Chapter Text
extra
Yuuma was going to murder his cousin, and not for the usual reasons. No, Raiga had gone too far this time, and Yuuma was going to string him up by the toes.
"It's not my fault!" the liar shouted the moment he saw Yuuma advancing on his table wielding a broomstick. "It's Miyu, she's the one that hit the volleyball—ow! Ow, watch it, yer gonna make me dislocate one of my joints—"
"You think I don't know exactly how hard I can hit ya without gettin' yer hyper mobility to act up?" Yuuma shouted back, relentlessly whacking the alpha boy with the straw-end of the broom. "Ya think I'm blind? I saw you spike that volleyball into the TV just now—do you know how fucking expensive it's gonna be to replace that? Huh?" Another whack. "Really expensive! 'Cause ya got TV parts in the fresh fruit bar and we're gonna hafta to throw it all away 'cause it's a health hazard!"
"Ow! Miyu, Mayu, don't just stand there—"
"But you did break the TV," Miyu pointed out, sipping at her peach soda at the table she and Mayu always sat at. The twin girls had been smart enough to sit far away from Miya Human Disaster Raiga and were now watching Yuuma brutally assault their brother without a single ounce of sympathy. "Uncle Osamu already told ya you weren't allowed ta bring a volleyball into the restaurant—"
"—but ya did it anyway," Mayu said. "And ya knew Uncle Rin's last training episode's airin' tonight—"
"—so today's the worst day you could'a broken it," Miyu finished. "So you deserve to get hit."
"Traitors! This is physical assault! Somebody help me!" Raiga dashed away like the bitch-ass coward he was and hid beneath his sisters' table. Yuuma briefly fantasized dragging the boy out and shoving shards of broken machinery down his throat, but the fact of the matter was, Dad expected Yuuma to have the bar area prepped before Onigiri Miya opened for the dinner rush. With the mess of not only the broken television but also the mounting system holding it into the wall above the bar, Yuuma should have started cleaning it yesterday. Taking a deep breath, he turned and stormed back towards the counter.
Halfway through aggressively sweeping broken TV shards into the dust pan, Raiga slunk back out while awkwardly holding a trash bag.
"This entire tray from here to here," Yuuma instructed before Raiga could waste time fumbling through not-apologies. "First wrap it all in butcher paper and then toss it in the trash bag, or the glass will just slice through the liner."
To his credit, Raiga was actually a meticulous cleaner. All his cousins were, as a side-effect of their father's absolutely insane cleaning standards; with bonus incentive for Raiga because lab workers were expected to keep their work stations absolutely spotless. Outside of his own home and his internship, however, Raiga never took the initiative to clean unless he was forced to. It drove Yuuma crazy, because if there was one place that needed as much cleaning as a lab, it was a goddamn restaurant where people ate food.
"I think there's enough time ta run over to our place and grab our TV," Miyu eventually offered.
"If ya wanna watch on a big screen and not yer phone," Mayu added.
"Or you can ask Uncle to close Onigiri Miya early, and we can head to ours ta watch," Raiga finally said, shrinking back at Yuuma's glare.
A cowed Raiga meant an apologetic Raiga, and knowing his cousin was aware of how much he'd fucked up soothed Yuuma's temper just a little. Very little.
It wasn't like arguing between them was anything new. They'd been squabbling since they were in diapers. They kept being placed in the same class and were therefore unable to avoid one another at home or at school.
They’d had to resort to working out their grievances towards each other out on the volleyball court, which worked until they both stopped playing in high school. With Yuuma spending all his time after school helping his dad around the restaurant and Raiga at his hospital internship, they just didn't have the time to play seriously.
Yuuma should've known it'd only be a matter of time before their annoyances spilled over and Raiga did something stupid, like spike a volleyball into the restaurant television.
"What happened to the TV?" Dad said when he returned to Onigiri Miya after a quick trip up to the Kita rice farm to go over this season's crop. Yuuma had been incredibly grateful Dad let him stay at the restaurant to help with prep instead of tagging along. Having to stand in the same room as the beautiful alpha girl Chinatsu was terrible for Yuuma's simping omega heart. It was mortifying, and Yuuma didn't like being mortified.
If he'd known Raiga and the twins would barge in halfway through, however, maybe it would have been better for him to suffer through that indignity instead.
"Raiga," Yuuma said.
"Raiga-nii," the twins confirmed.
"Technically true, but there were extenuating factors—" Raiga tried, but stopped when Dad rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. The alpha boy curled into himself in shame. "But fine. Yeah. It was me."
Dad looked as if he was having war flashbacks to Uncle Atsumu's shenanigans during their youth.
"Yer cleanin' the bathrooms tonight," Dad finally said. Raiga groaned and let his head fall onto the table with a defeated thunk. Dad focused his attention on Miyu and Mayu still sipping at their sodas at the window table. "Girls, why haven't you changed into your waitress uniforms yet?"
"Left 'em at home," Miyu said.
"Then go and get it?" Dad tilted his head. "Though if yer gonna head home anyway, can ya steal 'Tsumu's TV so we don't miss Rin's episode?"
"That's what we suggested to Yuuma-nii," Miyu said smugly, hopping onto her feet and shouldering her volleyball duffle bag. "'Cause he got sooo mad when the TV broke."
"He really wanted to watch Uncle Rin's last episode," Mayu said.
"And then Raiga-nii ruined it."
"I wasn't mad because of the episode," Yuuma snapped, hackles rising. "I don't care what Rin does on TV! I'm mad because Raiga made a mess and wasted a shit ton of money!"
"Liar!" both girls called out, then ran out the front door before Yuuma could grab the broom and beat them over the heads with it too.
He ignored Dad's stare boring holes into the side of his head and went back to refilling the fresh fruit bar with more precision than necessary.
"Yuu," Dad started.
