the next morning was WHO IS HINATA-SENSHU’S MYSTERIOUS CRUSH?
Not only that his personal love life became the hot talk of the entirety of global volleyball scene (the unfortunate consequence of being an international volleyball superstar, really), but also he slipped in front of Atsumu so many times, and at this point, Shoyo was sure it would be a matter of time before the setter came up to him and ask him point blank about it.
Plus, Shoyo still hadn’t had the answer to his weird ability, as well as about his feelings.
Yet deep down, he knew.
Because right now, Shoyo was in the middle of practice, his breathing haggard, his brain a mess, with the Olympics exactly twelve days away, all he could think of was how poor his play was today and how he didn’t deserve to be here. Yet, time and time again, he could hear Atsumu’s soothing voice in his head and that was what he needed to go on and not cry in front of everyone.
“Ah, Shoyo-kun is having a bad day. I should cheer him up.”
“Does he know that he’s still awesome and scary even when his spikes are sloppy today? He probably didn’t realize that his decoy is what racked up the points for his team.”
“He’s doubting himself again. So silly, my Shoyo-kun is so silly. “
So yes, Shoyo still hadn't had the answer about his feelings. But he knew that he didn't want to only hear these thoughts in his head anymore. He wanted more.
As Shoyo stood in front of Atsumu’s room — his head kept repeating what he was gonna say to the setter while the bile in his throat threatened to come up — he totally understood now why Atsumu never asked him out.
It was hard.
And nerve-wracking.
And Shoyo wasn’t sure if he had taken a breath for the past few minutes, but he probably did, didn’t he? Or else, he’d be dead by now. Or maybe, he should’ve just died—
No, no, no, snap out of it.
Thank goodness it was him that had the mind reading ability, not Atsumu, because his thoughts were way worse and unbelievably embarrassing, and he was certain that the blond would stop liking him, which could NOT happen. Not after Shoyo began to develop feelings for him and he started to like Atsumu back very, very, very much that it made him lose his mind.
So Shoyo took a deep breath, rearranging his thoughts — no more embarrassing stuff — and as he exhaled loudly, he raised his hands and knocked on the door. “Atsumu-san?”
There were muffled voices from inside the room — Aran’s, Shoyo noticed, and then Atsumu’s — before there was a sound of something resembling someone falling from bed and scrambling through the room, until finally, the sight in front of Shoyo was no longer the flat surface of a white door, but it was the National Team’s captain instead.
“Good evening, Hinata-kun,” Aran smiled at him, and before Shoyo even tried to reply to the captain, he was interrupted by the groaning sound coming from behind the taller man.
“Hi, Aran-san, uhm,” Shoyo tilted his head, trying to see inside the room. “Is Atsumu-san okay?”
“He’s fin—”
“I’m fine, Shoyo-kun!” Fuck, it hurts. “Wait a sec!”
When he said a sec, it really just took a second before Atsumu came up behind Aran out of nowhere, his hair disheveled, smiling yet his forehead creased in pain.
Atsumu took a deep breath before he said, “What’s up?”
Aran snorted. Shoyo realized that the older man was visibly trying to hide his laugh. “You know what,” the captain said as soon as he managed to tamp down his grin. “I need to talk to Tsukishima-kun about… something. He’s in your room, right? I hope you don’t mind me visiting your room, Hinata-kun.”
“Ah, I don’t mind,” Shoyo shook his head. He came here to talk to Atsumu, anyway. And he’d rather do it when there was no spectator.
“You must have so many things to talk about with Kei-kun, right, Aran-kun? About blocking and stuff. Take your time.” Atsumu patted the man beside him, and if Shoyo’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he would think that the setter was pushing his captain, but he was probably wrong.
Go. Just go, Aran-kun. I’ll buy you ice cream tomorrow.
Shoyo raised his eyebrows, thinking that this whole thing was a bit suspicious, but unfortunately, his brain was not in the right condition to compute things, so he let Aran go with a smile. All the while realizing that now he was finally alone with Atsumu and had nowhere to run away to.
