Work Text:
In life, there were five things that Sakusa Kiyoomi could not stand. She kept these items in a meticulous list in her head at all times, that way she could easily figure out in moments of anger exactly why she felt like throwing her fist at the first wall she saw. Komori was the one who suggested to make a list, that way Sakusa would know what made her angry and could quickly defuse it before she broke any more of her knuckles in grade school. It was as follows, in no particular order:
1. Dirtiness. Sakusa could deal with general disorganization, but when something was dirty, it was absolutely revolting to her. It made her feel as though her skin was alight with flames, and the general anxiety of germs essentially shut her brain down within minutes of being exposed to something that could potentially make her sick.
2. People touching her. All her life, she had to find excuse after excuse not to give a hug or why she got so angered when people brushed up against her back at school. MSBY had quickly learned she wasn’t one to high-five or hug after a game, so they found other ways to include Sakusa in their post-game excitement. Sakusa really appreciated this.
3. Feelings. Sakusa hated when people got all emotional on her. She couldn’t stand it.
4. Unnecessary Violence. Yes, when Sakusa got mad, she wanted to punch, but she would never raise her fist against anyone. She absolutely hated when people hurt other people, especially for no good reason.
5. Miya Atsumu.
In all honesty, Sakusa could condense her entire list into simply Miya Atsumu. She was the exact embodiment of everything Sakusa hated in life. She was loud. Unorganized. Hugged and punched everyone she felt like— having no respect for anyone’s personal boundaries. She was nosy and weaseled her way into everyone’s business.
She flirted with every single boy who watched one of their games, twirling one of her perfect blonde braids in her perfectly manicured hands. The boy would always say the most unfunny joke Sakusa had ever heard in her life, yet Atsumu would laugh the same perfect laugh each time, before resting her hand on the guy’s chest and batting her eyelashes at him. That sole sequence of events made Sakusa want to burn the gym down alone.
Sakusa stood and watched as Atsumu did this to at least three guys in a row, trying to burn holes into the back of her head with only her eyes. Eventually, Atsumu noticed her staring. She stared back at Sakusa for at least a minute, challenging her with her own eyes.
Soon enough, Atsumu returned to the line of fans behind her. And in the next minute, Hinata came up to her, careful not to stand too close.
“Hiya, Omi-kun.” Hinata smiled. On the complete opposite side of things, Hinata Shoyo was impossible to hate. She was so sweet and understanding. She was everything Atsumu was not.
“Hi Hinata.” Sakusa muttered, not taking his eyes off of Atsumu. Sakusa kept repeating over and over in her head that she did not need to punch a wall right now. That she could swallow her unexplainable anger that rose each time she saw a guy step unnecessarily close to Atsumu.
“Are you feeling okay? That fight between you and Atsumu was rough earlier.” Hinata said, and Sakusa turned to face her. Her ginger hair was tied back into a small ponytail at the base of her neck, her eyes alight with energy as they were at all hours of the day. “Will you two be alright?”
Sakusa thought back to earlier that day, when she and Atsumu had got in one of their worst fights yet. Atsumu had accused Sakusa of not trying hard enough recently in their practices. Sakusa shot back and told her to stop scrutinizing every single move Sakusa ever made. Then the fight descended further— Sakusa calling Atsumu a careless slob while Atsumu called Sakusa heartless. They had to be broken apart by Meian, and hadn’t spoken all day.
“Have we ever been alright?” Sakusa muttered, half-heartedly.
Hinata’s face fell a bit. She shifted the conversation. “You did awesome during the game today, by the way. I think those were some of the best spikes I’ve ever seen from you.”
“Aw, thanks.” Sakusa said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You did great today too.” She lowered her voice a bit, glancing from side to side to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “I’m really glad you’re on the team. You carried us today.”
At Sakusa’s words, Hinata’s entire face lightened up even more, if that was possible.
