Atsumu hasn't always been a morning person.
After almost two decades of disastrous wake-up calls that have led to notorious records of tardiness in middle school and countless brawls with Osamu throughout high school, his fellow Inarizaki alumni can attest to the fact. But moving out of his hometown to pursue his lifetime passion and live on his own has compelled Atsumu to overcome the urge to hit the snooze button. Now the first-string setter for Osaka's top league team and an Olympian-a fucking Olympian with his brother's high school jersey number-who travels in and out of Japan for sponsorships and away games all year round, Atsumu rises with the sun and adheres to a routine, one he follows religiously even in the off-season.
It's a few minutes past six on a lovely Sunday morning with two more weeks of summer vacation before the V.League Championship commences. Scrambling out of bed, Atsumu wrestles with two heaving bodies latched to his sides as he tries to free himself from their hold, first to his left, then to his right.
Oh, right-that's another novelty in Miya Atsumu's life: he's in a committed relationship with Ushijima Wakatoshi and Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Yes, Japan's #1 and #15.
Yes, the team captain and the youngest ace.
And yes, both of them at the same time.
When he was 16, Atsumu would often see Wakatoshi and Kiyoomi at Nationals and other invitational tournaments, and it was easy to notice how chummy they seemed to be; how good they looked together, side by side. A myriad of feelings stirred in him-respect, admiration, awe, to name a few. Though, there was a tinge of an ugly green thing too-jealousy, Atsumu unreasonably knew he had no right to.
Eventually, he conquered all 5 stages of grief and accepted the simple truth of harboring a happy crush on not one but both aces, the desire to become a setter worthy of tossing the ball to spikers of their caliber burning far more ablaze than the fancy of romance.
His entire world shifted on its axis when Wakatoshi and Kiyoomi had caught him staring at Interhigh in 2013-so grindingly unsubtle at that-and Atsumu had ducked down to hide behind the bleachers, praying to all gods they didn't recognize him, which was impossible, to be frank, since the three of them were already acquainted through training camps and Atsumu had distinctive features, not only but especially his freshly bleached hair.
Curse the potent Miya genes and his sublime sense of style.
"What are ya doin' down there, ya scrub?" Osamu had come to get him, a sleepy Suna trailing a few steps at his back. "Coach asked us to start warming up already. Do ya want Kita-san to get angry?"
"They really get along well, huh," Atsumu groaned and frustratedly slumped into his hands, blatantly ignoring Osamu's words and his chiding glare.
"The hell are ya on about, Tsumu?!"
"Pro'ly his big, fat, crush on Ushijima and Sakusa," Suna drawled, face contorting to another lazy yawn.
"Rin! Ya promised not to snitch!" Atsumu gasped, cheeks nearly as red as the deep hue of his crimson jacket.
"Who're those pu- Oh. Ya mean those two scary-lookin' giants struttin' this way?
"They're not scary-lookin'! And what do ya mean struttin' this-" Atsumu peeped through the gap between the seats and blanched, eyes going wide as he gestured at his brother and his friend to shut their mouths and help him escape, which they spectacularly missed the mark on. Traitors . Even twin telepathy failed him when he needed it the most.
But sooner rather than later, reality will hit him with a grand revelation and twin confessions from not one but both aces, because unbeknownst to Atsumu, he had caught Wakatoshi and Kiyoomi's eyes long before his gaze had followed them. And after all this time, they had been scheming to win over Atsumu's heart as he had captured theirs, the aces endeared by his inexplicably charming bravado matched with his unparalleled devotion to the sport they poured themselves into.