“Do you want to go inside, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu asked, and Shoyo nodded.
The inside of the room that Atsumu and Aran shared was identical with his and Tsukishima’s. It was a dorm room that they used for a month before the Olympics, after all. So really, Shoyo didn’t have anything to talk about to delay his real talk.
Atsumu let him sit on his bed, “Do you need anything, Shoyo-kun?”
Shaking his head, Shoyo avoided Atsumu’s gaze as much as he could. “No. I just want to talk to you. Did I disturb you, Atsumu-san? You looked like you were doing something earlier.”
“No, I was just… surprised that you came.” Don't let it show that you were too surprised to hear Shoyo-kun knocking on your door until you fell from bed, Tsumu, don't. The setter took a seat beside him, the look in his eyes started to get sharper. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he grinned, but even he knew that the stretch of his lips was way too awkward to be seen as natural and honest.
He’s lying. Is he sick? Does he have any problems? Is he still feeling down after the bad practice earlier?
Hearing the voice in his head, Shoyo immediately got up from the bed. He couldn’t. He just could not stay still when his chest was on fire.
“Shoyo-kun?”
“Wait a minute, Atsumu-san,” he began to pace back and forth in the middle of the room. The crease in his forehead deepened and he couldn’t stop biting his fingers.
Okay, so, how should he start? Asking whether he was free this weekend, or if he wanted to do something? Or maybe he should just ask directly to go on a date with him? No, no, no—
“You really like to pace around, huh?”
Shoyo stopped in his tracks. “Oh, I’m— Yeah…” Then he remembered how Tsukishima said his pacing was bothersome. “Is it annoying?”
“Not at all.” The answer was almost immediate. There was an apparent curve on the setter’s lips almost at the same time his thoughts registered into Shoyo’s mind.
Means that I have to look for a house with big rooms so Shoyo-kun can feel comfortable there.
Shoyo had to lower his head this time. Ah… this person. This was too much. Atsumu was too much. And Shoyo’s head was, for once, cleared from all the confusion and uncertainty.
Because right here, right in front of him, was a boy, a man, that had been by his side for God knew how long. Quietly—or maybe not so quietly—cherishing him, supporting him, loving him, without him really knowing. Shoyo shivered, his eyes stinging when he realized that if it wasn’t for this… stupid ability, he probably would never know Atsumu’s feelings for him. Deep down, he felt upset that Atsumu never told him about it, but then he couldn’t speak for the setter. What rights did he have to ask the reason why Atsumu never asked him out for real.
But it was different now that he could take the matter into his hands. Shoyo could take them to move forward. He wanted to. So bad.
How the hell Atsumu could hide his feelings all these years, he could never understand — while Shoyo, who only had it in a matter of a few weeks, already felt like his heart would explode anytime if he didn't let it all out as soon as possible. Maybe because the setter was a better person, more patient than him, but whatever the reason, Shoyo gritted his teeth and stopped pacing in the middle of the tiny room.
“You okay, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu never once had his eyes peeled away from him. “Let me get you some water, so you can calm—”
“Do you want to go out on a date with me, Atsumu-san?”
This time it was different from the one when he asked the blond to have lunch with him previously. Now, Shoyo made sure that he looked at Atsumu in the eyes. He made sure his voice was clear and his words didn’t stumble one over another. And he made sure that his sentence wouldn’t be able to be interpreted with any other meaning.
His heart threatened to burst out of its cage, and Shoyo almost flinched at his pained chest. But he forced himself to keep his head high, his eyes straight. He wouldn’t waver, because he wanted to give this to Atsumu. Atsumu-san who probably deserved more than me.
Barely breathing, Shoyo bit his lower lip so Atsumu wouldn’t see it quivering, all at the same time he witnessed how Atsumu’s face gradually changed. From stunned, to ecstatic, to realization, to terrified, to denial.
What the fuck. Seriously, what the fuck. Is this real. No way. Shoyo-kun just— He just asked me out on a date? Wait. Why? No one told him about my feelings, right? Nonono. This is probably, like… a friendly date. Yeah, he probably wanted to go out to buy something and needed you to accompany him. Get a hold of yourself, Miya Atsumu. This is not. a. date.