“Really?” Hinata laughed. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. This isn’t like a prank, right? Did Bokuto put you up to this?”
“No, I mean it.” Sakusa smiled a small smile back, knowing an admission like this was odd from her. She was eager to keep the conversation off of Atsumu as well, as the thought of their fight made her stomach drop. “Just never got around to saying it. I don’t think we would’ve won today if not for you.”
Hinata blushed at this. She was incredibly modest about her talent, but ever since Hinata had joined MSBY, they were a powerhouse. She was nothing but raw power, and her love for the game was infectious.
Eventually, Hinata and Sakusa made their way to the locker room. After showering and changing, the two of them ran into Bokuto, who was chatting excitedly to someone on the phone about how well the game went.
“Come over to Osaka and visit for the weekend, Keiji–” Bokuto said into the phone, mussing her layered, damp hair with her other hand. “I feel like we haven’t caught up in years. Come over and hit the bars with us tonight!”
Before Sakusa could escape from the room, Hinata looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes of hers. “Please tell me you’re celebrating with us tonight, Omi.” Hinata asked. “It would be so great to have you there with us.”
Sakusa opened her mouth to let an excuse fall out, but Bokuto swiveled her head over to them, her eyes wide like they always were. “Omi please!” Bokuto’s voice echoed throughout the room. “ Please please please please please–”
Sakusa pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. Komori had made her promise she’d go out just once with the team this season. And Sakusa hated making her cousin sad.
“Fine.” Sakusa sighed. “I’ll come.”
Bokuto and Hinata cheered.
Sakusa sat at a small table in the corner of the bar, a black mask over her face. Next to her sat Hinata and Bokuto, who were somehow still discussing the events of the game earlier that day. They never ran out of things to say about volleyball. A fourth chair remained open, which was soon filled by a shorter girl with frizzy hair much like Sakusa’s.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled, immediately pulling the girl in for one of her bone-crushing hugs when she walked up to the table. The girl seemed to expect this, like this hadn’t been the first one she’d experienced.
“Hello, Bokuto-san.” The girl smiled, adjusting the glasses on her face. “It’s been a while–”
“It’s been forever!” Bokuto laughed, letting her go. From first appearances, they seemed like such an unlikely pair of friends. But then again, sometimes the best friendships were forged between two people who could not be any more different.
As Bokuto, Akaashi, and Hinata excitedly chatted, Sakusa let her eyes drift across the room. At the bar stood Atsumu in an all-black dress. Her hair was down. It was rarely ever down. Atsumu always said she loved her long hair, but for all the times she put it into buns and ponytails and braids, it seemed like she often forgot about it. Regardless, it looked nice.
Sakusa internally chastised herself. Why the hell was she thinking about Atsumu’s hair?
Bokuto pulled Sakusa out of her thoughts. She introduced Sakusa to Akaashi, who was one of the most polite people Sakusa had ever met. Akaashi also kept looking at Bokuto with this foggy look in her eye, a small smile on her face. Like Bokuto was akin to a passing shooting star.
Bokuto and Hinata soon left to get a few drinks, leaving Sakusa and Akaashi alone at the table. Neither of them seemed the type to be able to randomly strike up a conversation with a stranger, so the two of them sat in silence for a few moments, Akaashi nervously clearing her throat.
“You’re a great player, Sakusa-san.” Akaashi said, playing with the rings on her fingers. “You were a force to be reckoned with in high school.”
“You watched me play in high school?”
Akaashi laughed. “No. I played against you in high school.”
Sakusa’s mind reeled. Itatchiyama played against many, many schools. She quickly tried to figure out which school Akaashi could’ve played for, but Akaashi beat her to it.
“I was on Fukurodani’s team, too.” Akaashi smiled. “I know I’m forgettable, but I didn’t think to this extent.”
“Wait–” Sakusa realized, all too late. “You set for Bokuto, didn’t you?”
