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a world without you by my side

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It wasn't rare for them to fight, to be honest. Actually, it was a pretty common occurrence, ever since they were young.

It ranged from banal things, petty, immature, stupid to insulting, personal, and serious. Sometimes they even started getting physical but those instances were rarer. (Though, it happened.) But it never lasted long, and the people around them even started ignoring them because they knew they would always figure it out on their own somehow. 

Usually they would sulk and ignore each other for a while until one of them broke and suggested playing video games and that was the end of it. They didn't talk it out or apologize or anything. They didn't need to. That's not how they worked.

So no one batted an eye when they two were in the middle of a shouting match one summer evening after practice. No one called the coach or tried to intervene even when they saw the Inarizaki volleyball club’s vice-captain pull on their captain's collar because this has happened before, many times. The new first years looked around in shock as the older players just proceeded like business as usual and Suna just waved them off, taking mercy on them.

“Don't worry. This happens all the time. C’mon let's get out of here.”

The first years just gulped hesitantly but nodded because Suna-senpai was a third year so he must know best, right?

All the while, the Miya twins glared each other down, ignoring the world around them.

“I’m so sick of ya, seriously,” Osamu hissed, having pulled his brother’s face close up to his.

Atsumu rolled his eyes and shoved him back. “If ya so sick of me, then fuck off! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Can’t even do that when I hav’ta be around ya all the freakin’ time!”

Atsumu grabbed his bag and walked out of the gym, giving Osamu the finger, and Osamu rolled his eyes because that's so typical. 

Osamu had no choice but to follow him, all the way home, up the stairs and into their room, and he was still so riled up. He just wanted some peace, just one day without him.

Atsumu completely ignored him and that fit Osamu just fine. Everything about him pissed him off right now. His voice, his hair, even his face which complicated things because theirs looked the same.

No one could probably really pinpoint what exactly they were fighting about. It was just a thing Atsumu said earlier that day that somehow annoyed Osamu so he told his brother off. And that's all it took for it to escalate. For them to throw around insults, to act like petty twelve year olds, even though they're turning eighteen soon.

It didn't matter. Osamu was still angry.

He wanted just a single day without his brother all around him. That would be paradise.

He fell asleep that night with that thought floating around his head, knowing that his brother was probably thinking the same and that alone made him angry too.



Osamu is rudely awakened the next day by an alarm he knows he didn't set.

First of all, the ringtone is one he’d never heard before and it was really annoying, especially as it went on and on. Second of all, he knows he didn't set an alarm because it's Sunday and that's their morning off, so the fact that the one day he gets to sleep in was taken from him – he knows this is Atsumu's doing.

Osamu is still too sleepy to remember their fight or the fact that they're not talking yet and he buries his face into the pillow and groans.

“Sumu, turn that shit off,” he grumbles but there's no reply, not even the sound of movement and Osamu hates his brother. Slowly, yesterday's happenings are coming back to him and he can't believe he’s making him angry first thing in the morning. Did Atsumu set that alarm just to piss h off even more?

“I said turn that shit off!” Osamu says, this time clearer and louder and he finally pushes himself off the bed to glare up at his brother at the top of the bunk bed only to see —

That he wasn't sleeping in a bunk bed. Actually, this isn't even his bedroom and his brother isn't here.

Osamu freezes as he takes in his surroundings, utterly confused and honestly a little freaked out, while that annoying alarm just keeps blaring in the background.

Mechanically, Osamu turns his head and he sees that it's coming from a phone on the nightstand next to this foreign bed. He reaches out and finally turns it off and then Osamu is abruptly surrounded in absolute silence. Genuine silence.

He can't hear his mother cooking breakfast downstairs, can't hear the TV playing the morning news that his father watches every morning. Can't hear the neighbors kids that always play early in the morning on weekends. There's nothing.

Where the hell am I??

Osamu looks at the phone again and it's also not his. This model is way too expensive and honestly nothing like he has seen before.

The date reads August 07, 2019

Osamu stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, until he feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull. 2019?? 2019??? How is that even possible? Yesterday he was still in 2014 which he knows is most definitely the correct timeline. He should be in 2014, in his last year of high school, back at home. Instead he is– he is– Osamu doesn't even know where he is!

