Archive of Our Own

Komori Motoya had never cared much for lies, unless he could make them fun. What was the point of being allowed to lie to everyone if you didn’t make a joke out of it? When his parents first explained why it was customary for people to lie to each other upon their first meeting, Motoya figured that even if he didn’t meet his soulmate, he could always find new friends with a joke. At first, he stole his sister’s usual lie, and whenever he met new kids at school or at the park, he’d introduce himself as Komori Motoya, who could perform magic. It was fun for a while, until kids started debating with him on the possibilities of being able to perform actual magic and other long conversations that he didn’t care for, so Motoya started to think about his own personal lie.

It wasn’t necessary to do it, Motoya knew that, there were plenty of common lies people used all the time, but Motoya wanted to have fun. So he pondered, and pondered, and pondered as much as a four-year-old could, until it hit him. He’d lie about his name! How did it take him so long to figure it out? And so, whenever he met someone new, he’d introduce himself as Mickey Mouse, or Rapunzel, or Goku from Dragon Ball. At some point, he even got his cousin roped into it, albeit reluctantly, and whenever they met new people together, they’d switch names. Motoya found it hilarious, dropping his voice to resemble Kiyoomi’s and knitting his brows together like his cousin often did.

And it was fun for a while, at least until the girls in his class started being mean and calling him immature, so at age 10, Motoya had to think of a different lie, one that wouldn’t get him ridiculed as often. He got the inspiration from his younger sister a few days later, when she was sporting a pink wig as part of her princess costume. And from that day on, whenever he met someone, the phrase would leave his lips like second nature.

“Hi, I’m Komori Motoya, and my hair is pink.”

He liked it, it was funny enough for him to not find it tedious, especially when he said it with a serious face and people had to do a double take on his hair, but it was seemingly a lot more socially acceptable than his previous lies, and he didn’t hear any more comments from his classmates. It really shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but despite his bright persona and usual confidence, Motoya had soft insides, and he much rather change his introductory lie than deal with unkind looks from his peers. That was a bit harder to explain to Kiyoomi when he asked him to stop switching their names.

His cousin had simply stared at him seriously before asking “But why?” like it actually bothered him, like Motoya hadn’t tried for weeks to initially convince him to do it. Motoya offered a somewhat tense but still bright enough smile, along with a sheepish laugh, but the minute it left his throat he knew Kiyoomi knew.

“Did someone say something?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned, his voice laced with a tinge of what seemed to be anger.

“It’s nothing Kiyo,” he lied, because there was no greater force stopping him from lying to his cousin, so of course he was going to take advantage of that. “I just switched up my lie so this one is no longer fitting.”

Sakusa dropped it, thankfully, but he did start saying his hair color was green upon new meetings. Motoya would never admit it, but he was glad to have his cousin by his side, in his own weird ways. He continued to have him by his side on the most important moments of his life, including when he introduced himself as a libero in front of Itachiyama’s Volleyball Club. It was nerve-wracking, and despite how tall he was, he still felt terribly small in a room full of volleyball players for a powerhouse team. Still, Komori Motoya was nothing if not tenacious, and he knew he was good, especially for a first-year, so he clenched his teeth, held his head high and proved to everyone just how good he could be.

If Motoya had to give High School a rating, he’d give it a solid 7 out of 10. Volleyball was fun, Math and Physics were ok, English was terrible and his classmates were… something. Motoya wasn’t one to openly dislike people, much less for lying, considering how common it was, but he didn’t really enjoy much of his classmates’ company. It wasn’t even like they’d done anything to Motoya, but they seemed to be a bit too hung up on his cousin for his liking. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if only they could behave.

Instead of writing love letters or trying to become friends, most people opted for a more… direct approach, and often walked up to Kiyoomi only to say the most blatant lies to his face. Motoya had laughed the first few times, his cousin’s expression turning sour before he asked the person in front of him if they needed something, but one could only hear so many “pigs can fly” before it becomes an annoyance. The hype didn’t die down after a few days, like they both hoped it would, and Motoya had to watch his best friend and cousin become more and more closed off to others than he already was.