Akaashi nodded. Sakusa thought back to high school. Now that she was reminded, she could recall all of the times Itatchiyama had played Fukurodani, and had almost gotten crushed by the deadly duo that was Bokuto and her setter. They were unstoppable.
Silence fell between them again. As Sakusa was probably the most blunt person to walk the face of the earth, she couldn’t stop what came out of her mouth next.
“You like her, don’t you?”
Akaashi immediately stopped playing with her fingers, staring at Sakusa. A small blush found its way onto her cheeks.
“Why do you ask?” She asked, quietly.
“Just the way you look at her.” Sakusa said, resting her head on her chin. She was wearing her hair down for the first time in a while, and she could feel her curls brushing against her bare shoulders as she moved. It bothered her. “And the way you came all this way just to sit at the bar with us. Kind of suspicious.”
“I can’t do that for a friend?” Akaashi asked.
“Yeah, you can.” Sakusa muttered, a smirk growing on her face. “But also, Bokuto told me a few months ago she always had the biggest crush on her best friend from high school. Who was also coincidentally her setter.”
Akaashi blanched. Sakusa sipped her water.
“You’re a menace.” Akaashi said.
“I know.”
“Why’d you just admit that?” Akaashi asked, looking behind at Bokuto, who was laughing at the bar next to Atsumu. “She probably told you that in confidence. And now you’ve spilled her secret. It could ruin my friendship with her if I say anything about it.”
Sakusa just shrugged, letting her eyes drift across the room again. “It probably won’t.”
Akaashi sighed, crossing her arms. Then she got a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You know, you’re not so slick, either.” Akaashi said. “This is the fifth time you’ve looked at Miya-san in the ten minutes I’ve been here.”
Sakusa felt revolted. There was no way. “Fifth? Have you been counting?”
“It’s not like it’s hard to see. You stare at her forever, a small scowl always setting into your face.” Akaashi said.
“Damn.” Sakusa swore, sipping her water. She messed with the wrong person tonight. “That’s ridiculous. Miya and I are not even friends.” She sighed. “I’m just making sure the dumbass isn’t drinking too much. She has a tendency to do that.”
Akaashi leaned back in her chair, analyzing Sakusa’s face. She was slightly frowning, like she wanted to push Sakusa further, but decided against it.
Eventually, Bokuto and Hinata came back. Conversation resumed as usual, but Sakusa kept watching Akaashi’s eyes. She seemed to be scrutinizing Bokuto’s face, as if there were cues there that she had been blind to for years. But before anything could happen regarding that, a flash of motion caught Sakusa’s eye from across the room.
Sakusa looked up, and across the room, she saw Atsumu speaking to a taller guy. He had dark hair that was pulled back into a small bun. He was quite dressed up. Atsumu, ever so elegantly stuck at a 5’6 her entire life, had to slightly crane her neck up to talk to him. On outward appearances, it seemed like a normal conversation. But something unnerved Sakusa.
Atsumu wasn’t playing with her hair. Nor was she laughing, or resting her hand on the guy’s chest. She just stood there, a drink in her hand, slightly frozen.
Sakusa excused herself from the table, saying she needed some fresh air. She slowly made her way over to the bar, then sat down at a stool within earshot of the guy and Atsumu. She planned on just listening in to see if everything was alright. It was the easiest way to check on her without making a scene, so that’s what Sakusa did.
Sakusa was probably overreacting anyways. Atsumu was allowed to have a conversation with a guy without flirting with him. Maybe he was an old friend.
But Atsumu’s body language was what unnerved Sakusa. Atsumu seldom just stood still— talking to anyone. Even with her sister, Atsumu was like a whirlwind of movement, constantly talking with her hands.
The music quieted for a moment, and Sakusa could hear their conversation more clearly.
“C’mon, just give me your number.” The guy said, his voice low. “We’ve been having such a great chat all night. I’m a cool guy. You don’t think so?”