He feels how the panic starts to build up in him and he doesn't know what's going on or what he should do. How is it even possible that he goes to bed in 2014 but then wakes up catapulted five years into the future? Is this a dream? It has to be a dream because something like this just doesn't happen.

Osamu looks around the room again and it's a simple bedroom. A nice king size bed, a dresser, a desk with a laptop on it, and some plants on the window still. The window! Osamu jumps out of bed and looks outside.

What greets him outside is not his neighborhood, but what appears to be a downtown area of some city he doesn't recognize. Is he even still in Hyogo? Is he far away from home? Is this supposed to be his own apartment?

Osamu tries to calm down but it's very difficult. This is a dream. This is just a dream, he keeps telling himself but it's really difficult, especially now that his hands start to shake.

He’s still gripping that phone tightly in his hands and this thing, along with maybe that laptop, could give him a little more insight into his situation.

It’s just a dream, he repeats as he unlocks the phone and it doesn't appear to have a passcode but just unlocks as he looks at it.

He stares at the wallpaper. It's a photo of himself next to Kita-senpai standing in front of a restaurant, but there are so many things wrong with that photo. First of all, Kita-senpai looks a little older, broader too, but that's the smallest issue he has with it. What really strikes him is seeing himself and what he looks like. His hair is shorter and black and mostly hidden under a cap. He looks bigger and older as well and he's wearing a shirt that reads Onigiri Miya. Actually, the sign over the entrance of the restaurant reads the same.

Osamu's dream is to open an onigiri restaurant. He even told his teachers during their career counseling that he wants to go down the culinary route, take business classes along culinary classes and open his own restaurant. And he told them he wants to call it Onigiri Miya.

This is just a dream. A dream. A dream.

Osamu looks around again and he walks out of the bedroom. He finds himself in something looking like an averagely sized living room with two couches, a coffee table and a pretty big flat-screen TV. On the other side is an open kitchen with a kitchen island and bar stools. There are several photos here and there, some decoration, books, all kinds of stuff but Osamu can't take it all in right now. It's too much.

He looks around more and sees another door and he hopes it's going to lead him to the bathroom.

He’s relieved to see that it does but it's short lived, as he starts to freak out the second he sees his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

He looks like himself except he doesn't. His jaw is sharper, he has a little stubble, his hair is a lot shorter and free of any hair dye. He looks like in that photo. He doesn't look like seventeen.

This is a dream, right? Right?

Osamu unlocks the phone again. He looks for a map app and finds it easily, even if the design of the phone is still completely foreign to him.

A little blinking pin on the map that Osamu doesn't recognize greets him. Osamu zooms out and almost drops the phone.

Osaka. He's currently in Osaka.

Miya Osamu woke up in an apartment that’s apparently his in the middle of Osaka in 2019 where he owns a restaurant. Osamu needs to sit down.

He leaves the bathroom again on shaky legs and he falls onto one of the couches, phone still tightly in his hands.

He needs to breathe and find out more about what the everloving fuck is going on because all of this is just crazy.

Atsumu. He needs to call Atsumu.

His brother can help him, he’ll be the only one to even believe him. Who else would? Hi, I woke up five years into the future and don't know about anything that happened? Yeah right, even Osamu still has a hard time believing that. 

He opens the contacts on his phone to look for Atsumu's contact information and he frowns when he can't find it. He doesn't find it under his name, some nickname he would give him, and not under his recent calls. There's Kita, Aran, Suna, his parents, some more teammates from the volleyball club, and some names Osamu doesn't recognize at all. But no Atsumu.

What the hell?

Osamu opens LINE. Maybe they just don't call each other a lot when they're older? But there must be texts. There have to be.

Unfortunately, Osamu still can't find anything that could be a conversation with his brother which is insane and out of all things he had to take in this morning, this is the thing that's scaring him the most. 

Why can't he find Atsumu's contact information on this phone? Why aren't there any calls? Any texts? This isn't right, nothing about this is right.

Osamu exits LINE and opens the usual text app and scrolls through them. It's then that he finds a text conversation from apparently two months ago.

 

Mom said to get home by 8 next week for her birthday.

 

Fine.

 

It’s not a number that's saved on his phone and there are hardly any messages. In fact, they're all just informing each other about times and dates concerning family things. Nothing else.

It couldn't be. This couldn't be Atsumu. This has to be some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe it's just one of their other relatives. That's the only explanation.