"I don't care," Yuuma snapped, voice more emotional than he'd like. But Raiga had gone to carry out his punishment in the bathrooms and Dad already knew all his secrets. So what did it matter if he sounded emotional? "Oh look, another episode where Rin swoops in as a volleyball consultant and turns something good into something great. Fine, whatever. Glad to know he's havin' fun out there spending time without us. Again."
Dad sighed. At this point, Yuuma had already heard all of Dad's explanations and arguments and excuses: that Rin valued his independence and liked to travel; that he was incredibly sharp and was always seeking to evolve his volleyball knowledge despite being retired; that he still called every night because no matter how long he spent away from home, he loved Yuuma and Dad with all his heart.
"Then why doesn't he stay?" Yuuma had bit out during an argument in middle school. "If he loves us so much, why does he spend so much time away?"
Being a former professional volleyball player wasn't an excuse. Not even being a former Olympic volleyball player passed scrutiny. Uncle Atsumu and Kiyoomi were both of those things, and they managed to settle down in Osaka after retiring to raise their kids like halfway-decent parents should. It made Rin's absence even worse, because the Miya cousins had spent their early childhood during the volleyball season raised mostly by Dad and their grandparents. Dad still had grounding power over Raiga despite him only being his uncle, for Pete's sake. But while their parents eventually came back into their lives once their volleyball careers ended, Yuuma's... didn't.
Not for good, the way Yuuma had always yearned for.
"You and your mother are so alike," Dad said. Yuuma had to tamp down the instinctual outrage he felt at that declaration. "Always suspicious and imaginin' the worst. Just watch today's episode, alright? You can yell at 'im all you want later when he calls, like you always do."
Yuuma scowled at the way Dad phrased that, like his hissing and arguing was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. Then again, with Rin's general nonchalance at all of Yuuma's indignant antics, it may as well have been. He hadn't even reacted when Yuuma stopped calling him 'Mom' and started referring to him by name. The older omega had simply shrugged and said, "I did give birth to you and I am your parent, but I'm not specifically attached to the concept of motherhood. I think 'Samu wanted to be your mom more than I did."
"Stop, don't confuse him," Dad had said flatly as middle-schooler Yuuma fumed at his failed attempt at insult.
"It's not confusing, he's thirteen. That's plenty old enough to learn more about gender identity—"
"It's confusing because that isn't the point he's trying to make." Dad interrupted. "Which you're aware of. Y'can't play the same games with him as you do with me, it ain't fair."
Of course it wasn't fair; Yuuma was thirteen and Rin was a grown-ass adult. But that was just how Rin was to everyone regardless of their age.
Yuuma didn't know why Dad thought watching his episode would somehow change his mind about Rin's character, but whatever. Unless Rin suddenly dropped everything and came home without any plans to leave again, he didn't want to hear it.
Still, when the time came and one of the twins began herding him towards the television awkwardly balanced on the bar counter, Yuuma didn't put up a fight.
--
(Yuuma hadn't had to deal with forced-societal bullshit until he and Raiga entered elementary school.
When the other kids learned that his dad was his primary caregiver, they'd assumed his mother was dead or that his parents were divorced. When they'd learned his mother was instead choosing to spend a good portion of the year three hours away in Nagano rather than staying in Osaka being a good mother, however, people began to talk.
Didn't Miya Osamu make good money running his own restaurant downtown? Why would his mate even need to travel so far just to work, especially with such a young pup at home? Doesn't he know children needed their mother's love? Did he just not care?
Yuuma did his best impression of an icy, deaf statue in the face of the other kids' whispering. He'd gone home and dutifully repeated each question to Rin during their daily facetime call, at which point his mother answered: "I don't work because of the money, I do it because I like playing volleyball. I want to play with the best, and playing with the Raijins let's me do that. If you and Osamu could come with me to Nagano things would be perfect, but your father's business and your extended family are all in Osaka. So we have to compromise. It doesn't matter where I am or where you are, my feelings for you and Osamu won't change. Of course I care, if I didn't care, I wouldn't call."
"But do you love us?" Yuuma demanded, his child-like mind unable to move past the most important piece of gossip going over his head. "Ya hafta say you love us, Mommy."
Rin's expression on the phone screen softened. Dad, who always pretended he wasn't in the room whenever he let Yuuma speak to Rin 'alone,' bit his lip while awaiting Rin's answer.
"Of course I love you two, Yuuma. Don't ever let anyone make you doubt that."
Having received his reassurances and answers from his mother, Yuuma began ignoring the gossip for real. Raiga, on the other hand, had gone on a rampage yelling at their classmates that they weren't allowed to just pick on Yuuma, because if they picked on Yuuma then they had to pick on Raiga too.
It was his standard brand of perplexing Raiga-logic and, annoyingly enough given that the matter was already settled, it worked. Yuuma's angry retribution was cold, vicious and hit when one least expected it. It was too subtle for most first-graders to pick up on, and so they thought Yuuma was fair game for bullying.
Raiga, on the other hand, bit people.
"Yer not even gonna thank me, Yuu?" Raiga demanded later like he had done Yuuma a tremendous favor. Since Uncle Atsumu and Uncle Kiyoomi stayed out at the Jackal's late into the night, all the Miya children would congregate at Onigiri Miya after school so Dad or Granmama could look after them.
"I didn't ask you to bite Biran for saying stupid things," Yuuma told Raiga crossly. "And if Uncle Kiyoomi finds out, he's gonna be so mad."
"She shouldn't even be saying stupid things! We're Miyas! Ya can't just let 'em walk all over you like that, Yuuma!" Raiga scrunched up his nose. "And—um, and most blood bugs can't spread through eatin' blood. 'Cause the stomach juices melt 'em! So Dad won't care."
Gross. How Raiga could be so interested and know so much about his dad's medical clinician work yet also be so... blase about doing unhygienic things, Yuuma didn't know. More Raiga-logic, probably. Whatever. The problem was solved, so they should just move on with their lives.
Except it wasn't.