“Um. Yeah, you’re cool.” Atsumu’s voice said, an odd tinge to it. “I– I don’t think I can give you my number, though. My phone has been really wonky lately, so I probably wouldn’t get any of your texts.” Atsumu nervously laughed. The guy didn’t buy it.
“Oh, come on.” He said. “You play volleyball professionally. I’m sure you have enough money to have a working phone. Just give me your number. It’s not a big deal or anything.”
“I don’t want to.” Atsumu said, voice getting smaller.
“Why not?” The guy pushed out a fake laugh. “I’m one of the nicest guys in this bar, I can tell you that. Nicer than anyone else you’ll talk to–”
“I said I’m good–”
“Then why’d you lead me on, huh?” The guy asked, his voice sending chills down Sakusa’s spine. Sakusa motioned for the man working at the bar to come over, but Sakusa must’ve looked like she was placing an order and not asking for help in defusing the situation. The man at the bar dismissed her.
While she waited for him to come over to her, she risked looking over to where Atsumu stood with the creep. Atsumu’s back was turned to Sakusa, so she couldn’t see her face, but she saw a flash of anger pass the guy’s face. Atsumu muttered something and stepped to the side, but the guy reached out and grabbed Atsumu’s arm, yanking her back.
Sakusa saw red.
She got up, almost as if she was in a trance. She walked over to the both of them, standing next to Atsumu and giving the creep the exact same look that had scared away all of Sakusa’s fellow classmates in elementary school. The look that made Sakusa look more haunted than a ghost.
“Um. Can I help you?” The guy said after a moment. His hand was still on Atsumu’s arm, and Atsumu looked to Sakusa in a panic.
“Excuse me, but can I ask where your left hand is right now?” Sakusa asked, remaining calm on the outside, her fists clenched at her side.
“What the fuck?” The guy asked. After ten seconds of staring back at Sakusa, he let go of Atsumu’s arm, and Atsumu quickly took a step back.
“Omi–”
Sakusa ignored her, not taking her eyes off of the guy. “Did she say you could touch her?”
The guy didn’t answer. He only scowled further.
“Answer me.” Sakusa demanded, taking a step closer. He was only a few inches taller than Sakusa. Her height, along with the look in her eyes, caused the guy to take a step back.
“So what if I grabbed her arm?” He said. “It’s not like I grabbed her b–”
Sakusa didn’t let another word come out of his mouth. She cocked her arm back, much lower than when she went to do a spike, but put even more power into it. She cringed when her fist slammed into the guy’s nose, but the sound of his nose breaking made it worth it.
He stumbled back, clutching his nose with his hand. It was dripping blood. All of the people in their immediate vicinity took a step back, and a general hush fell over them, extending to the whole bar. Sakusa started to laugh, looking down and seeing blood on her knuckle. When she looked up, her eyes met Atsumu’s, who was just staring back at her, her mouth left hanging open. Sakusa had never seen her look this surprised.
The guy held his bleeding nose with one hand, and with the other began to reach out to grab Sakusa’s hair. “You bitch–”
Before he could do anything, the man at the bar reached over the counter and yanked the creep back by his shirt.
“Both of you. Out. Now.” The man ordered. The creep looked like he wanted to say more, but one look from the man behind the bar had him stomping out the door. Sakusa grabbed a napkin to wipe her knuckles and began to head for the back entrance. Atsumu followed her. As they walked through the bar, Bokuto and Hinata stared at Sakusa with wide eyes, while Akaashi just smirked.
When they got outside, the two of them stood a few feet away from the door. A light dusting of snow was falling, but it wasn’t very cold. Sakusa pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her bag and squeezed it onto her knuckle, then wiped it with the napkin. She repeated this a few times, all while Atsumu watched.
“You’re nuts.” Atsumu finally said, her cheeks slightly pink.
“Blood is a biohazard.” Sakusa said, matter of fact.