“A date… Like, as friends?” Atsumu trailed off, his eyes started to avoid him as his thoughts were still going haywire that Shoyo had to bite the inner of his cheeks hard so he could stop himself from smiling. But Gods. Atsumu was too cute.
Shaking his head, the smile finally escaped him. Shoyo couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not when his heart bloomed like a thousand flower petals all at once. “Nope,” he said. “It’s a date, date. Like a couple.”
Atsumu totally froze this time.
And then…
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—
To be honest, Shoyo was never someone who was crazy about looks. Appearances, he thought, never really mattered in playing volleyball, and therefore, not important to take note of.
But somehow, staring at the pretty face of Atsumu, his setter, the man who had been waiting for him in the front lobby of their dorm building, adorned in a simple oversized white t-shirt and jeans along with a black cap, managed to make Shoyo almost stumbled on the last step of stairs.
"Atsumu-san! Did you wait long?" He wondered why he sounded breathless already. It wasn’t like he ran here, but he was indeed taking too long to get ready because—for the life of him—he just could not choose what to wear. He came here to practice, for God’s sake. It wasn’t like he expected that he would go on a date a week before he departed for the Olympics.
As Shoyo rushed as if his feet were pulled by the force of a compass needle toward the north pole, he saw in wonder how Atsumu slowly turned toward him, and how his seemingly dim eyes shone brighter.
He came. He didn’t dump me.
Ah, Shoyo thought, he was really stupid, wasn’t he? Late on their first date, a date that he suggested, to someone who liked him and had been hiding it for years.
Shoyo hurried his steps, physically unable to make Atsumu wait even a second longer, and he caught another wave of thought.
Gosh, look at him. So. Fucking. Cute. No way that this guy is real. No man is supposed to be THIS cute.
Stopping right before the setter, as Shoyo looked up at him, once again, he was hit by an overwhelming feeling he couldn't recognize. All he knew was that he wanted to hug Atsumu so much.
"You look good, Atsumu-san," he smiled, and his tongue just rolled out his thoughts. "Like, on a scale of one to ten, you're like, a thirty-two."
It was palpable that Atsumu was stunned by the sudden compliment, before he let out an amused laugh. “Thank you, Shoyo-kun.”
I tried really hard, actually.
Shoyo heard that, but the Atsumu in front of him just grinned with a faint blush on his cheeks, and Shoyo was sure that it wasn’t from the early July heat. But the little thought managed to make him squeeze his t-shirt, hoping that he at least looked decent beside his handsome setter, because he tried really hard, too!
“Should we go now, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu’s smile was the combination of excitement and reserve, as he carefully turned around, looking back to make sure if Shoyo followed him behind.
Which was stupid, because Shoyo felt like he would follow Atsumu anywhere.
Their first destination was Atsumu’s choice. He demanded that he wanted to experience the cliché first dates, and so, of course Shoyo obliged.
“What do you want to watch, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu asked as they stood in front of the movie board. Both had their fists on their chins, thinking rather seriously of what to watch, because excuse us, this was important. They only had one free day where they were allowed to go out, and they didn’t want to let it go to waste by watching some B-rated romance chick-flick just because this was a date.
“I say we’re watching this one,” Shoyo pointed at the cover of some slasher movie. From the look of it, it was about a little village that got a few of its people missing.
Atsumu hummed, but it would be an absolute lie if Shoyo said he didn’t see the way he flinched earlier. “That’s… fine. But what about this one, Shoyo-kun?” he pointed to the poster of a comedy movie.
Please say yes. Please please please. I knew Shoyo-kun like that kind of movies, but if I have to see that much blood on a fucking theater, I’m gonna pass out —
The snickers he had been holding in bursted out involuntarily, and Atsumu’s head snapped at him. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” Realization dawned on him. “So cruel, Shoyo-kun. I thought you said I’m a solid thirty-two on a scale of one to ten.”