Because Yuuma couldn't help but notice that, despite his mother's reassurances, there was something fundamentally different about Rin being home and the three of them doing things like a real family should. Not the fake way families looked in the movies, but the real way his classmates and their parents would act whenever he saw them on the street.
He couldn't help but be acutely aware of the missing space on his other side whenever Dad took him to the zoo on his own. Everyone else had both their parents ooh-ing and aah-ing at all the exotic animals in their pens; and while Dad was great, Yuuma wanted more.
The next time Rin came home, Yuuma clung to him every moment he could. He wanted Rin to go with them on all the outings he and Dad would go on by themselves: to the park, to the zoo, to the mall where his parents bickered over whether or not Rin needed the newest model of phone when he was enough of a menace with his current one. Yuuma happily skipped between them with one hand in each of theirs, soaking up their presence like a starved sponge.
Even during small moments when Dad was busy at the restaurant and Rin looked after him alone, life seemed brighter. Rin would take Yuuma out to the grocery store and let him sit in the main body of the shopping cart, which Dad never let him do. He'd hold different food options up to him and let Yuuma decide which brand to pick, which flavor to choose, and then he'd think of what kind of lunch he'd make from there. Rin wasn't as good a cook as Dad, of course, but he also wasn't so much of a perfectionist that he forbade Yuuma from helping out. He never stopped Yuuma from adding and mixing random ingredients, not even when the resulting lunch was barely edible and Rin had to break out the cup noodles he hid in the back of the pantry away from Dad's nutrition-oriented eyes.
The biggest difference between speaking to Rin over the phone every day and having him here in person at home was how Rin would heft Yuuma on his hip and let him snuggle into his neck as he wandered around the apartment. No matter how good technology was, there wasn't a way to transmit scent across vast distances. Even Dad smelled different with Rin home, and Yuuma didn't want his mother to leave.
Yet like every time he could remember, just as Yuuma started to become accustomed to having his mother around after months of waking up to his parents arguing over breakfast—volleyball season started up again. It felt worse than if Rin just never came home, or if he only came home for a few days at a time. He always stayed just long enough for Yuuma's puppy instincts to think 'this is it, this is what I want, all of us together' before having that idealistic dream pulled out from under his feet.
Yuuma would sob uncontrollably when it came time for Rin to go.
In those early years, it was back to Nagano to play with the EJP Raijins. Later on, during late elementary school and all of middle school, it was him going back on his volleyball consulting circuit.
In hindsight, Yuuma knew as a puppy that he was instinctively more attached to his mother's presence; that his out-of-character tantrums were the result of Rin going against his very biology and leaving Yuuma behind.
He knew that now, but back then, he couldn't help but feel ashamed at his own inability to control his tears.
"I-I don't want you to g-go," he'd wail despite knowing full well that crying did no good. "I don't—"
"I know, kit," Rin said, hefting Yuuma into his arms and smothering him in his omega scent. Yuuma whimpered and curled into a ball against his chest. "I know. But this is who I am, just as this is who you are. You can hate me all you want for my choices, as long as you're true to yourself. I'll never hate you for that."
As if baby Yuuma had any idea what Rin meant, throwing around the word 'hate' when there was no universe where he'd hate his mother. He didn't want to hear about hate. He wanted to hear Rin say he loved them, that he missed them, but even as a child he knew Rin wasn't the type to say such things without prompting. Yuuma didn't want to ask, though. He was terrified of hearing the wrong answer, even when he'd never heard Rin answer wrong before.
As Yuuma grew older, he understood a little more about how Rin could bear to let him go. Omegas were far more bound to their instincts than betas were, but leaving Yuuma with Dad gave him a stable environment to grow up in. The entire Miya clan was here, their greater friend network was here, Dad's business was here. While Rin did well either on his own or with company, Dad was a far more socially-dependent person. Instinctually, he may have been less affected than Rin, but on every other level he would have been heartbroken if Rin took Yuuma with him to Nagano every season.
It was only when Rin retired and still refused to stay home that Yuuma's fear morphed into the sharp-tongued games he and Rin would play over their phone conversations. Worse, Rin had stayed for an entire year after retiring, giving Yuuma his greatest hope yet—only to then pick up consulting and leave again.
Still, Yuuma did not hate him. Even when he'd stopped calling Rin 'Mom,' it was less about hate and more about testing Rin's limits. Yuuma was self-aware enough to know own personality and stubbornness came directly from Rin. If anyone tried to tie Yuuma down somewhere out of obligation, he would have hated every minute of it. He would have refused to do so entirely. Not because he hated whomever he was obligated towards, but because he knew himself better than anyone.
Forcing Rin to stay home with them all year round when Rin treasured his independence would've been the cruelest thing they could have done to him. It would have broken their family apart faster than Yuuma's little tantrums over Rin's continued absences. Yuuma knew that. But that didn't invalidate Yuuma's own resentment.
No, as Rin said, if he got to choose his own path, then Yuuma was just as owed his choice to begrudge him for it.)
--
Rin technically worked for the Japanese Volleyball Association as a strategy consultant, though he was only required to show up when an international tournament was upon them. Left to his own devices, Rin worked as a freelancer that often spent time with a team here, a season with a team there. Whoever paid him enough money and had enough players with potential, basically.
That was how things worked since he'd retired from playing professionally, until last year when another JVA employee Kuroo Testurou suggested running a short episodic series on some Division 1 consulting cases to promote volleyball amongst the Japanese youth. A kind of 'behind the scenes' with former Olympic middle-blocker Suna Rintarou acting as the impromptu host, which was hilarious because Rin did not like being the center of attention.
Unfortunately for him, the omega's reluctance to allow the camera crew to follow him around only seemed to make the audience like him more. The mini-series was supposed to be only two or three episodes long of Rin going around roasting professional volleyball players like they were misbehaving pups, but Kuroo had somehow convinced both the JVA and Rin to extend it up to eight episodes.
