endings.

|| osamu miya. the conclusion is yet to be written, so fight.
|| gender neutral! reader
|| 2583 words, angst, second person

--

there were moments, short pockets of time, where everything made you feel like it was just yesterday. maybe it's the resemblance of the seasons, how those particular string of happenstances occured in a day as cold as this one. the end of autumn, days slowly transitioning to embrace the frigid kisses of winter. the final dredges of stubborn red, brown and orange leaves that refused to part from bleak branches finally falling to their doom.

you could close your eyes and slowly, your thoughts wandered, sojourning into the rooms that made up your labyrinthine mind. you found a particular door and opened and the red and white spires of your university building faded. instead of a wooden bench, you're sitting on your kitchen stool, phone placed on top of the table.

"so..." osamu's voice filtered out from the phone speakers, a tiny hint of hoarseness in his voice as if he'd just woken from his sleep. "why'd 'ya call?"

"i was planning to text you so it wouldn't be much of a nuisance, but my fingers are totally incapacitated right now..."

"what?"

"i may or may not have injured my dominant hand..." a chuckle escaped your lips and you heard a sigh from the other the line. you could feel the uneasiness from him. he's probably awaiting explanations as to your current condition. "i figured i should inform you since i won't be able to go get okonomiyaki with you..."

it's also strange. how things that used to not mean much were now vivid for display. things that you've taken for granted that when you look at now, should have been treasured. cherished. catalysts for bottled regrets and hopes for the unchangeable past.

he replied with, "it's fine..."

"oh. enjoy the food 'samu."

"dummy... i'm gonna' wait until you're healed."

would it make much of a difference if you listed all the things that you failed to notice? you doubted it. yet that feeling of hopelessness could only be alleviated when you did something, anything, so you remembered those moments, tried to take notes as to what things you failed to perceive. things that should have unravelled your feelings long before the inevitable collision with pain.

(things you didn't notice: one, the way osamu always made you a priority.)

"osamu..." you began, joyful tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. "have i ever told you that you're an angel?"

"not really," he replied in that same osamu way of his although you could sense the amusement in his tone.

before you could burst into another tirade of apologies, you heard muffled voices from other side of the phone. you may have been imagining it, but you could hear a spew of curses in atsumu's voice and thick accent.

"is everything okay?"

"yeah, 's fine." he paused, more cursing and a brief banshee-like scream followed. "just the monster under my bed."

eyes widened, and in a shriek, "the what?!"

"forget it," he told you dismissively. "i'm hanging up. go and get some rest."

"will do," you replied, a smile on your face. "thanks for the concern."

you stared at the screen of your phone, hearing another scream in the process, "did 'ya jus' call me a monster, 'samu?" before the awaited beeps came, denoting the end of the call.

the next day, your situation didn't improve at all. you're lying on your bed, staring at the scenery outside to take your mind off of the pricking ache present in your fingers. autumn leaves perched on your windowsill and chilly air that passed the half open windows startling and moving them into your room.

a familiar tune rang across the space, interrupting your stupor. your ringtone, you realized and reached for your phone to answer it.

"good morning 'samu," you greeted. he replied with a plain old "morning," before moving to a piece of information that almost made you fall off your chair.

"atsumu's gonna come over..."

"he's going to what?! where?!"

you could imagine osamu rolling his eyes in disinterest. that jerk. it felt like he's setting you up. he was aware about your feelings for his inferior twin, as he would put it. you know, we look alike right? it feels creepy that you're crushing on someone who looks like me. you would look at him pointedly during those conversations. it's not. you're different. you're my 'samu and atsumu-san is atsumu-san. he'd pout and ask why the hell did 'ya put -san after his name? that 'tsumu's not the least bit respectable.

"didn't 'ya hear me the first time? 'tsumu's gonna come over to yer house. i told him to since i'm worried about yer condition. i don't want 'ya dying or anythin'."

(things you didn't notice: two, the sentiments that hid behind osamu's concern.)

"but why him?" you're almost shrieking at the top of your lungs. people wouldn't really call you a loud personage, but there's always that singular moment when you're conversing with your bestfriend that was bound to break glass. "he's not my bestfriend. you should be the one coming over!"