“What does that have to do with this?" Shoyo had to wipe the tears in his eyes. "Anyway, let’s watch what you want to watch, Atsumu-san. I wouldn’t want our date to be ruined because you can’t hold your guts in.”
“You…” All of a sudden, Atsumu’s hand was already on the crown of his head. The hair that Shoyo had desperately styled before their date was ruffled by the rough hand of the setter. “You really thought you could mess with me just ‘cause you’re my favorite, huh? And stop saying this is a date. My heart would stop anytime soon.”
Shoyo grinned. “But this is a date.”
“Alright, smartass. Now you’re really just having fun.”
Was it always this fun with Atsumu? Shoyo’s cheeks literally hurt from how he couldn’t stop smiling.
It was way past their lunchtime by the time they finished the movie and arrived at the nearest food market by the bay, and the way Shoyo’s eyes sparkled by the sight of the endless seafood shops in front of him rivalled the time when he managed to find a Japanese restaurant in Brazil.
“Ahhhh… uwah…Tuna… Salmon… Atsumu-san, ah… sushi…”
The incoherent sounds he produced were basically begging for Atsumu to laugh at him. “How can you’ve been back for almost a month already and you haven’t had decent sushi, Shoyo-kun? I would’ve died if I were you.”
“I’m practically dying right here, Atsumu-san,” he said after practically sucking back his own saliva. “You’re really not mad that I brought you here for our date, right?”
“Please, I would’ve been fine even if you bring me to a Seven-Eleven date,” he winked at him.
Gasping at the obvious joke (or was it not?), Shoyo pouted. “I wasn’t that shameless, okay? I just didn’t have the time to go out after we arrived here, and the food at the dorm wasn’t the greatest either.”
Atsumu peered back at him before breaking into a half-smile, his eyelashes fluttering, and the softness of his stare did a remarkable job of making Shoyo’s mind turn blank.
“Alright, let’s just give you your well-deserved dose of Japanese food.”
By the time they finished eating anything that basically triggered their saliva glands (and that was pretty much everything: seafood, mochi, taiyaki, everything), their clothes and hair already smelled a lot like fish and saltwater. It was then they decided that they should stop, and Atsumu had to literally drag his spiker out of the market toward the quiet side of the bay.
They stood side by side by the railing, and listened to the sound of the sea water hitting the rocks below them.
It didn’t take that long until the sky gradually changed to become the color of Shoyo's favorite kind of marshmallow, the combination of the soft orange and light pink hinting that the sun would like to hide soon, swallowed by the sea.
"I don't want to go home," Shoyo whispered.
But Atsumu still heard it. "You still want to eat? The shops are starting to close, though."
Heat rose on both of his cheeks. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm good, Atsumu-san. Besides, I'm not that much of a glutton.”
He said the last sentence with a small voice because he realized that Atsumu knew it wasn't true. That was proven when Atsumu raised his brows on him as if he was saying really now. It only made him embarrassed even more, but the points still stood. That was not what he meant.
"I don't want to part with you just yet," Shoyo breathed out, his sentence trailing off in the end.
The closer it was to the nighttime, the warm summer air started to get cooler and muggy. Yet when Shoyo braved himself to reach his arm out, and let the tips of his fingers graze Atsumu's, playing with them a little for a split second before he grabbed them, clutching to them like it was the only way for him to keep breathing — the heat rose within him from all possible directions.
A shuddering breath. But it wasn't Shoyo's. And thoughts — also weren't his — invaded his mind, and Shoyo actually didn't expect it this time. For a moment, he completely forgot about his weird ability.
Look at him acting all adorable. He totally knows how weak I am when he's like this, isn't he? Like, what am I supposed to do when he clutches my fingers like this, seriously.
Shoyo saw the way Atsumu looked at him, and felt like his inside was squeezed and turned.
He knew this look. Noticed it multiple times directed at him. But why, just why did he never realize that this was special, that it was only ever directed at him. That Atsumu’s fondness would spill so selflessly for him to see.
If it wasn't for his mind-reading curse slash blessing, would he ever know Atsumu's feelings?