Osamu opens the number and presses call because this can't possibly be Atsumu. Osamu's hands are shaking again because it just can't be.

It rings for a long time before someone picks up.

“Hello?”

Osamu grows cold. He knows that voice. He’d recognize it anywhere, even when it sounds a little different right now through the phone early in the morning.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

Atsumu doesn't have his number saved either. He didn't even recognize his number.

“It’s– it’s me,” he somehow gets out with a level voice even though he feels like losing his mind any second now. Maybe that's what they call ‘the calm before the storm.’

There's only silence coming from the other side of the line and for a second Osamu wonders if something's wrong with the connection when Atsumu finally speaks again.

“What’d ya want?” 

It's so weird. Osamu has heard Atsumu angry, has heard him annoyed, and has heard him upset. But he's never quite heard him speak in a tone like that. Osamu doesn't know what to say.

“Is it something with mom or dad? Can ya get to the point, I’m kinda busy.”

Osamu almost laughs because he doesn't even know about their parents in this reality. Osamu doesn't even know about himself. He's starting to freak out again.

“No, it's not that, I–”

“I’m pretty sure I told ya not to call me unless it's family shit. Anyway, bye then.”

Osamu's eyes widen. “No, wait–”

But the call was already cut. Atsumu hung up on him, just like that. He must have heard Osamu's nervous tone, right? The two of them always caught that in each other. They always did. Why did Atsumu hang up? Why wasn't his number saved on his phone? Why did he wake up in 2019 in Osaka without his brother anywhere near him?

Osamu finally completely freaks out.



It takes Osamu a while to calm down again, which should be understandable.

He can't recall a time he was ever freaked out this much his entire life, mainly because his life has been uneventful for the most part. Yesterday he was just a normal teenager, living his normal high school life, with his normal high school hobbies, and most importantly, with his brother by his side.

During his freak out, Osamu had started to look around the apartment to find any proof that what he's found out so far is wrong. That he didn't live a life without his twin brother in it, that Atsumu was just talking to him like that and hung up on him because they just had another stupid fight.

But his findings were sobering. 

He found photos of himself together with other people, some familiar, some unknown, but Atsumu was in none of them. He went through the photo gallery on his phone and there were so many photos and selfies but Atsumu wasn't in any of them. He found his social media handles but he wasn't even following or friends with Atsumu on them.

On his laptop were just files about work. Excel files filled with numbers and statistics he didn't understand, drafts for recipes, notes about some kind of a second branch that's planned for next year. Entirely unpersonal things.

Still, nothing with Atsumu.

This is what he managed to find out about himself: He is in fact the owner of a pretty successful Onigiri restaurant in a very good location in Osaka. His rice exclusively comes from Kita-senpai’s rice farm. He recently acquired a sponsor that would help him open up a second restaurant in Osaka. He's still in contact with most of his teammates from his high school volleyball days. Miya Osamu is a successful business owner and cook. Basically, his dream come true.

Now this is what he found out about Atsumu: He is the starting setter for MSBY Black Jackals, a division one team also based in Osaka. He's one of the top setters and servers of Japan. He's running a very successful Instagram account. He's living together with three other players: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Bokuto Koutarou, and Hinata Shouyou (of all people!) who are also on the same team as him. He's in the talks to me in the next draft for the national team. Basically, his dream come true.

The last photo he found of them together is from high school at their last nationals. Nothing after that. Apparently, in this reality something happened for them to fall out completely to the point that they don't speak to each other at all, unless it's family related.

Osamu found photos of the opening of his restaurant from a few years ago but Atsumu wasn't there. There's another photo of Osamu holding up what looks like a culinary magazine with his own face on the cover but Atsumu wasn't there. There are so many photos, a whole life, that Osamu is living but Atsumu just isn't there with him.

Osamu's going to be sick.

How could this even happen? How did it ever get this far? Yes, the two of them fight all the time, and yes sometimes Osamu gets sick of him but that's normal. That's just how they are, that's how siblings are. It doesn't mean he wants him out of his life. Atsumu is his twin, he's the person he understands more than he understands himself.

If this is a dream, no, if this is a nightmare, then I wanna wake up. Please just let me wake up.