"it's not like 'ya won't enjoy him coming over," he replied. it's the truth, but still... your heart was pounding so hard. a cacophony of disturbing noises in your chest. that damn 'samu. you haven't even taken a bath! "spare me the affronted act. i bet yer throwing parties in that head of yers."

"am not."

"whatever."

you glared at the phone screen even though you're aware of the fact that he wouldn't see it. "don't whatever me, i haven't even taken a bath yet."

"please, 'ya look like 'ya haven't taken a bath every day. this isn't much of a difference."

"osamu!"

the doorbell interrupted whatever spew of curses you were about to bestow upon your closest confidante. eyes wide, voice shaky. "is that him on my front door?"

"probably," came osamus's monotonous response. "he left more than thirty minutes ago."

"you fucking pisshead!"

you heard him chuckling from the other side of the phone. "that's my twin dumbass."

"you—"

"get well soon."

the call was over. your friendship with osamu, you thought, is going to be over too. mumbling some curses for him beneath your breath, you headed to the doorway and opened the door.

he's here. actually here. maybe you're going to faint. you've been so used to his school or volleyball uniform that you didn't anticipate seeing him in casual clothes.

"atsumu-san," you said in lieu of a greeting. if osamu were here, he'd be snickering at how amazing you were at pretending calm. you widened the space in the door. "your brother said you'd be coming over. please come in."

"sorry for the intrusion..." he said as he entered. he looked around the space for a while and you hoped that you didn't have anything incriminating out in the open. he looked at you. did he think that you were stinky? you forgot to check. but instead of telling you that you smelled like shit, he raised his hand carrying a cellophane filled with ripe oranges. "i brought some things you might enjoy."

"oh," you said. "thanks. i'll bring it to the dining table, i mean, i would if i could, but my hand's in a rough state right now so could you please..."

"yeah, sure," he said. "'samu's the one who told me to buy all these things. he says they're yer favorites."

"that's really nice of him..."

he chuckled. "yeah, he's been mumblin' about it since last night. i don't know why he didn't jus' bring it himself."

you smiled. sounds like osamu. he's always acting so indifferent, but in truth, he was like a paragon of a fussing mother. that time you broke your ankle while practicing for a cheerdance because you wanted to join the cheer club so you'd be front row for all the volleyball club's matches, it was osamu who carried you piggyback and brought you painkillers and cold compresses.

look at you breaking your ankle for my shitty twin, he told you as he put pressure on the cold compress in your ankle. you winced from the pain. it's not just for him, you insisted. it's for you too, you know? i wanted to cheer you on too. you remembered him looking up, a childlike expression plastered on his face, really? and you answered with a vigorous nod. of course, i love you as much as i love atsumu-san!

but in different ways? he had asked after. you had answered with that cheerful smile on your face. by god you didn't even hesitate back then; yeah, 'samu, you're like my bestest friend and atsumu-san is well... he's the one i love.

(things you didn't notice: three, the flash of sorrow on his face when you raised his hopes up only for you to shoot it down next.)

atsumu gave you an orange slice. you accepted. he was nice enough to peel it for you and you felt like your guts were being rearranged because of that tiny gesture.

"no problem. yer hand's hurt and all," atsumu said after you offered your gratitude. "if yer healed, i bet you'd do it in a cleaner way."

you wouldn't. even when your hand's not broken, you'd pester osamu to peel tangerines for you. it didn't take long for him to surrender and you being thickfaced wouldn't hesitate to ask him to hand feed it to you. sometimes he wouldn't remove seeds out of irritation and you'd fight. other times, osamu would select the sourest ones and laugh at your puckered lips and furrowed brows.

"yeah," was the only thing you could say.

it's awkward. when you had your daydreams about being alone with atsumu, you thought you'd fill the silence with excited chatter and questions you've wanted to ask him ever since you fell for him during the first year of high school. you didn't expect it to be pure volleyball talk. you knew the rules, you knew a lot of things, but he took command of the whole conversation and all you could input were yeahs, i sees, and the occasional ohs.

the early butterflies fluttering in your stomach vanished. so this is what it feels like to be disillusioned...