Suddenly feeling frustrated, both toward his obliviousness and Atsumu's uncertainty, Shoyo stepped forward, leaving practically no space in between, just enough for him to still be able to see the taller man. His mind was blank except for the only thing he'd been desperately wanting to know all this time.
“Why did you never confess to me, Atsumu-san?”
Atsumu blinked vacantly at him as the wind coming from the sea breezed through his hair that turned golden reflecting the sunset, before slowly, so, so, slowly, his eyes turned wide, like a deer caught in headlights.
“What?” Atsumu sounded like he had an entire boulder in his throat.
“I’m saying…” Biting his lips, Shoyo's grip tightened on Atsumu’s fingers. “Why did you never confess to me all this time?”
Shoyo said it too loud, he knew, and he noticed some people turned their heads on them. And it wasn’t even a split second later when Atsumu grabbed Shoyo’s hand, and it was shown with the way his eyebrows creased and the tight hold on his hand, that Atsumu was either embarrassed or mad. And Shoyo didn’t know what he would do if it was the latter.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Atsumu’s quiet voice carried by the wind, and Shoyo could only follow him behind.
The market was close to a small amusement park by the bay, and the ferris wheel was on sight. Panic started to kick. As if his question earlier wasn't embarrassing enough — and the fact that Atsumu looked pissed right now — being in a small, closed space with his setter alone would be too awkward.
"A-Atsumu-san…" he pleaded. "I changed my mind. Let's just go home."
No answer. The only response Atsumu gave him was the tight squeeze on his hand. An indirect be quiet and follow me.
Feeling hopeless, Shoyo tried to listen to Atsumu's mind, and almost cried when he heard nothing. Of all time this stupid ability could be really useful, it just had to be dysfunctional now.
"Atsumu-san…" he tried again, but to no avail.
They arrived at the ferris wheel, and just Shoyo's luck, no queue and an empty car was already waiting for them. Atsumu wasted no time to pull him inside it, not even greeting the worker who opened the door for them, and told them with a cheery voice, "You get three turns, enjoy the ride!"
The sound of the door being closed sounded like a judge’s gavel being hit in the courtroom in Shoyo’s ears, and he couldn’t help but shudder. Well, he indeed felt like a convict who just got his sentence, and the ferris wheel car was his prison. Now, he had nowhere else to go. Trapped inside it with the man who since earlier hadn’t uttered even a single sound.
With the sky starting to get darker, and Atsumu’s chin practically stuck to his chest, his head low, even though the setter was sitting just half a meter away from him, Shoyo still couldn’t see his expression.
Rather than a prison, he was like a fish being trapped in a fishing net. Because now it also began to get harder to breathe.
"Was I wrong?" Shoyo whispered, as he noticed that the ferris wheel moved slowly. Their car was halfway to the top. “Do you not like me?”
Noticing that his voice slightly trembled, Atsumu finally looked up at him. And only now that Shoyo saw the fear in his eyes. “Just give a minute, Shoyo-kun.”
“Did I hear it wrong?”
Atsumu stopped at that. The fear in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion. “Heard? Did someone tell you that I like you?”
Shoyo hadn’t heard Atsumu’s thoughts since he dropped the bomb earlier, but now, it was like a dam surrounding the blond’s brain had broken.
This can’t be happening. Someone sold me out?! But, I never told anyone about my feelings, though? No way that Samu told him, right? They ain’t even that close — Or are they? No, this is not important right now. What should I do NOW? Shoyo-kun looks so disappointed that I’ve been keeping quiet, did he — Is he sad because he thought I don’t like him? Fuck, what should I say now? Think, Tsumu, think —
“So you do like me,” Shoyo uttered, a bit too excited. His heart bloomed once more. “You do like me, unless all of this is just my imagination.”
“I do like you— But wait, what do you mean, Shoyo-kun? What imagination?”
The ferris wheel had come to a stop, right at the top. And even in Shoyo’s ears, the next set of words that came out of his mouth sounded too loud and clear, like thunder. “I heard it in my mind. Your thoughts.”