Osamu sighs as he leans back on the couch and he looks at the time on his phone. It's only eight in the morning but he already wants to go back to bed. 

He doesn't even know what to do now? Is he stuck here? Five years of his life just poof, gone and lost? How is he supposed to run this restaurant when he doesn't remember anything about it? He couldn't even understand what those excel files said! 

His restaurant. Does he have to go there today? He probably does, right? What restaurant isn't open on a Sunday? What time does he even open?

He manages to find the website and it says that it doesn't open until 12 PM on Sundays. That's good. At least that gives him some time. Not that he would know how to open and run it for even a day. Can he call sick? But he's the boss! He must have staff, right? Yes, he can probably call one of them and let them know. 

Osamu opens the laptop again because he vaguely remembers seeing a file called ‘shift plan’ and he’s glad to see that there are three people supposed to come in today. One of them is called Sakiro Umi who's supposed to open with him so that's who he ends up calling.

(At least her contact is saved on his phone.)

Umi picks up after only half a ring.

“Good morning, Miya-san!!”

A loud and cheerful voice and maybe that wouldn't have bothered Osamu as much on any other day, but he's not really in the best of moods.

“Hey, sorry to call ya in the morning. I’m just lettin’ ya know that I can't come in today.”

“Oh no, are you sick, Miya-san? Is it serious? You rarely call in sick!”

Well, good to know he has a good work ethic. “Yeah, I kinda hate to do this to ya. Ya gonna be fine without me?” He really hopes he sounds like himself. He really has no idea what he's like in 2019.

“Yes, we’ll be fine! I hope you get better soon. Let me know if you can't come in tomorrow too. I can cover for you.”

Umi seems nice enough and Osamu wished he didn't have to lie to her like this, but it’s better this way. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.” Well he’s definitely calling in sick if he's still here in this twisted universe tomorrow. Just the thought actually makes him actually feel nauseous.

They end the phone call after that and it's a small weight of his shoulders, even if it's just temporary. Because now this leaves him alone in this apartment with nothing to do. No one to talk to. It's not like he can. Kita-senpai doesn't seem to live in Osaka since a rice farm sounds like something that can't be found downtown in a big city. Suna seems to be in Kyoto, also having gone pro. Same goes for Aran, except he’s in Tokyo. All of them far away. He doesn't know if future-him has other friends. Probably does, but it's not like he feels comfortable calling up any of them.

The only one that's also in Osaka is Atsumu but Osamu can't talk to him either. 

This is truly a nightmare. Is future-alternative-dimension him really happy like this? Because he's smiling on all the photos Osamu has found but he can't fathom how that could even be. How can you smile like that without Atsumu next to you?

It’s not like Osamu wanted to literally be by Atsumu's side his entire life. He already knew since he was sixteen that their paths would differ after high school. After all, they had a big fight about that too but they came to terms with it. Osamu wanted to pursue a culinary career, while Atsumu wanted to go pro. They fought about it, they made up, accepted it, and moved on. But even so, Osamu never wanted to erase Atsumu completely from his life.

When he imagined their future together, he saw himself going to watch Atsumu's matches. Maybe even have a food stall at the venue. He saw himself making food for his team as they came to his restaurant. He saw himself sometimes still playing, just casually during his free time, even with Atsumu together. He saw them in their respective paths but still undoubtedly close because that's what they were. Close. Brothers. Family. The most important person in Osamu's life, even when he never said that once out loud and Atsumu hasn't either, but they never needed to. They knew.

At least Osamu thought they did.

Not in this universe. Oh what a fucked up universe it is.

Osamu opens that pathetic text conversation again and stares at those impersonal messages. Stares at the number that isn't even saved as a contact.

Osamu starts to write.

I know you don't wanna talk to me but I don't really know what to do or who else to turn to. You probably won't believe this but yesterday I went to bed as a seventeen year old in our bunk bed and then I woke up today five years later and found out that we apparently don't speak anymore? I don't know anything about what happened in these five years. I don't know if I lived through them and forgot or if this is some seriously messed up dream but yesterday I was seventeen and we had a fight after practice and went home ignoring each other like we always did. And now I’m suddenly here and everything’s so messed up. Can't believe I’m saying this but I wish I could talk to you. Usually I don't have to say anything, usually you know but in this universe you're not by my side anymore and that messes me up, I think I’m losing it. I’m really losing it.