This one was the 'finale,' though Yuuma wouldn't be surprised if Kuroo had worked his magic and convinced Rin to keep the show going for a season two. Any excuse to stay away from home, right?
He sank into his chair as he watched Rin dryly rip through this team's star ace on the borrowed television screen. Kuroo, who often acted as a co-host, nodded along as Rin basically said the ace was good but his ego was getting in the way, and that his attitude towards the second-string players was starting to sow discord within the team. He then called the team's lead omega out for being too chicken-shit to step in like he should have, at which point Rin decided to have a word with the disgruntled alpha himself.
If the guy expected his mother to cow under his angry alpha scent, he had another thing coming. There were dozens of memes online screenshotting Rin's flat, unimpressed expression across the various episodes, with bonus snickering Kuroo in the background.
"You tell 'im, Uncle Rin!" one of the twins shouted at the television. "Tear that knothead down a peg!"
"Miyu," Dad called out from behind the counter. "Stop shouting, we've got customers tryin' to enjoy their dinner."
"Oh, it's no problem, dear," one of their regulars, an old beta woman who often came in with her grandson, chuckled. "That's your omega on the television, aint it? 'Course your family's gonna be excited watching 'im."
"It's the eighth episode, they should'a learned to rein it in a bit by now," Dad said. He picked up the tray Miyu was ignoring in favor of watching the television and served the two plates of onigiri to the woman and her grandson himself. "And it doesn't give 'em the excuse to use slurs."
"Knothead's not a slur!" Mayu came to her twin's defense. "I mean, insults like 'bitch' and 'fuckboy' are gender specific too—"
"Dynamic-specific insults aren't welcome in this establishment," Dad said. Mayu and Miyu pouted at him. "Ya don't see Rin callin' him names now, do you?"
"Well yeah," Miyu huffed. "'Cause he's on national television."
Things on the show went about the same as Yuuma had come to expect, and by the time Rin had begrudgingly approved of the efforts each problem-person were making to strengthen their team, Yuuma was ready for their renewal announcement.
He was therefore blindsided when the camera cut to Rin and Uncle Atsumu sitting in the MSBY Black Jackals' main training center.
"Mom! It's Mom!" the twins shouted gleefully, as surprised as Yuuma was. Even Raiga stopped filling out his lab report to rush over and see what was happening. The only person not surprised to see Miya Atsumu was Dad, which meant Dad had to have known.
Yuuma then realized that them sitting in the MSBY Black Jackals' center meant Rin was back in Osaka, but before he could parse through what that meant, Uncle Atsumu opened his mouth: "Hey everyone, former Olympic setter and Division 1 player Miya Atsumu here! Y'know, I still can't believe y'all wanted to watch this wet noodle for three episodes, much less eight, but who am I to judge? You've got Sunarin scrambling all across Japan—"
"Get to the point," Rin said.
"I'm providing context!"
"If you don't get to the point, Kuroo's just going to cut you off, there's only a limited amount of time at the end of a segment—"
Indeed, there was a sharp cut jumping to the two facing the camera again, Atsumu now refocused. "—so what I'm sayin' is, the JVA's decided to move onto a longer team-focused format! Every episode focusing on a different season and a different team is just a li'l too short, y'know? Where's the drama? The intrigue? The—okay fine, I'll make it shorter. The first four-episode mini series is gonna focus on my old home team! The MSBY Black Jackals! And you'll be following each team's in-house consultant, not this uppity outsider. Which for the Jackals is me!" Rin snorted as Atsumu spread out his arms. "Now I know a lot of ya like tunin' in to see this guy, but trust me, us in-house advisors have got some tricks up our sleeves too! We've been workin' with these guys for years, after all!"
"What this moron can't say in a single sentence," Rin finally interrupted, ignoring Atsumu's squawking, "is that I'm retiring as the host of this mini-series. Thank you all for tuning in and watching my suffering. If you're interested in any of the teams I've covered, I'm pretty sure the JVA is planning to give each of them one of these team-based seasons. What? Oh. They're running a poll on their website now for who to cover next after the Black Jackals. No, I'm not reading the entire weblink out loud—"
What followed was a short trailer of some footage of the Black Jackals. Some cool action shots of the current line-up, some dramatic angles of coaches lecturing the players, and a brief shot of Uncle Kiyoomi treating wounds as the in-house clinician that had his cousins shouting a second time.
Yuuma could only sit there frozen in his seat, his mind still reeling over Rin's announcement that he was retiring as a host—that his last film location had clearly been at the Jackals' center in Osaka—that Dad had wanted them to watch today's episode—
"Wow, did it really break your brain that much, kit?" Yuuma jumped when he heard a familiar voice say over his shoulder.
He whirled around and tried smacking the voice's owner, a move that failed miserably because Rin was a former pro-volleyball player who kept himself in shape. His mother, Rin. The one that wasn't supposed to be back just yet but was inexplicably was.
Yuuma hissed when the man just ruffled his hair like he was six and not sixteen—god, he must have been tamping down his scent on purpose to jump-scare him, why was Rin such a bastard—before ducking behind the counter. He scooped Dad up around the waist and lifted him off the ground.
"Jesus—Rin, stop!" Dad protested, rice paddle in one hand and a half-formed onigiri in the other. His laughter undermined his words however, and so Rin twirled him around a few times before finally setting him down. The omega was even wearing the same jersey he'd worn in the episode just now, like he'd simply stepped out of the television screen and into Onigiri Miya's dining area. "Ya just saw me yesterday, what're all the dramatics for?"
"You came back yesterday?" Yuuma demanded, because it was one thing for Rin to be hiding at the Jackals gym but it was another if he'd actually come home without Yuuma knowing. "And you didn't tell me?"
"See, I told you he wouldn't appreciate the surprise," Rin told Dad, who reluctantly stepped out of his hold to go set down his paddle and onigiri. "Why did it matter if he saw the episode first? I could've just told him in person."