Kiyoomi liked to pretend he was unbothered by it, at least on the surface, but Motoya knew it was getting under his skin a little. After all, the people who managed to lie to him would get mildly dissapointed and then move on, but Kiyoomi was denied of his soulmate almost daily. Of course it was getting to him. At this rate it was almost impossible for his soulmate to be someone attending Itachiyama, so Kiyoomi only grew even more uninterested in people. By the time they graduated, Motoya was practically the only person Kiyoomi talked to, besides the volleyball team, and vice versa.

Motoya kept his generally friendship disposition, but he stopped looking for genuine connections in Itachiyama after that. He didn’t care about generalizing if it saved him the trouble of having to interact with shallow people any more than needed. He settled with a bit their attention, a few stolen glances in the halls between classes and a couple of exclamations when he did well during matches. He managed to make some good friends within the volleyball team, but he’d been terribly excited to graduate by the time his Third Year rolled around. Especially considering he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of college admissions like the rest of his peers.

It hadn’t been an easy decision, his older sister was already halfway through her own degree, but even if he had the brains for it, it was simply not what Motoya wanted for his life. His parents had tried to convince him to study; a backup plan, in case anything went wrong, but Motoya decided that if there was one thing worth being stubborn for, it was this. He knew he was good enough to go pro, he had been appointed best libero throughout his High School career, and plenty of V League teams were already reaching out to him. Why should he carry on in a path that wouldn’t make him as happy as volleyball did? And so, two months after his graduation, Komori Motoya found himself in the trials for the EJP Raijins.

Playing volleyball was the one thing Motoya was the most confident in. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink, didn’t doubt himself, not even for a second. He was so familiar with the ball, with the court, with the dives and the pain and the smell. He loved all of it, had for a long time. Despite all of this, though, Motoya found himself being incredibly nervous for his tryouts, a nervousness he hadn’t felt since his first High School nationals.

Perhaps he was overthinking, there didn’t seem to be many liberos trying out for the team. And even then, Motoya was confident he should be among the best candidates, but this was a V League team. If there was a situation in which he was allowed to be nervous, it was this one. Besides, every single player in volleyball knew how to receive a ball, in order to be the libero for a professional team, Motoya had to be the best of the best at recieving. Was he the best of the best? Surely he had been up until this point, he’d been selected for advanced training camps on a national level, but that didn’t mean-

“Hello, Suna Rintarou,” a voice interrupts his thinking, alongside an outstretched hand Motoya rushes to shake. “We seem to be the youngest ones here, and since this will take a while, I figured you’d like compay.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Komo-”

“Hold on, I think I know you. You’re Komori Motoya, with the alleged pink hair, aren’t you?” Suna states at him, waiting for an answer. It’s a little mischiveous, like he’d won a game Motoya didn’t even know they were playing.

“Yes, that would be me,” Motoya smiles. They fall into easy conversation after that, completely ignoring the fact that not one lie managed to slip out of Motoya’s mouth.

They talked over stretches, about Inarizaki and Itachiyama and their last spring tournament. Motoya had technically known Suna, they faced each other during finals of their first year, but this was the first time they actually held a conversation. Motoya learns a lot from Suna during the first day of tryouts, not necessarily from the things he tells them, but rather from what he’s able to observe.

Suna doesn’t smile or laugh much, but he’s rather funny, in a seemingly unintentional way. He’s always observing, always analyzing, as if he never stops playing volleyball. He’s here to try out as a middle blocker, the same position he’s held since middle school. He lacks the kansai-ben that had been so notorious in all of his High School teammates, which makes Motoya think he might not be from Hyogo. He’s not nearly as flexible as Motoya, but he’s careful with his stretches. His hands seem to run cold, with how he’s always blowing on them. He has a nasty serve and an even nastier spike, and Motoya really hopes they’ll be playing on the same side of the net. He wouldn’t want to receive them during official matches.

He also doesn’t lie to Motoya, for the whole three days the tryouts last. At least none of the common lies people often say as ice-breakers, and certainily none Motoya can tell apart. From someone like Suna, perhaps the lie would be a sarcastic comment, Suna looks like he’d be a sarcastic person, but none of those come either. Normally, Motoya would be curious as to why the lie hasn’t come yet, especially considering they might be teammates in the near future, but when he sees Suna smiling down at his phone during lunch break, he thinks he might have an idea.