Silence. Not only the attraction they were on that froze, but Atsumu also seemed unable to move even a single eyelash. “What?”
Shoyo took a deep breath. He knew this was a lot to take in. Sounded a lot like a lie. Unimaginable. Laughable. But it was the truth. “I’ve been hearing your thoughts in my head about how much you like me.”
Another silence. Longer this time. Shoyo even thought that he saw the sky change color into darker shade.
“Is this a prank?” Atsumu's expression was still dumbfounded. “Are you— Is there a hidden camera here?”
“I wasn’t kidding!” The reaction was understandable, but Shoyo was still frustrated nonetheless. “I really, really can hear your mind, Atsumu-san.”
This guy... really thought just because I like him to death he could prank me like this —
“I need to stop you right there, Atsumu-san. I wasn’t pranking you at all.” What to do? How to make Atsumu believe him— “You can test me if you want.”
Atsumu shook his head as he stopped for a while to look outside, visibly contemplating the situation, like believing this was the last thing he wanted, yet not believing Shoyo was also the last thing he wanted to do, before he looked back at him, and sighed. “Alright, what am I thinking right now?”
I actually already made a reservation in a restaurant for lunch but Shoyo-kun was too excited to go to the food market so I didn’t say anything.
“You made a restaurant reservation for lunch?” Shoyo raised his voice, genuinely flabbergasted. “Atsumu-san, why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t ask to go to the market if I knew.”
The ferris wheel moved again until their car swung a bit, and Atsumu’s voice shook as he breathed out. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. You should’ve told me if you already reserv—”
“No, I mean…” An expression Shoyo might describe as astounded descend on the setter’s face. “You seriously can hear my thoughts?”
Shoyo’s mouth formed an O. Ah, so that was what Atsumu meant. “That’s what I said.”
“Since when?”
Tilting his head to the side, Shoyo hummed. “Since you hit me with your jump serve a few weeks ago.”
“What?!” The setter was almost up from his seat. “No, wait— We shouldn’t be here. We should get you to the hospital right now. Hadn't Iwa-kun examined you already?”
“He did. Atsumu-san, I’m okay, though.”
Did I really hit him THAT hard? I mean, he did black out that time, but… So many people have been hit in the head by my serve, but none of them can hear my thoughts. Could it be there’s some compilations— ”
Shoyo snorted. “You mean complications, Atsumu-san.”
Atsumu froze again, then sighed. “Stop reading my thoughts for a second, Shoyo-kun. Can’t you see I’m really concerned about you right now?”
It was almost impossible to stop his smile from spreading so wide that it hurt his cheekbones. Shoyo really was blessed to have someone as amazing as Atsumu loving him, wasn’t he?
“I can’t control it,” Shoyo explained. “I don’t understand it either, but sometimes I can hear you and sometimes I can't.”
Well, good. I hope he didn’t hear my mind when I was thirsting over him.
Shoyo grimaced at that, and Atsumu immediately noticed. The blond visibly paled as he put his face on his palms. “Ah, great. You heard them, didn’t you?”
Affection sprouted within him. Suddenly, Shoyo was overwhelmed by the urge to just… touch him. So he leaned forward, wanting to close the gap between them. But only so much distance he could close that he ended up only sneaking his fingers into Atsumu’s, repeating the act that he did down there by the bay, linking their fingers loosely.
“It really flattered me, though, Atsumu-san,” he said softly, and he heard Atsumu taking a sharp breath. Their linked fingers were tightened by Atsumu. That gave Shoyo the boost of confidence he needed to ask his earlier question. “So what’s the answer?”
“To what?”
“To my question. Why did you never confess to me? Why did you never ask me out?”
Because what if you didn’t like me back? What if our relationship changed after I confessed? What if you avoided me?
“I was just gathering my confidence,” Atsumu answered.
“For so long?”
“For twelve years, what about it?”
Shoyo's eyes widened at that. He had expected the older man had liked him for years, since his kindness started when he joined MSBY. But did it really start in high school just like Tsukishima said?