“No, not about that.” Atsumu shook her head. “You punched him. Why?”
Sakusa looked up at Atsumu, as if Atsumu were asking why Sakusa played volleyball.
“He was being a creep to you. And it made me mad.” Sakusa answered. “Before you feel all special or anything, I would’ve done that for literally anyone. No one deserves to be harassed.”
Atsumu just kept staring at Sakusa, a goofy look on her face.
“You punched a guy for me.” Atsumu grinned. “You got blood on your knuckle for me.”
Sakusa just looked at her. “I would’ve done that for anyone.”
“But you did it for me–”
“Quit it.”
Atsumu laughed. “C’mon. Let me give you a ride home for doin’ that for me. I know ya don’t wanna be here anyways.”
“I literally just got kicked out–”
“That, too.” Atsumu nodded. “But anyways, I’m done here for the night, now that I’m thoroughly creeped out. My sister’s girlfriend has a car.” She paused. “Let me give you a ride so you don’t have to worry about running into him on the train or anythin’.”
Sakusa looked at Atsumu for a moment, thinking about how this would be the first exchange of favors either of them had ever done for one another. She sighed, nodding.
Atsumu slipped inside to tell the others goodbye. She returned with their coats, gently handing Sakusa’s over before slipping her own bright pink coat on. It was so pink it made Sakusa’s eyes hurt.
Eventually, a small Honda pulled up outside the bar, and Sakusa and Atsumu slid into the back. In the driver’s seat was a girl who was the most goth person Sakusa had ever seen in her entire life. Her ears were adorned with so much cool jewelry, her eyeliner perfect and black lipstick across her lips. She looked back at Atsumu, gripping the wheel tighter.
“Tell me what the creep looks like, ‘Tsumu.” The girl said. “I’m going to beat the shit out of him.”
“Not needed, Sunarin.” Atsumu muttered. “Omi here already took care of that.”
The person in the passenger seat swung around. She had dark chin length hair, and the exact same face as Atsumu’s. She looked at Sakusa, her eyes softer than Atsumu’s. “Thank you for lookin’ out for my idiot sister.” She paused, ruffling through her jacket pocket. She pulled out a business card. “Here’s my restaurant. It’s on the house, for what you did for ‘Tsumu.”
Sakusa took the card.
“Can I have a free meal?” Atsumu asked. “For what I went through tonight?”
“No.” Osamu said, twisting back around.
Twenty minutes later, they were outside of Sakusa’s apartment complex. Atsumu insisted on walking Sakusa up to the front doors. For their first few steps, there was silence. But then Sakusa’s bluntness possessed her, for some ungodly reason.
“Are you alright?” Sakusa asked.
Atsumu took a moment to respond, a tired look crossing her face for a moment. Sakusa had never seen her look like this before.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” She sighed. “Happens a lot. I’m used to it.”
“That’s shit.” Sakusa said.
And it was.
They reached the front doors. As Sakusa dug through her purse for her keys, Atsumu stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot. When Sakusa looked up, she was twirling her hair with her finger, looking at Sakusa.
“Yes?” Sakusa asked.
“I–” Atsumu began. She rarely stuttered. “I just wanted to say thanks.” She fell quiet, still twisting her hair around her finger. “And I’m sorry about our argument earlier. I was being an ass.”
“It’s okay.” Sakusa said, not feeling any anger. “I was being an ass, too.”
Atsumu held out her hand. Her nails were pink with small black flowers on them. They looked nice.
“Truce?” Atsumu said, a little shyly.
Sakusa took Atsumu’s hand, and shook it. “Truce.”
They stood there for a moment.
“You can put hand sanitizer on your hand now.” Atsumu laughed. “I won’t take offense.”
Sakusa breathed a sigh of relief, pulling out her hand sanitizer.
The two of them became friends after that. Practices and games became easier now that they got along. Their friendship was sort of fun, too, since the two of them were so different. They both also had much more in common than Sakusa thought, such as having short tempers and a love for shitty television.