 

Osamu stares at the wall of text and he wishes he could hit send but he knows that it probably won't do him any good. Who knows, maybe this Atsumu even blocked him after he hung up. Just the thought gave Osamu a headache.

He’s about to exit out of the app when his phone vibrates in his hand, some LINE notification, and Osamu slightly jumps in surprise and his thumb accidentally presses down.

Osamu stares at his phone screen in horror. He pressed send. He sent that pathetic and borderline delirious message to his apparently now estranged brother. Nothing in this universe seemed to go right. Is there a way to delete it? Did technology advance enough to unsend messages? Maybe he can just throw his phone out of the window and ignore reality like he's been wanting to do so desperately ever since he woke up here.

The phone vibrates in his hand again, this time from an incoming call, and it's that unsaved number. It's Atsumu. 

Osamu gulps and considers ignoring it but what good would that do to him? He accepts the call and hesitantly puts the phone to his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Are ya fucking drunk? At 8 AM?”

Osamu almost laughs at Atsumu's confused voice. It's finally a tone he can recognize, something he knows.

“No,” he answers simply.

“Then what kinda text was that?”

“I didn't mean to send it.”

Atsumu doesn't reply right away. There's actually no sound coming through the line at all and Osamu wonders where Atsumu is. Is he at home? In that apartment he shares with three others?

“So, like, you're serious? Ya don't remember anything?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we have an English test tomorrow in school, so yeah. I’m serious.”

“Ya don't remember anything. Nothin’ that happened in the last five years?”

“Yeah, not a clue.”

“Fucking–” There's a string of curses, a loud sigh, the sounds of footsteps and a door opening ans closing. “That's crazy. Seriously, that's just insane.”

“But ya believe me?”

Again a pause. Again no sounds, one second. Two. “Yeah.”

Osamu feels like he could cry. “Sumu, what the hell happened?”

“Sumu, huh?” Osamu frowns. “Ya haven't called me that in years.”

Osamu can't even imagine that. “Can ya come over? Can we talk?”

Hesitation again. Silence again. “Yeah, fine. Send me yer address.”

“Ya don't know my address?”

“I’ve never been to yer place.”

Osamu feels a little sick again. “I’ll send ya the location.”

Neither of them know what else to say, it's awkward and weird, and they end the call. Osamu manages to send Atsumu a pin with his address and then he sits and waits. He doesn't know how long it will take Atsumu to get here, but Osaka is big.

He pulls himself up and enters his kitchen. He can at least make them breakfast.

 

It takes Atsumu around 45 minutes to get to his place.

Osamu feels anxious when the doorbell rings and he's never been nervous before to see his brother but this Atsumu is different. He's five years older and someone who hasn't been in contact with him for years.

Osamu already knows what he looks like from the photos he found online but it's still strange to see him in person.

His hair is still blonde, though it's even lighter than before and it's styled differently. He's taller too, definitely broader but that's to be expected from an athlete.

At least he looks just as nervous as Osamu which is somewhat of a relief.

“Hey,” Osamu greets him at his door and steps back to let him inside.

Atsumu quietly thanks him and takes off his shoes and the two of them look at each other without saying anything.

Osamu clears his throat. “Thanks for comin,”

“Sure,” Atsumu replies, looking at the ground and shrugs.

God, this is so awkward. Osamu can't recall a time when they’ve ever been like this, even after their worst fights.

“Um, come in. I made some food. I don't know if ya already ate.” Osamu walks back into the apartment and walks toward the kitchen island, sitting down on one side and motioning for Atsumu to join him.

Atsumu does, eventually, curiously looking around. “Nice place.”

Apparently they're going to keep up the awkward small talk. Alright then. “Uh, thanks? I don't remember anything about it.”

“Right. Ya have, like, amnesia or something. Where ya in an accident?”

Osamu shrugs. ”If I was then I don't remember. But I’m not hurt anywhere. I really don't know what’s going on. Yesterday we were seventeen and back at home and now we're suddenly twenty-two and in Osaka and apparently not on speaking terms.”

Atsumu grimaces. He grabs one of the onigiri between them and takes a bite. His eyes then slightly widen. “This is fatty tuna.”

“It's ya favorite.” It's not a question. Osamu knows it is and for a moment Atsumu just stares at the rice ball in his hands.