“You probably already heard it in your head a lot, Shoyo-kun — I’m a coward. A huge one, when it comes to you.” Atsumu bit his lip, his eyes wavering. “Don’t get me wrong. I will confess to you… eventually. Because no way I’ll let any other person have you. I have the absolute confidence that I could cherish you. That I could make you happy more than anyone. I just need the courage to tell you that.”
Atsumu concluded that with an awkward touch to his bangs, as if he wanted to pull them down to hide the fiery red on his cheeks. But Shoyo saw it all, savoring it, as his heart did a complete somersault, over and over and over until…
“I'm gonna be honest with you," Shoyo started. "Having your feelings being shoved right into my head caught me off guard. But, you see, I’m an idiot, too. It would probably take me years to realize your feelings although it has been right in front of me all this time. So I just— Thank you for loving me. Thank you for always cherishing and supporting me out of your selfless love, and I— ” Shoyo choked, suddenly it was too difficult to even breathe. His eyes stung, his throat hurt. “Please don’t let me hear your feelings just through your thoughts, is what I want to say. Because I’ll be here. Giving back all the love. I’ll work really hard to cherish and make you happy, too, Atsumu-san.”
At this point, Shoyo had passed the point of trying to keep his emotions in. Tears had been pooling in his eyes, but he completely lost it when he saw the tears run down Atsumu cheeks. Shoyo let out a laugh, wet and hoarse, as he got up this time, and kneeled in front of the crouching setter. The car wobbled ever-so-slightly as he did it.
“Atsumu-san,” Shoyo said, craning his head up to put his forehead on Atsumu’s, rubbing his nose on him while he was at it. “Will you do the honor, or should I just say it?”
Something dangerously close to the sound of a combination between a sob and a laugh came out from Atsumu's mouth. The setter sniffled. At least, now he was crying and smiling. “Please, Shoyo-kun, you already asked me out on a date. Your confession is more poetic than mine. At least let me say it.”
The smile on Shoyo’s face was the epitome of sunshine personified. “I’m waiting.”
Shoyo waited. And watched. The way Atsumu’s eyes dance all around staring at his face, savoring the close proximity between the two of them that Shoyo took the initiative to narrow, figuratively and literally, before finally the tear-filled walnut eyes focused on Shoyo’s. Laced with confidence, disbelief, adoration, and love all at the same time.
God, I love him so much.
Shoyo heard the thought first, before finally losing his breath altogether when Atsumu purred the sentence at him.
“Be my boyfriend, Shoyo-kun.”
Shoyo swore that his entire skin jumped at the voice, not to mention the way Atsumu said it. He was the one who egged him on to say it, but he was totally stumbling around now.
Half of Shoyo’s brain was screaming in delight, and the other half was trying so hard to keep his cool. In the end, what he did was a weird blend of smile and gasp. “Yes,” he rasped. “Let’s be boyfriends.”
What an uncool answer. Like he could produce any coherent answer right now.
“I’m thinking of kissing you right now, Shoyo-kun.” It took a second for Shoyo to realize that Atsumu had been running his fingers through his sunset-colored hair, playing with it gently as if he was afraid it would crumble on his fingers. “I’m done hiding my thoughts in my head.”
Shoyo grinned impishly at him this time, then slowly rose from his knees because he started to feel numb down there. Reveling over the way Atsumu slipped his arms around his waist, Shoyo took the cue to sit on his lap, his legs on either side of Atsumu’s, making their car tilted on one side.
“God,” Atsumu licked his lips, his voice low. “Fuck, this must be a dream, isn’t it?”
“Even if this is a dream, as soon as we wake up, I’ll knock on your door so I can make this truly happen, Atsumu-san.”
Shoyo put his hands on the older’s firm shoulders, leaning down until their face closed and his unruly bangs fell over Atsumu's forehead. Unconsciously, he waited to hear some thoughts seep into his mind, but he heard nothing. Instead, he heard it loud and clear with his ears.
“You’re so beautiful,” Atsumu whispered, looking at him like he was gazing at something ethereal, the light of sunset reflected in his eyes.