"No, it being televised was important," Dad insisted. He washed his hands and wiped them while giving Yuuma a knowing glance that had him squirming. "'Cause everyone in Japan watchin' heard ya, Rin. Yuuma knows you can't back out of it now."
Rin raised a brow. "When have I ever backed out of anything?"
"That's not the point—"
"So what? You're not on the show anymore, but you're still consulting, right?" Yuuma interrupted, hands balling into fists. The easy air between his parents infuriated him. This wasn't—why was Dad always—he stood up abruptly, his chair making an ugly screeching noise as he shoved it back. "Stop acting like this is all some big change! You're still planning to leave again, cameras on or not, so just stop it."
"Did Atsumu infect you with his denial virus or something?" Rin said, and Yuuma grabbed the closest object—Raiga's notebook—and flung it at the man. Rin let it hit him square in the chest. "Yuu—"
"I—" Yuuma ignored the strange looks the customers were giving him, because why was he ruining this heartwarming family reunion? Even Dad looked a little concerned. The only person who seemed completely unsurprised was Rin, and that fact made him even angrier. "I need some time to myself. Raiga can take over for me."
"Hey, don't—" Raiga protested, but Yuuma turned and fled into the kitchen and up the stairs to their apartment without looking back.
--
(The only time Rin had ever delayed his season circuit was, ironically enough, just after Yuuma had started calling him 'Rin' instead of 'Mom.' Not that he stuck to that sign of teenage rebellion, sobbing into his pillow as his insides felt like they were turning inside out.
"Hurts," he thrashed, soaking through his sheets and comforter with sweat despite how he shivered. "It hurts, Mom, make it stop—"
Rin had doted on him in a way he hadn't done since Yuuma was very, very little.
He spent as much time as he could during the three days of Yuuma's presentation hell by his side. Yuuma vaguely remembered Dad fluttering around, but his memory was mostly filled with impressions of himself in Rin's lap desperately breathing in that mellow-sweet scent to take the edge off his pain. Dad's beta scent wasn't strong enough to affect him, but Rin's omega scent was.
Of course this was just one more area he'd take after his mother. Everyone knew omega males went through the roughest presentations.
His most important memory of the whole fiasco didn't take place during his presentation, but after. Yuuma had finally fallen into a fitful sleep once his fever broke. As he began returning to consciousness, he could hear his parents arguing over whether Rin should take the coming season off or not.
"He's an omega, Rin! He needs you!" Dad hissed, so honestly angry it shocked Yuuma awake. He sat up slowly and strained his ears to hear more. "I can't—this is one area I can't help him with, you know that right? Especially right after he's presented, when emotions run the most wild—he needs you, Rin!"
"I'm still going to call every night," Rin said quietly, earning himself a frustrated snarl from Dad. Clearly lacking self-preservation, he pressed on in the same measured voice, "Osamu, look at me. Look at me. Of course you're capable, that hasn't changed just because he presented. This isn't like Atsumu's presentation, where no one but his pair could've done anything to help. You're the parent who's kissed his scrapes and soothed his nightmares. You're the one he's going to trust to settle him down, not me. And if there is something you can't handle, we can work it out over the phone. Either you alone or the both of you. I'm not leaving you high and dry, Osamu. Even if I'm across the country, I'll give as much as I can."
"Well what if I need you, Rin?" Dad whispered. "If you won't stay for Yuuma, won't you stay for me?"
A heavy pause.
"...are you asking me to choose, 'Samu?" Rin's tone was unreadable. Yuuma's tired body still had enough energy to lurch at the quiet sound of Dad swallowing down a sob. Dad never cried. He was always the one who comforted others crying, even Uncle Atsumu, which was how Yuuma recognized the sound to begin with. That hitched breath sounded exactly like his uncle.
"No," Dad finally said. He sounded resigned. "I'm not, Rin. I'm just askin'."
In the end, Rin could only spare them one more day.
He helped clean Yuuma up in the bath and gave him a dry, somewhat mortifying rundown on basic omega etiquette and behavior because 'that damned Atsumu still doesn't know how to act properly, late bloomer reactionary pair anomaly that he is.' He left his mellow scent all over the apartment and especially on Dad's clothes and all their bedding, and thirteen-year old Yuuma would've found it all unbearably embarrassing if his newly awakened omega side weren't buzzing with dread over their lead omega, their mother, leaving them at their weakest moment.
Dad may have accepted Rin giving him an extra twenty-four hours to calm down, but Yuuma wasn't nearly as forgiving.
Early the next morning, Rin packed up his things and left. When he called to check up on them that night through Facetime, Yuuma had gone back to calling him 'Rin.')
--
Yuuma was forcefully cuddling their cat Moto when he heard his mother come upstairs. His light footsteps were unmistakable compared to Dad's heavier tread.
Rather than take a seat in the empty armchair across the coffee table from the boy, Rin chose to squish himself onto the couch beside him. Yuuma hissed and tried to shove him away, but even angry and upset he wavered at his mother's mellow-sweet scent. Rin took advantage of the opening to wrap an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug.
"Stop," Yuuma finally used his words like a human being, letting go of Moto in favor of trying to yank Rin's arm off of him. Suna Rintarou was not a naturally touchy man. He was very much like Uncle Kiyoomi in that way: standoffish and bodily removed, who only deemed those they loved the most worthy of physical affection. Which meant no one fucking believed him whenever Yuuma complained about Rin manhandling him into forced hugs, even if that was Rin's go-to method to piss Yuuma off. "I said stop, let me go!"
"You should stop worrying 'Samu with all your teenage angst," Rin answered, not giving an inch. "He thinks he's messed things up by suggesting we keep my return from you until after the show aired."
"He did mess up!" Yuuma spat. "I hate secrets and surprises and you messed up too for just lettin' 'im convince ya otherwise—"
"But now you're more angry at him than you are at me," Rin pointed out. Yuuma stopped struggling and glared. "'Cause he knows you'll forgive him easier than you'll forgive me. So it's 'Samu's win this time, even if you are making him go gray with all your bitching."