One week later, Motoya receives the call, alongside a letter in the mail, that he’s made it into the team and to move to Shizuoka within the next two weeks. He feels in a daze while telling his family, he feels in a daze while arranging his things, and he feels in a daze up until his goodbye party that his mom had insisted on having ‘before her baby takes the wold by storm’. It’s only when he’s hugging everyone goodbye and Kiyo actually squeezes him that it clicks, and suddenly he can’t stop crying. It feels like he’s standing in front of a precipice, and now all he has to do is fall, but at the same time, it feels like his climb has only gotten steeper.

The next day at the train station, his eyes are still slightly red and puffy. He doesn’t cry again, not even when his whole family is holding back their own tears, and when finally sits down, Motoya lets out a small laugh.

This is it, he thinks. I’m achieving my dream.

Moving into the shared apartment building is much more chaotic than Motoya would’ve expected, considering he didn’t even bring much to begin with. Three suitcases, two boxes and one plushie, but considering that he isn’t the only one moving in, he figures it was to be expected. The elevator is working overtime to accommodate for all the trips that these people-his teammates-are making. In such cases, Motoya would take the stairs even if he had to carry his stuff, but since he’s been placed on the thirteenth floor, he scratches that option.

Motoya’s getting out of the elevator with his last box when he comes face to face with one Suna Rintarou, who doesn’t show much emotion at seeing him except for, maybe, a pinch of relief. They congratulate each other on making it, and Motoya helps Suna finish bringing the rest of his stuff since he’s done anyways. They’re on the same floor, but on oposite sides of the building. Each floor hosts four apartments, but their other two floormates remain unknown.

The apartments are small, Suna’s a mirror image of his, each holding a bedroom, one bathroom, and a small kitchen connected to a living space by the entrance. Still, seeing as they live alone, it’s plenty of room, and Motoya is thankful. He’s actully surprised when Suna makes a small comment about this being bigger than his dorm room back at Inarizaki. Motoya didn’t even know Inarizaki had dorms, but he doesn’t think he can ask about it, so he just lets out a small laugh. They go together for a small dinner at the nearby convenience store, since none of them really feel like cooking or ordering takeout, and take the time to trace the route for the gym they’ll take the following morning. It will be their first official training with the team, and even though Motoya expects it will focus on physical conditioning rather than playing, he still has a hard time falling asleep.

The next morning he wakes up early and goes for a light breakfast at the same convenience store, nothing that’ll irritate his stomach, and makes a mental list of the things he’ll have to purchase that afternoon. He arrives at the gym early, but there’s already some of his new teammates there when he arrives. He introduces himself to each of them with a bow, his name, and his lie-no problems with that last one-and receives names and bows in return. Once he’s done with introductions, goes to the court sidelines and starts stretching before team warmups and stretches. He has too much nervous energy to stand still or try to start conversation with someone, but this has been a habit that both him and Kiyoomi have had since late middle school, so it eases a bit of his nerves.

Just as he’s thinking he should call Kiyoomi that afternoon, more people start entering the gym, including Suna and a guy around their age he recognizes from Fukurodani. Suna nods at him, but he seems rather busy with his own introductions to the team, so Motoya forgoes striking conversation in favor of continuing to stretch. Suna seems to be done just before practice starts, so no conversation, but he sands next to him when Coach asks them to line up in front of the rest of the team. They have to introduce themselves, as well as all the other new recruits, to the rest of the team.

There’s six other new additions to the team besides himself and Suna, alongside the other twenty members the team already, and Motoya realizes that 28 is a pretty big number, considering only 7 of them will get to play regularly. They all look older than them, at least like they’re done with college or about to be done, with the exception of the Fukurodani guy whose name Motoya can’t seem to remember. This means they’ll be the team’s babies, which could go well or terribly wrong. Motoya sees three other liberos already on the team, and makes his resolve to get out of the bench, whatever it takes.

As it turns out, Motoya’s hunch was right, and it was Suna who took the spot as the team’s youngest member, which had previously belonged to Washio Tatsuki, Fukurodani’s former middle blocker. Motoya was also right in that practice was mostly focused on physical conditioning in order to prepare them for the upcoming season, which is received by a lot of groans from the more established teammates. There aren’t many chances for talking, except when they’re doing rounds around the court, but Suna and him run next to each other in silence. They pair up for stretches at the end of training, and part ways in the locker room for the rest of the day.