Before he knew it, Atsumu pulled his head down gently, and pressed a kiss to his mouth. The man under him, holding him tightly by the waist and head, kissed him slowly at first, until he started to deepen the kiss with the thirst of a man who got lost in a desert without water for days. Yet it was steady, unwavering, his tongue only teased him a little at the seam of his teeth, making Shoyo crazed, clutching onto the setter neck and shoulder, before he involuntarily opened his mouth.
For a moment, Shoyo hesitated, but in the end, he dared himself to arch his back, pressing their body together. The world had faded away until all Shoyo knew was Atsumu. His scent, his taste, his skin, his breath. Atsumu was only kissing him, but it felt a lot like Atsumu was drinking him in.
“Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu groaned. As if he couldn’t handle this. Like it took his entire strength to pull away. His lips were still ghosting over Shoyo's as he panted. “Please tell me you can’t hear my thoughts right now because I’m going insane.”
Shoyo had been hearing nothing. But if the way Atsumu’s eyes were hung low and his bright red cheeks and kiss-bitten lips were any indication that he indeed had made Atsumu gone insane, then he didn’t need to hear his boyfriend’s thoughts at all.
God.
Boyfriend.
Miya Atsumu was his boyfriend.
“I heard nothing,” Shoyo could barely speak, still trying to regain his normal way of breathing. “The last time I heard you was…” The God, I love him so much before Atsumu asked him out. “Five minutes ago.”
Atsumu pulled away for a bit, slowly recovering from the kiss. “Not that I’m unhappy, but that’s weird. My mind had been going haywire since you climbed onto my lap.”
It was indeed weird. But it had come and gone since the start. Shoyo didn’t have complete control over it. If the ability truly had gone for good, his only explanation for it was probably because their feelings were reciprocated now… or maybe because Atsumu said he was done hiding his feelings just in his head… or maybe because they kissed, as cheesy as it sounded. But then again, this whole ability was unexplainable since the start, anyway.
Whatever it was, Shoyo would never regret ever having the sudden gift that got him to realize how much he was so loved by the most wonderful person in the whole universe (the most handsome too, like, thirty-seven on a scale of one to ten. Yes, it rose now that they were boyfriends).
Maybe it wasn’t love for now. Maybe Shoyo still couldn’t match Atsumu’s twelve years of buried love for him. But love would come at him fast after a few kisses shared between them, after a few soft touches of hands, after a few jump-spin hugs everytime they scored together, after a few back and forth journey between Brazil and Japan, and after Shoyo realized that he wanted to stay in Japan for good because he couldn’t stay away any longer from Atsumu. Or maybe, it was, in fact, way before any of that.
But that was for later for Shoyo to think of. For now, as Shoyo was unable to hear Atsumu’s thoughts any longer at the top of the ferris wheel, the sky was no longer the shade of pink and orange, but a dark of deep blue ocean, he cupped Atsumu’s face.
“Want to kiss again?” he asked.
Atsumu stared, then grinned. “Absolutely.”
(Later when they finally got out of the ferris wheel, hands locked to each other as they couldn’t stop swinging their arms back and forth while walking by the side of the bay, going back to the athlete village a few blocks away, Atsumu fired Shoyo a question.
“Am I the only one that you can hear?”
“Yes.”
“How come?”
“I’ve been wondering about that, too.”
“Maybe because I was the one who hit you. Or maybe because I just like you that much. Either way, good. Because if you could hear the others’ thoughts, you would hear about how they like you, too. And then you’ll like them back.”
“I wouldn’t like someone back just because I knew they liked me. It's the way you make my heart feel, Atsumu-san. Also, I don’t think anyone else likes me other than you.”
“Oh, you’ll be surprised by the amount of people who likes you, Shoyo-kun. I might not have a mind-reading ability, but I know.”
“Hmm, but I doubt that they would think about my juicy thighs in their head in the middle of practice just because I didn’t wear inner shor—”
“Shoyo-kun!”
"I'm kidding. Besides, Atsumu-san is too blinding, I can't see anyone else.")