"I get it from you, Mom," Yuuma declared, voice goading. Rin did not fall for the bait. No matter how he tested him, Rin never turned the full brunt of his sharp tongue upon his son in anger.
Only once Yuuma's scent settled down did Rin allow him to wriggle out of his hold and sink back into the couch. Turning his head away, Yuuma rubbed his arms and said. "...you're not joining the Jackals as a consultant. If you were, Uncle Atsumu would've thrown a fit about it over social media."
"Which is why he's going to have a blast hosting this new season while I'm savoring my escape. I'd give my left kidney not to have my face smothered in baby powder to 'hide my oiliness' every five seconds anymore. I hate the smell of baby powder."
"Good thing you only ever had one baby," Yuuma snarked.
"Well why would I want any more when I've got you?" Rin said matter-of-factly, like Yuuma was anywhere close to special. Yuuma still flushed, even as Rin moved on like everything was normal. "No, I'm going to focus more on local high school programs. The JVA thinks that now I've caught the attention of the overall public, I'll have more success dealing with high schoolers. I don't know what gives them the idea that I can handle high schoolers, but if it gets me off air and back in Osaka then I couldn't care less."
"So you wanted to come back to Osaka specifically. Startin' to feel bad about making Dad do all the parenting around here?"
"No, I'm coming back because I want to."
"Why? Ya never wanted to come back before."
"What does that have to do with me wanting to now?" Rin said, his voice and scent both calm like still waters. "Teaching high schoolers means settling down in an area long-term. The people I love the most are in Osaka. Why wouldn't I choose to come back?"
Yuuma's next snappy retort died in his mouth. The people I love the most are in Osaka.
Rin hated admitting he had feelings just as much as Yuuma did. Hating them didn't mean being unable to process them though. With just one phrase, Rin had cut to the heart of Yuuma's insecurities and soothed them all in one fell swoop.
Sniffling, Yuuma slowly leaned into Rin's side and finally let his mother's omega scent wash over shoulders and settle him down. Dad may be classically warm and dependable, but there was something innately different about being soothed by another omega. It had been Rin's scent that had helped him the most during his first presenting heat, and it had been the absence of that scent that had Dad so worried over Yuuma he'd begged Rin to stay.
(It only took a few months after he'd presented to prove Rin's reassurances correct. Even without his mother's scent, a combination of Dad, Granmama and even Uncle Atsumu were enough to keep his newly birthed inner omega in line.
That didn't mean anything to Yuuma, though. He hadn't wanted Rin around to fulfill some purpose. He wanted him around because he'd missed him. Despite all the anger and games and biting declarations, Yuuma had never stopped missing him.)
"So," Rin interrupted the silence, voice sounding almost bored. Yuuma was close enough to read his scent, though. He wasn't bored; he was indulgent. "Heard you refused to visit the Kita farm with Osamu today."
"The restaurant needed prep," Yuuma muttered.
"Oh really?"
"Yes really!"
"So it had nothing to do with Chinatsu helping Kita out around the farm now that she's graduated high school?"
"No," Yuuma insisted a little too quickly. The corner of Rin's lips curled upwards, mortifying him into repeating, "No it doesn't! Chinna's too old for me anyway!"
"I'm surprised she's your type," Rin ignored him like the devil he was. "You take after me so strongly, I wouldn't have guessed a dominant alpha like Chinatsu would catch your eye. Must be 'Samu's masochistic side bleeding through."
"Mom, stop!" Yuuma jerked upright, cheeks flaming. "I don't need to hear that, oh my god! Why would you say that? Are you torturin' me? Yer punishin' me for making a scene?"
Rin just laughed, which meant he was torturing him. Yuuma hissed, which only made Rin laugh harder, and when he tried fleeing off the couch his mother grabbed him around the waist and refused to let him escape with his dignity.
Most people found their games strange and alarming, but like the children at his elementary school, most people simply didn't understand.
In a lot of ways, Rin was the only person in the world who saw and accepted Yuuma's prickly sense of self. Dad was a close second, but Rin had the advantage of possessing a prickly sense of self too. If only he'd come home sooner. Rin's retirement from his traveling circuit when Yuuma was already sixteen felt a lot like too little too late.
"You think sixteen is old?" Rin said dryly when Yuuma pointed this out. "Please, kit. You're still a puppy throwing fits when reality doesn't go your way. You're light-years away from being too old to learn. Hell, just ask your Uncle Kiyoomi. Doesn't matter how old you get, I'm always going to be your mother." Rin flicked Yuuma's forehead lightly and smirked when Yuuma wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Before Yuuma could retaliate, however, Rin pulled him close. "And no matter what, I'll always love you."
--
"What, you spring a presumptuous surprise on mini-Rin and didn't expect him to... y'know. React like Rin does and throw a hissy fit?" Atsumu drawled at Osamu downstairs, finding the drama he and Omi had come across when they came by to fetch their progeny endlessly entertaining. Instead of doing the proper thing and ushering Raiga and the twins back home, the omega plopped his ass onto a bar stool and demanded a drink and a rice ball.
Osamu was tempted to refuse, but he knew causing a ruckus down here could undermine Rin's attempt to calm Yuuma down upstairs.
Instead, he summoned all the patience he'd developed over the last decade to make a face at his own twin's verbal prodding. "It made him redirect his attention at me instead of Rin, didn't it? He’s not actually mad at Rin." He finished wiping one counter and began working on the next. "No matter how gently Rin could've broken him the news, he would've found some excuse to cast doubt and suspicion on his motivations. But if I'm the one he needs to target, he's a lot less likely to hold a grudge."
"You do get more of a pass whenever Yuuma gets pissy," Atsumu allowed, spinning the little plastic stick in his cocktail. "More chances to make it up to him, for starters. Though I don't know about the 'not actually mad at Rin' thing. He certainly smelled mad. Didn't he smell mad to ya, Omi?"