They watched a lot of shitty television together. Atsumu would always come over to Sakusa’s, and they’d sit together on the couch, sometimes sharing a blanket. Often, Atsumu wanted to paint her nails while they watched TV together. The first time Sakusa was nervous about her spilling her polish or dropping some of it, but Atsumu was really meticulous about not making a mess. She never spilt a drop.
This time, she painted her nails a dark blue. Sakusa really liked the color.
“I really like that color.” Sakusa said, in the middle of a dramatic chase scene.
“Thanks, Omi.” Atsumu said, smiling to herself. She had her hair down today. Her roots were growing in, but Sakusa liked how they contrasted with the blonde. “Do you ever paint your nails?”
Sakusa shook her head. “Nah. I don’t really like it.”
“That’s okay.” Atsumu said. “For me, I can’t live without it. If I were a guy, I’d probably still be painting my nails. To hell with society.”
Sakusa laughed at the thought of Atsumu being a boy. She’d probably still be just as obnoxious, albeit a little taller. Probably just as cute. “Would you still put flowers on your nails?”
“Hm. I don’t know.” Atsumu flared her fingers, looking at each nail. “I’m not super crazy about flowers as it is. Maybe I’d put little volleyballs on them or something.”
“Why did you have flowers on your nails that one time, then?” Sakusa asked. “The black flowers with the pink, on the night I punched that guy.”
Atsumu looked down for a moment. “My sister likes flowers. So I put flowers on my nails that one time for her.” She looked at Sakusa. “What about you? What would you do as a guy?”
Sakusa shrugged. “Maybe I’d keep my hair shorter. I don’t really like my hair right now, as it is.” Sakusa said, tugging at one of the strands. It was nearly past her shoulders. It drove her nuts.
“So cut it.” Atsumu said. “Don’t keep it long if you don’t like it. It’s just like your nails. Do what you want.” She paused. “I think you’d look really cool with a haircut, anyways. But my opinion doesn’t matter. You need to do what you want.”
Sakusa turned her face back to the TV, a little lost in thought.
When the Olympics rolled around, Japan lost to Argentina.
Sakusa stood on one side of the net, panting. She was so sweaty, her thick curls making her feel like she was a thousand degrees. It was pulled back in a ponytail, but still, it felt so heavy. Across the net from her stood Oikawa, her thin brown hair in a single braid that ran down her back. It looked lighter than Sakusa’s hair. Maybe that’s why Oikawa was so much faster—
Sakusa felt Atsumu step up next to her. Atsumu was the only person on the team who Sakusa let stand so close to her. With her, it felt different. Sakusa never got mad about Atsumu being in her personal space.
“You did great, Omi.” Atsumu smiled at her, sweat dripping down her face. “I think that’s the best I’ve ever seen ya play.”
Sakusa put her hands on her own knees, breathing in. “I don’t know about that. I could’ve done so much better. I could’ve been faster.”
Atsumu put a hand on Sakusa’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. “You look like yer on the brink of falling over. I think that’s sign enough that you tried you’re best.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Sakusa muttered.
The two of them joined the rest of the team to speak with the coach and pack up. The audience around them was gradually filing out of the stands, but much of the crowd still lingered. Some of them were pretty upset that the team had lost, but Sakusa tried her best to ignore their boos and angry shouts.
Bokuto and Hinata grabbed a few of the team’s bags and began to head out the player exit, so Sakusa grabbed a few bags and followed them. She could overhear Bokuto telling Hinata about her latest date with Akaashi– how the two of them had gone on a hike and kissed under the prettiest rainfall. Sakusa was glad to know their relationship was going well.
As Sakusa passed a small overhang that a few crowd members stood on, she heard one of the players begin to shout.
“You suck!” A guy yelled. “You acted like you’ve never played volleyball a single day in your life, bitch!”