Motoya calls his cousin while he’s at the convenience store, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while one hand carries his groceries basket and the other holds the menu the team’s nutrition specialist made for him. He tells him about his first day, competition, and asks about how he’s been doing with university. In turn, Kiyoomi groans about homework and insufferable group projects with stupid people who “should not have been admitted into university, Motoya, I swear to fucking God-” before they say their goodbyes and hang up for the day.

He makes a small dinner for himself, grateful for all the years he spent alongside his mom and sisters in the kitchen, and scrolls through his phone before heading to sleep. He vaguely thinks about Suna, and if he’s had anything to eat, but it’s not like they are close enough for him to head over and ask, so he decides against it. If anything, he might ask tomorrow morning during small talk before practice, but only if Suna says anything first. As much as he likes getting along with his teammates, he feels hyperaware of the competition to make it into the starting lineup, and even if Suna isn’t direct competition in terms of the position they play, they did join the team at the same time, which could factor into their consideration for the starting lineup. Contracts and all.

In the end, who he ends up talking to isn’t Suna but rather Washio, and Motoya is very glad that he managed to figure out his name yesterday, or else this conversation would’ve been awkward. The exchange lies and Washio, despite his intimidating presence, is much more open than what Motoya would’ve made him out to be. He talks about his soulmate, a girl from his neighborhood that he’s been dating for, like, four years, about volleyball back in High School and how his year with the team has been. He seems happy about the last topic, even when he hasn’t made it to the starting lineup yet, but he does make a face when talking about their senior teammates, and Motoya sets a mental reminder to be careful about that.

It’s only during their water break that they strike up conversation with Suna, too. He isn’t as talkative as Washio or Motoya, but he isn’t closed off either and Motoya feels bad about setting a mental barrier between them before he’s even had the chance to properly know him. It’s Washio the one who asks them about their dinners, and Motoya learns that Suna brought some food from home with him, but he’s slightly worried about what he’ll do once he runs out. Washio laughs at this and tells him to talk to their nutrition team about it, so Motoya doesn’t think he should be worried. They both also learn that, sadly, Washio isn’t in the same floor as them, but on the tenth one.

It’s easy talking to them, in comparison to their other teammates, and Motoya feels happy to have been able to establish at least some sort of rapport. Kiyoomi tells him that as long as he’s able to play together with his team, he shouldn’t worry about much more, but it’s Kiyoomi, so Motoya doesn’t trust his advice on this. Still, he can’t deny that the way the older guys treat them rubs him off the wrong way. They are always polite, never outwardly hostile and it’s similar enough to the upper and underclassmen relationships he had in High School, but their conversations seem to be lacking that shared camaraderie that, in Motoya’s opinion, all teams should have.

He thinks he can see it in Suna’s face too, whenever he sees him speaking with the others. Suna’s expression is never happy, per se, but around the rest of the teem he seems specially serious. His features harden and his movements are shorter and stiffer than they normally are. Washio is better at hiding his discomfort when interacting with them, but Motoya swears he can see his eye twitching when he has to do so for too long. It seems, though, that none of them are going to acknowledge it, so it takes two weeks before Motoya finally bites the bullet.

They’re all riding the elevator to slip back into their apartments after practice, and the doors have just closed when Motoya decides it’s now or never.

“So, uhm, do you guys feel like maybe the others treat us a bit differently?” He asks conversationally, as he presses the buttons for both the tenth and thirteenth floor. He watches Suna’s eyes widen at the question through the mirror, and then both of their eyes widen at the exclamation Washio let’s out followed by “I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy! Komori you glorious bastard!”

Spending a whole year as the only member within their age range seems to have been more stressful than Washio let on, because he starts going on a rant about the condescending attitude he’s been feeling since his first day. When they reach the tenth floor, he doesn’t even stop talking to gesture for them to follow him, and continues his speech well into his own apartment. Both Motoya and Suna listen to him while also examining the space they’re invading. It’s a lot more home-y than Motoya’s own apartment; well decorated and not too disorganized. He can’t speak for Suna, since he hasn’t been inside since he helped him move in, but he supposed the same could be said in his case.