get it together, you wanted to tell yourself. isn't this what you want? you could remember the cherry blossom petals fluttering in the air, a wonderful sight to behold yet your attention was entirely on another thing. a stray cat, with small brown spots on its white fur. stuck on a tree. you tried to jump and reach it, but your attempts were met with failure. again and again until there's someone else. a tall boy, with his black hair, managing to get the cat off of the tree in one go. oh. your heart was pounding in your chest. is this cat yers? he had asked. you told him it was a stray and he let it down on the ground and smiled, i see. there, the pounding. again.

but it's been years and... that pounding had vanished. you tried to cling to it. to the recesses of that spring day, to the rose colored view of the particular happenstances that occured but there's really nothing noteworthy after that. you did your best to get him to notice you, but for one, his attention was on something else and another, you were intimidated. you'd met his twin and that was the only link to the boy you fell in love at first sight.

your phone rang. you used it to excuse yourself and head to your bedroom.

osamu spoke first. his voice gave you comfort. if he was here, maybe things would be less awkward, maybe things would be more manageable. "is atsumu there?"

"yeah..." you pondered on asking him to come over, but you didn't even get a chance to finalize your decisions.

"that's good," he said and ended the call. "... enjoy."

the boy you fell in love with. no. you've gotten it all wrong. it was a moment of kindness, but all the other things, you made them up. you built an image of atsumu in your head and when you're confronted with the reality that differed from your expectations, a feeling of discontent rose up.

oh.

(a list of things you didn't notice: four, the resignation in his tone during that call.)

the call ended. you weren't even given a chance to speak. you pondered on calling him again, but atsumu called for you and asked you if you're okay so you went back and talked to him. weird. there's something weird going on with you. an idea sprang up. maybe if it was osamu here, you'd have fun. how many times have you wanted osamu to arrive and replace his brother? how many times have you wished for him to be here instead of atsumu? how many times have you hoped that his name would appear on the screen of your phone, calling you?

atsumu's leaving. but the name that echoed inside your head was osamu osamu osamu osamu osamu. that lame bestfriend of yours that's been with you through thick and thin. the one who let you lean on them during train rides, the one who shared their lunch with you, the one you held in your arms in his moments of weakness, the one you loved and cared for and cherished with all your heart.

"atsumu-san," you called as he lingered in the doorway, tying his shoelaces as he prepared to go home.

"what?"

"thank you." for the clarity.

you could hardly sleep. twisting and turning in your bed. you've lost count of how many times you hit your injured hand and howls of pain echoed in your room. you arrived early at the inarizaki schoolyards.

"oh," it's atsumu. you turned around to face him. he's wearing his inarizaki jersey, hands on his pockets. "are 'ya all healed now?"

"yeah," you replied with a sweet smile. you're practically bouncing on your toes in excitement. it's not similar to how you used to feel when you waited for the twins' matches, when your eyes met atsumu's in the hallways and he greeted you good morning. it's not the same. at all. that was like a brief static shock from some small wire, this was a full on electrocution from a giant bolt of lightning. "where's 'samu?"

"oh 'ya didn't know? 'samu's walking to school with his new girlfriend."

the tears blurred your vision. you remembered running away, your shoes trailing dust after your wake. then it was clear again. it's no longer the days of old. you're back to the present, sat on one of the wooden benches. still autumn. the cold breeze, the tints of red and orange. a sad season. with all the things that were leaving. things that would soon be replaced with coldness.

a hand reached a can of coffee towards you. you looked up and smiled. "what's this for?"

"you're going to catch a cold." you took the can. "warm yourself up."

"i see," you murmured. "thanks."

"we have a quiz in ten minutes." the wind blew again, ruffling the fabric of your clothes. you opened the can of coffee and the bitter aroma wafted into your nose. "we're going to be late."

"i didn't study..."

he reached his hand out towards you. "i'll help you cram on the way," he said. "come on."

you took his hand. "thanks 'samu."

--

|| it's been a while since i wrote a long one-shot hahahaha. this was originally 3000+ words long, but i cut out a lot of useless parts. i'm lowkey fine with how it turned out, it's still messy tho.
|| the akaashi oneshot was supposed to come first, but i watched haikyuu!! to the top and wanted to write another oneshot for osamu.
|| please tell me what you guys think, i'd be happy to hear them ♡ break's began for me so i have more time to write.
|| as always, you guys stay safe and lovely ♡
|| and merry christmas to those who celebrate it!
|| kylalily, 2020