Number One - SakuAtsu ✔︎

Chapter 1

It was always Omi-Omi and never was it 'Sakusa' or even 'Kiyoomi'─ although that wasn't a preferred name. Not once. Not from when they started school together nor when they grew up and something such as respect was supposed to come naturally. It was Omi-Omi and that was final.

Kiyoomi figured it had to do all with when he changed schools at a very young age. Going from a private and prestigious school to a public place all thanks to his parents who decided that their son would never learn anything about surviving in the real world or the struggles he would face if he were sheltered all the time.

And that's how he met Miya Fucking Atsumu.

"Children, we have a new student for this year!" The teacher exclaimed. "You've all been together for the past two years but he’s new and doesn't know anyone, be kind."

The children all stared at the newcomer intently, silently judging as children do but only with kind thoughts that they didn’t dare voice out. Except for one.

"I LIKE HIS FOREHEAD DOTS! WHAT’S HIS NAME?!"

And that was the first preview of what life with Miya Atsumu would be like.

He had introduced himself. Orderly said, 'Sakusa Kiyoomi. Please call me Sakusa.' All but Miya Fucking Atsumu had listened. All had respectfully called him as he wished except, well, we all know who.

"Can Omi-Omi sit beside me?!" A small Atsumu begged, stars in his eyes as another boy─ that looked terrifyingly identical to him─ begged the loud child to behave.

"Atsumu, shut up! Don't be so loud!"

Atsumu had not, in fact, listened to his twin brother, Osamu, and due to the constant begging, a terrified Kiyoomi was made to sit beside the boy. That was definitely not what he had expected life in a public school to be like. He wanted out and he’d do just about anything to go back to his school with stuck up brats that he didn’t actually like and hell, he’d even agree to stop picking on his cousin, Komori Motoya.

It was then that life took an interesting twist, although it wasn't evident so suddenly. They grew up together, against Kiyoomi's wishes, one might add, and even ended up on the same sports team in elementary and middle school, and most of high school─ except secondary was only him on a team for two years. It was never Kiyoomi's dream to play sports and he realized that until way after, which some would say was too late to be making career paths but really, it wasn't at all.

"Omi! How could ya?! We were supposed ta go great lengths together and go pro! We woulda been unstoppable!" Atsumu had frantically tried to explain in hopes that he would persuade his best friend to continue sports.

"No, Miya Number One. I will not put up with that and I will definitely not put up with you."

Atsumu frowned. He knew that not everyone wanted to dedicate their lives to volleyball but he liked playing with Kiyoomi. He truly enjoyed their time on the court together and him leaving would be a sad moment of his life. He could accept his friend leaving him but he couldn't accept being left alone. But it wasn’t as if that was his choice for what Kiyoomi wanted to pursue in life.

"Fine. Then what'll ya do? What's yer dream?"

The question was a normal one. One that nearly everybody in life asked but the way Atsumu leaned in closer to hear eagerly, the sparkles in his eyes as he looked at him with clasped hands, and the stupidly bleached hair that matched him so well were factors that Sakusa Kiyoomi never expected to find attractive. Especially not in of all people, Miya Fucking Atsumu.

He thanked the deities that his mask hid the red he felt on his cheeks but his eyes remained bored and 'disgusted' by the question. The only problem, Atsumu had spent so much time with him that he knew the expression he held was not, in fact, one of disgust.

"I wanna be a hairstylist or a masseuse. Mayhaps both."

Atsumu looked at him curiously. Not of judgement but kind of as if he were savouring the thought of Sakusa Kiyoomi, of all people, to be the one who would willingly set himself up in a job where he’d have to touch people all day, every day. It was weird but hey, mayhaps Kiyoomi was overcoming his fears and who was Atsumu to point that out directly if those were his hopes and dreams?

It was actually delightful.

"Oh great! You'll be my stylist! Y’know, Samu accidentally dumped hydrogen peroxide on my head while I was layin' on the ground because he was tryna help Sunarin with his stupid cut on his foot but he spilt some on me and then I had ta get the rest of my hair bleached or else I’d look stupid," Atsumu explained with a sigh and of course, Kiyoomi had already heard the story countless times─ and in different versions.

One had said Suna was angry and threw the bottle after an argument and destroyed the elder twins' hair and another had said Atsumu was being an idiot and tried making a mini bomb and the after-effects had destroyed his hair.

To make it even worse, he had been there during the process of bleaching it and had witnessed first-hand how complicated it was to get his hair matching. They had been at Suna's house while he had so happened to be seated conveniently on a balcony behind his house that overlooked the neighbourhood when summoned by a screaming Atsumu looking up at him.

He had ignored, unwilling to go anywhere which would've been good for his nonsocial being but instead, the twins and Suna crawled through a hole in his fence and made their way inside. It was traumatizing to see them do that because Kiyoomi suddenly developed a fear of burglars kidnapping him in his sleep.

It took much too long to get over that. Especially not with Komori who had found out and would somehow sneak into his room and aggressively grab him with a fake scream. He swore his soul left his body at one of those times and he never did regret giving his cousin that broken rib.

Either way, Kiyoomi didn't really care about what Atsumu said. Or, more like it seemed as if he didn't but in reality, he did. The words Atsumu told him were enough to make him care so much to the point that he felt his insides warm up and flutters in his stomach swarm happily even years after they were first said.

He would never admit it; never in his life would he say that the stupid accident with Atsumu's hair had persuaded his future career choice. Besides, sports players always needed someone to get the knots out of their muscles which would surely be present in someone like Atsumu who had the energy of a damn dog and by the vibes of it all, dying his hair seemed as if it'd become a trademark look and Kiyoomi would be proud if he had the honours of making him a bottle blond whenever he wished.

So the words that had verbally resonated and signified that he would be the elder Miya twin's stylist were both encouraging and scary.

"Thanks in advance, Omi. I'll be yer number one customer!"