Sakusa kept her eyes to the ground. Another guy yelled.
“A single guy from the men’s Japanese team could crush you guys!”
Sakusa rolled her eyes. That was just blatantly false. The men’s team was good, but they weren’t the ones known for being a monster generation.
Sakusa didn’t care about their shouts, until she felt something wet land in her hair.
Sakusa slowly dropped the bags she was carrying. She reached back, grabbing her ponytail, only to find that it was wet with spit. One of the grossest things to exist was now in her hair and on her hand. She looked up, and the guy closest to her was smiling.
As she stared at her hand, she tried to keep calm. She tried not to get angry and yell back at them. That’s what they wanted. Punching the wall would do nothing.
So Sakusa stood there, trying to breathe deeply. She tried not to think about the spit. But it was really, really hard. It was so gross, there were so many germs—
She could feel her breathing start to pick up, but then she heard a rustle of movement. To her left, Atsumu quickly scaled up one of the lower walls that led up to the stands. She quickly weaved her way through the aisles, a big, fake smile on her face.
“Hiya, boys.” She smiled. “I’m so sorry we disappointed you today.”
She kept making her way closer, and the boys didn’t move. Only Sakusa noticed that Atsumu’s right fist was clenched as she stepped up to the boy who stood closest to Sakusa. The one who’d spit on her.
“It’s fine.” He said. “Just do–”
He didn’t get to finish his thought. Atsumu punched him right in the cheek, causing him to cry out in pain.
Atsumu laughed a sweet laugh, the one she always did when she spoke to guys. “Oh, my bad!” She put her hands on his shoulders, standing him back up straight. “You mind repeating that for me? I didn’t hear you.”
The guy had the nerve to open his mouth again. And Atsumu punched him again, this time under the chin. He fell backwards, and one of his friends caught him. Atsumu then kicked the guy in the crotch, then left, scaling down the wall.
Sakusa soon felt Atsumu standing next to her, putting a hand on her back and walking towards the exit with her. She walked her all the way to their locker room, having her sit down on one of the benches before getting a disinfectant wipe from her bag and wiping Sakusa’s hand with it.
“You still with me?” Atsumu smiled, grabbing another wipe and getting the spit out of Sakusa’s hair.
“Yeah.” Sakusa muttered, staring at the floor. Her heart was still pounding. “That was fucking disgusting.”
“I know.” Atsumu sighed. “Good thing I spit on my knuckles before I punched him, though.”
Sakusa looked up at Atsumu for the longest time, before she felt a grin creep up the side of her face. Atsumu laughed. Not the fake one she did when she flirted with guys. A real laugh.
It was a laugh that filled the entire room. A laugh that showed her teeth and make her eyes crinkle.
It made Sakusa laugh, too.
That night, Sakusa stood in Atsumu’s bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d taken two showers, but her hair still felt disgusting. She put her face in her hands, trying not to freak out. She wanted the gross feeling gone.
Sakusa heard Atsumu enter the bathroom. Sakusa didn’t take her hands off of her face, so after a minute or two, Atsumu gently reached over, taking them off of Sakusa’s face and looking her in the eye.
“You okay?” Atsumu asked. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few stands around the sides of her face.
Sakusa shook her head. “I can’t get the spit out .” She breathed in. “I feel like it’s still in there.”
Atsumu’s eyes looked into Sakusa’s for a moment, before Atsumu bent down and pulled out a pair of hair cutting scissors and a razor— one that was typically used for short haircuts. She set them on the counter, looking back at Sakusa.
“Up to you.” Atsumu said, smiling. She went to leave, but Sakusa reached out and put her hand on Atsumu’s shoulder.
“Wait–” Sakusa said. “Why do you have that razor?”
Atsumu laughed. “I can’t just own that?”
“I mean you can–”
Atsumu shook her head. “No. It used to be my sister’s. She used to wear her hair really short, so I cut it for her a lot. She didn’t want it anymore, so I took it.”