Kiyoomi, who'd thankfully chosen to drink bottled water like a halfway responsible adult, considered the question carefully.
"No," he finally answered, ignoring Atsumu sputtering at him about being a brother-siding traitor. "He's... upset. But not angry. You should know how that is, Atsumu. He's got your emotional range but Suna's expressive capability."
"What? What does that even mean?"
"It means you're overthinking things, Mom," Raiga declared, interrupting them guiltlessly. He ducked into Atsumu's space and stole a sip of cocktail, earning himself a yelp from his mother and a long-suffering sigh from his father. The boy danced out of the way before Osamu could react the way his parents should have, e.g. scolding him for sneaking alcohol despite being underage. "Yuuma's always wanted his mom to come back fer good, y'know? But he never does. Now that Uncle Rin says he will, Yuuma's scared ta get his hopes up again only to be disappointed. So he's actin' out like an emotionally-constipated moron."
When Raiga tried sneaking another sip, Atsumu guarded his cocktail jealously.
"You're sixteen and growing. Ethanol is a poison you shouldn't be exposing your liver to," Kiyoomi addressed his son before Atsumu could. Right, Osamu forgot: Raiga couldn't give two shits about broken rules. One had to use cold logic or medical know-how to convince him to do anything, something most people failed to notice because they were too busy categorizing Raiga as an Atsumu-level moron. Kiyoomi continued, "Now go drink some water, that one sip may have been enough to dehydrate you."
"Ugh, I'm gonna hafta pee so badly later," Raiga whined, but got up to fetch some water regardless.
"Finish yer cocktail before he comes back and tries stealin' another sip," Osamu told his twin, turning back to the shelves and making sure each glass was arranged appropriately. "Your girls are knocked out on the couch behind you. It's long past time you guys went home."
"But I wanna celebrate Rin comin' back to stay," Atsumu whined, very much not finishing his cocktail. He instead twisted around and pouted up at the staircase. "But no, Yuu's hoggin' him all to himself! I've got the best quip to drop on that foxy bastard, too!"
"Yuuma needs more time with Rin than you do," Osamu said. "And some of the old Inarizaki boys are comin' over for a small welcome home party over the weekend. You can negg Rin all you want then. Now finish yer drink and go home."
Despite his grumbling, Atsumu did in fact knock back the rest of his drink and went to rouse his twins like he was in any shape to help them carry their duffel bags out to the car. Clearly thinking the same thing, Omi hurried after him.
Even now more than a decade later, Osamu thought Atsumu had lost his damn mind naming his kids Miya Miyu and Miya Mayu. He was even more baffled that Omi had let him. Those tongue-twister names were going to make volleyball announcers weep whenever they had to give a play-by-play with both girls on the court. And unlike with Osamu and Atsumu, the girls were more of the stereotypical 'two peas in a pod' kind of twins. They were most likely going to join the same team in the future, making use of their full names painfully necessary.
God, just imagine the poor announcer at the future Olympics mixing up their names on international television. The thought had Osamu wanting to bury his face into his hands in preemptive, secondhand embarrassment.
(Atsumu's pregnancy with Miyu and Mayu had been yet another reckless accident, this time because Atsumu had accidentally mixed up his and a younger omega's suppressant pills during an away-game. Rin had laughed hysterically at the news before informing him that Atsumu was on his own: Yuuma was the only pup he'll ever have, so if the Miya family wanted a second baby this year Atsumu was going to have to carry it himself.
Which he did.
Rin must be a witch to have jinxed them like that, because several months later Atsumu's ultrasound showed two little blobs in his belly instead of one.)
Shooing his brother and his family away, Osamu spent a moment trying to organize his thoughts over this weekend's get-together.
Kita and Aran were definitely attending. Their kids were a firm 'maybe;' Osamu knew Ume would tag along if her sister Chinatsu planned to come, and Chinatsu would definitely attend if Akagi's son did. Then there was Ginjima and his mate and children; Oomimi and his adopted nephew; Kosaku and a few others he still needed to get into contact with. It may be a low-key, come-if-you-can kind of gathering, but Osamu still planned as if they were all going to arrive.
He'd be damned if anyone, much less anyone's puppies, went hungry under this roof.
"Oh, they finally left," Rin said, causing Osamu to jump in surprise. He hadn't noticed his mate coming back downstairs. Osamu turned to face the omega, apprehensive, until he saw Rin's shirt rumpled and a small smile on his lips.
He relaxed minutely and opened his arms, allowing Rin to sneak his hands around his waist a second time and rest his cheek on Osamu's shoulder. If Yuuma was in a good enough mood to wrestle with Rin, then their talk must not have derailed like Osamu had feared.
Rintarou sighed into Osamu's neck. "Hmm, with Raiga around it's like having two squawking Atsumu's. Can barely hear myself think through all that racket."
"Is Yuu comin' down?" Osamu tilted his head and kissed Rin's ear. The omega tightened his hold just a little. "If he's not, then give me a moment to lock up."
"I think he passed out the moment I carried him to his bed," Rin answered, reluctantly letting Osamu go so the beta could double-check everything was turned off and locked. "Completely exhausted himself emotionally. I know Atsumu makes building a denial-house look easy, but self-delusions like that take way too much effort. Yuuma's too much like me for a full infection. We're both lazy sons of bitches."
"Denial houses aren't transmissable," Osamu said dryly, because if they were he'd have been infected a dozen times over. But Rin and Yuuma were naturally resistant to all forms of lying, being it towards themselves or towards others. "All emotions are just a dozen times more exhausting when you're a teenager, and Yuuma is definitely a teenager."
"That's when they're the most transmissable," Rin insisted, following Osamu upstairs once the beta deemed everything in order. Osamu had long associated the soft pads of Rin's footsteps trailing behind him with Rin's return, and like always a conditioned rush of giddiness ran through him. The difference this time, however, was the knowledge that he was going to keep hearing it even after the professional season started.