“We had a fight just before graduation. It was one of the really bad ones. Like, real bad. We started hitting each other and everything. It was a few days before I left home. I already secured a place with BJ, uh, my volleyball team. Anyway ya told me–” Atsumu stops, still staring at the rice ball in his hands. “Ya told me ya wish I could buzz out of ya life. I was angry as hell and told ya that I also didn't wanna see ya anymore. I don't think we really meant that.”

Osamu frowns, taking an onigiri off the plate himself. “And? We had fights like that all the time.”

Atsumu shrugs. “I don't know. It's difficult to explain. I had'ta leave before we could really make up. And when we saw each other again it was kinda awkward but instead of clearing the air we fought again. I don't even know about what. Mom and Dad were really upset about it too so we pretended to be okay again for them but pretty sure they knew we weren't.”

“After that it was like time and everything was playing against us. We always had’ta leave before we could make up like we used to. And it became awkward again. Even when ya came to Osaka too. Ya didn't tell me about the restaurant’s opening and I didn't tell ya about my debut match. We stopped telling each other things. We got moody and weird. And the more time passed, the worse it got. I hated it, and pretty sure ya hated it too but we didn't do anything. We just pretended a few times a year for Mom and Dad. It's like we forgot how to do it.”

Osamu put the food down again, and so did Atsumu. Apparently they both lost their appetite.

Atsumu finally looks up at him and Osamu isn't surprised when he sees tears pooling in his eyes.

“We forgot how to be together,” Atsumu finishes and Osamu feels his own eyes sting.

“Sumu–”

“Will we go back to before when ya get your memories? Are ya gonna disappear again? Because if so, I don't ever want ya to remember. That's horrible, but I don't want ya to remember how to live and be happy without me, Samu.” Atsumu is crying now, a tear running down his right cheek.

Osamu finally breaks and he has to brush his hand over his left cheek to hide it. “Sumu, I don't know about this Osamu but I don't think he was really that happy if ya weren't here.”

Atsumu lets out a shuddering breath and looks down again, his hand reaching for his half-eaten onigiri, shoving the rest of it into his mouth and chewing a little too aggressively.

“This is really good. Best fucking onigiri I ever had,” he says while crying and Osamu can't help but snort, even though he's kind of crying himself.

“Ya look so stupid, ya always were such an ugly crier.”

“Shut up, ya look just like me.”

Osamu doesn't know what they really went through, didn't experience all of the fights, the anger, or frustrations but just like always they made up. Just like that.

They eat the rest of the food and Atsumu stays and starts telling him about everything he’s missed. He tells him about his team, about living with his roommates, about his plays and matches. He tells Osamu about his crush on Hinata, tells Osamu about his surprising friendship with Sakusa and Bokuto. He tells him about joining the national team soon, tells him about everything that happened in the last five years. 

Osamu listens and soaks it all up. He doesn't have any stories to tell but he shows Atsumu the photos he found, and Atsumu confesses that he secretly kept up with him. Osamu is sure that his future-him did the same.

Atsumu ends up staying over and they end up in Osamu's bedroom. Osamu in his bed with Atsumu next to him like they're little kids again. It's been forever since they shared a bed.

“I’m scared to fall asleep,” Atsumu confesses. “What if ya remember everything tomorrow and we go back to before.”

“Whatever. Just punch me in the face and make up with me.”

Atsumu laughs but Osamu knows he’s still worried.

Osamu is scared too. Scared of both remembering and not remembering. But a little less scared than this morning because at least Atsumu's by his side.

 

The next morning, Osamu doesn't wake up from an alarm. He just wakes up from the sun shining right into his face.

He turns onto his stomach and buries his face into his pillow, wishing it away but he knows he won't be able to fall asleep.

He turns on his back again and forces his eyes open, blinking several times until his surroundings get clearer.

He stares up and sees the bottom of Atsumu's bed. 

He’s in his bunk bed again.

Immediately he is wide awake and Osamu stands up, ignoring how his limbs scream in protest, still stiff from sleep and he looks at the top bunk.

Atsumu is lying there comfortably, still dead to the world, still seventeen.

Osamu grabs his phone and looks at the date. August 07, 2014.

Atsumu turns in his sleep and Osamu–

Osamu is so glad to be here with him.