Sakusa picked up the razor, inspecting it. “Oh. How long did she wear it short?”
Atsumu thought for a moment. “Hm. Probably from kindergarten to her nineteenth birthday.”
“Wow. That’s pretty long.” Sakusa said. “Why’d she wear it so short?”
Atsumu looked at her nails, leaning against the bathroom door. “Oh. Probably because I was the one who always had long hair, and she wanted to look different from me, since we have the same face an’ everythin’.” She paused. “Also she was a boy.”
Silence fell. Sakusa just looked over at Atsumu. Soon, Sakusa felt a wicked grin sliding up her own face.
“That’s cool as hell.” Sakusa said. “Nineteenth birthday?”
“Yeah. When she came out to me.” Atsumu laughed. “Best birthday present ever— getting a sister.”
Sakusa went and plugged in the razor, turning it on. She turned to Atsumu.
“Well, since you have so much experience.” Sakusa said. “You mind cutting my hair for me?”
Atsumu smiled at her, stepping forward and unplugging the razor, much to Sakusa’s dismay.
“Slow down, Omi!” Atsumu giggled, reaching for the scissors. “Let me cut it first, then we buzz.” So Sakusa sat down in a chair that Atsumu pulled into the bathroom. Atsumu put on a pop artist they both liked, and got to work. Atsumu even let Sakusa chop a few large chunks of it off herself, which felt so cathartic.
Eventually her hair was short enough to buzz it. Atsumu plugged the razor back in, being as gentle as she could with Sakusa’s hair. After enough hair had fallen to the ground, Atsumu turned off the razor. Sakusa was facing the shower curtain, so she couldn’t see it.
“Close your eyes.” Atsumu whispered. And Sakusa did.
She spun the chair around, then told Sakusa to open her eyes. When she did, her hair was the prettiest it had ever looked in Sakusa’s entire life. It was shaved at the sides, giving her an undercut, but on the top enough remained that slightly hung over on the sides, making Sakusa look so cool. Sakusa didn’t even realize she hadn’t said anything.
“Do you like it?” Atsumu said, her voice getting timid, like she was afraid Sakusa would hate it.
Sakusa looked at her, unable to keep a smile off of her face. “I love it. I love it I love it I love it!” Sakusa nearly squealed, pulling at the hair in the mirror, mussing it up and ruffling it all sorts of ways. It felt so light. When Sakusa looked back at Atsumu, she was grinning.
“I’ve never seen you so happy before.” Atsumu laughed, stepping forward. Sakusa looked back in the mirror, seeing how unfamiliar her own smile was to her.
“I love it.” Sakusa whispered, walking forward and pulling Atsumu in for their first hug. Atsumu seemed slightly taken aback, but in a few moments wrapped her own arms around Sakusa’s chest. “Thank you, Atsumu.”
“It’s no problem, Omi.” Atsumu said, leaning her head on Sakusa’s shoulder.
The two of them cleaned up the bathroom, then sat on Atsumu’s couch. Atsumu reached forward to grab the remote and turn on the television, but Sakusa stopped her.
“What is it?” Atsumu asked, gently. “No TV today?”
Sakusa shook her head. “No. I have a better idea.”
Atsumu nervously laughed. “And that is?”
“Kiss me.” Sakusa admitted, feeling her own face warm up. “I’ve liked you forever. And right now, I really, really want to kiss you.” She paused. “Only if you want to, though.”
Atsumu blushed, the same look of shock that she had on her face the night Sakusa had broken that man’s nose with her fist. She took a moment to respond.
“Duh.” Atsumu eventually breathed, smiling. “Of course I want to.”
The two of them kissed. Sakusa felt like she'd been struck by lightning.
As Sakusa ran her hands through Atsumu’s hair, she realized that her list of five things she hated most in the world had now dropped to four.
She’d have to find a new thing to hate, she supposed.