That Rin really had decided to come home to stay.
"Osamu," Rin murmured once they made their way to the master bedroom. Osamu blinked rapidly when the omega stepped into his space and brushed his cheeks with a finger. "Hey, c'mon. 'Tsumu's the crybaby, not you."
"Shut up," Osamu huffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yer back for good, Rin. That's all that matters."
Rintarou didn't let him hide. He kissed Osamu's lips lightly and tugged him onto the bedcovers like they still didn't have to go brush their teeth. There were lines at the edge of Rintarou's eyes, little crow's feet from their age starting to catch up to them. Hell, Kiyoomi had started wearing glasses during his clinician hours, something Atsumu had teased him about until Osamu accused him of having a glasses-fetish and left Atsumu sputtering in embarrassment for days. Osamu certainly wasn't able to keep standing and rolling out onigiri nonstop like he'd used to back when he was younger. So much time had passed. Daily facetime calls or not, Osamu was acutely aware of the cumulative eternity Rin had spent running down his own wanderlust.
Without Yuuma and Sai and eventually Moto, Osamu wasn't sure if he could've waited so long.
"Thank you for being so patient with me, 'Samu," Rin drew him back into the present with his soft words. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find my way back here. Not because I regret it," Rin said before Osamu could open his mouth and argue. "But because I know it's been tough on you and Yuuma. So thank you."
Osamu bit his lip hard. God, Atsumu really was rubbing off on him if he kept being so weepy.
"I've missed you so much," he admitted, honest until the end. "Please tell me you won't leave again, Rin. I won't be able to take it."
"I'm not planning to go anywhere you can't follow," Rin said, using his thumb to wipe away Osamu's tears. "I promise, 'Samu. I'm finally home."
extra extra
"Raiga! Why the hell is the TV on the back porch and not in the living room where it belongs?" Mom's voice called out from downstairs.
Raiga froze halfway through organizing his lab report in preparation for tomorrow's hospital presentation. He glanced at the window and briefly considered jumping out in a bid for freedom. Human beings could easily survive a two-story fall, especially if one used a landing roll to stretch out the impact time. If he did get hurt, it'd just be physical pain anyway. Raiga's dislocated his joints enough times to be used to a little pain. Better than facing Mom's wrath, hands down.
He had one foot on the window sill when Mom suddenly shrieked, "Miya Raiga, why'd yer uncle send us an invoice for a television and mounting gear?"
He would've made a clean get-away if his bedroom door didn't then slam open and reveal Mayu standing in the doorway.
"Mayu—" Raiga started.
"Mom!" she screamed before he could convince her otherwise. "Raiga-nii's escapin' out the window again!"
Loud footsteps thumping up the stairs spelled an impending lecture.
So Raiga did the only reasonable thing: he threw himself out of the window.
Despite his less than stellar jumping form, he managed to land and roll relatively unscathed onto the backyard lawn—oof, fingers crossed his ankle was just sprained and not full-on dislocated—and made a break for the closest bus stop. One may think hiding out at the same restaurant sending his parents a hefty property damage bill was foolish, but whoever thought that didn't know the Miyas. If he could high-tail it to Onigiri Miya and blackmail his cousin into hiding out in his bedroom when Mom inevitably followed him, he could redirect all that rage to Uncle Osamu.
It was the golden rule of twins: when in doubt, yell at your twin first. Mom did it to Uncle Osamu, Miyu did it to Mayu, and even Raiga tended to fight with Yuuma first despite the two of them not actually being twins.
"I can't get grounded," he told Yuuma once he arrived. He'd spider-crawled his way up Onigiri Miya's back wall and scared the absolute shit out of Uncle Rin when he looked out the window at the exact wrong moment. He did let Raiga in though, because Uncle Rin was always down to cause Mom suffering. "This presentation's too important, I hafta impress Dr. Sato enough to have her talk to the Director 'bout extending my internship into the summer—"
"Can't you ask yer dad ta schedule a meeting?" Yuuma interrupted him.
Raiga ignored him. "—and if I can do that, maybe he'll let me take a peek at those Sakusa private medical texts, which is what I need fer my research so let me fucking hide already."
Yuuma could roll his eyes and look as unimpressed as he wanted; all that mattered was him letting Raiga hide in his closet.
(Neither Yuuma nor Mom understood the internal politics of the Sakusa Private Hospital, even all the way out here in the Osaka branch, and Raiga didn't have the patience to inform them. He may be the nephew of Director Sakusa Masahiro, but Dad was only his half brother and also kind of technically the disowned family hooligan. The only allies he had amongst the staff were the few near-retired nurses that had transferred from the main hospital in Tokyo. They'd apparently taken care of his paternal grandmother before his death; Dad had shown him a photo once of Yukio holding his baby-self, and all Raiga could think was how ravaged that man's endocrine system must have been to look like that.
His last trump card was, bizarrely enough, the long-retired but somewhat sentimental Sakusa Satoru. Raiga long suspected he'd only managed to weasel his way into his current internship as a side effect of his grandfather's inability to reach out to Dad directly. Raiga didn't mind. As long as he got what he wanted, he'd let himself be used as a pawn in as many games as the old coot liked to play.)
He was absent-mindedly running his fingers along his throbbing ankle, confirming that it indeed felt more like a sprain than a dislocation, when the closet door suddenly flung open.
"Raiga," Mom said, panting like he'd run the entire way from home to the restaurant instead of taking the bus like a normal person. Raiga reared back due to a combination of the sudden light hitting his dark-adjusted eyes and the impending inevitability of a proper dressing down. "You reckless... little shit..."
"Sorry, if you were hoping to distract 'Tsumu with your uncle, Osamu's out buying groceries," Uncle Rin said apologetically, because of course the one time Raiga needed Uncle Osamu to be here he had to be out.
Welp, Raiga was out of cards.
He'll have to guilt-trip Grandpa Satoru for that meeting with the Director after all.