Washio cooks them dinner, which is surprisingly good, and they take turns comparing stories with different teammates to assess them better. Suna is even more participative in the conversation, scoffing and rolling his eyes when he’s not speaking, getting lost in the jumble of anecdotes alongside Motoya and Washio. Rationally, Motoya knows he should be somewhat worried that his team is lacking the team-ness aspect of it, but knowing that he isn’t the only one feeling this way gives him a sense of comfort. If it’s the three of them, then surely they can tackle the challenge one way or another. By the time they leave Washio’s apartment, there’s an easy smile in Motoya’s face and he feels full, not only from the food he was given.

The next morning, Motoya wakes up to a groupchat consisting of three members, and a good morning meme from Washio. There’s a pep on his step as he walks to the gym and he truly hadn’t realized how much he missed having teammates up until now. They fall into easy conversation as they warm up, and taking to the others is much more bearable now that he knows he’ll have someone to vent to later. They all seem to take on their training with a renewed energy, and Motoya eagerly does his diving drills across the court with the promise of a practice game later. With the season rapidly approaching, Coach seems to have let go of conditioning hell and finally decided to start refining plays and strategies for their upcoming games.

Washio, Suna and him are all placed on Team C for practice, and they absolutely demolish Team D. They are all teammates within the gym, of course, and Motoya is still far from being placed in Team A anytime soon, but he can’t help but swell with pride when the first set finishes 25-13. Washio and Suna are excellent blockers, and even if they can’t stop all the balls from entering their court, they sure do make it easier for Motoya to receive them. It’s incredibly easy to connect with them, and Motoya finds himself falling in love with volleyball all over again. They compete against Team A next and loose the set 25-23, before Coach switches up the teams to try out different configurations.

Motoya finds himself delighted to play even if his teams don’t work out as great as the first ones. His teams don’t win all of their sets, but he makes sure to receive the ball enough so that they never loose with a too-wide margin. He communicates with others, making sure that they’ll listen, and he feels reassured in his skills too. By the time practice ends, his legs are aching terribly and he’s sure he’s got at least five new bruises in his body, but he’s also sure he felt Coach’s eyes on him a whole lot during practice, so he goes home with a smile.

The next day at practice, Motoya makes sure to keep communicating and inciting his teams to try out new stuff during their practice matches. Sure, his teammates might be older and have more experience than him, but they’re too stiff in their strategy and can’t seem to think of creative ways to get an upper hand in the game. Washio and Suna seem to pick up on his strategy, because he soon sees them do the same with their own teams, coercing them into doing some rather unconventional attacks. Of course, some of them fail, but Motoya notices Coach looking at their teams with interest, so he’ll consider it a win.

The next day, Suna and Washio’s teams are always facing each other, and Motoya watches amusedly as the competitive glint in their eyes quickly grows into a flame. Him, on the other side, barely gets to play with or agains them. Insead, he’s passed back and forth between the other two teams who, Motoya realizes, at all times have at least two of the current starting members. He knows he shouldn’t get ahead of himself, it’s not even like he’s competing against the team’s starting libero, but he makes sure to do his 110% during practice. When they head home that day, all three of them are beaten into a pulp.

This continues on for the rest of the week, but somewhere along Motoya has decided to stay back for extra practice, Suna alongside him. It’s draining, after diving for hours during games and cracking his brain for new ideas in each of them, but their sessions hold a much more relaxed atmosphere than actual practice. Suna practices his serves-as if they needed improvement-and Motoya tries his best to stop him from scoring. More often than not, they end up laughing in conversation as they head back home from practice, inhibitions long forgotten with how tired they are.

Motoya learns, during those exhausted trips back to the thirteenth floor, that Suna smiles much more freely when he’s tired and there’s no one around. Well, no one but Motoya, anyways. It is also during one of those elevator rides that the first wall between them comes crashing down, Suna’s courtesy.

“Suna, do you think that tomorrow-”

“Would you stop being so formal with me?” Suna asks, sounding slightly distressed. “You don’t have to keep calling me Suna, we’re the same age”

“Suna-chan!” Motoya teases, and promptly gets shoved in the shoulder as a response.

“Just call me Rin, or Sunarin if you must, all my friends call me that,” he instructs, accompanied with the rare smile that, this time, has Motoya’s stomach twisting with an unknown feeling.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay Rin.” and the name leaves a funny feeling in the tip of his tongue.

It takes a while before the topic of soulmates makes an appearance in their group conversations. It might sound stupid, considering they’ve become very tight-knitted in the past month. Motoya had briefly glazed over it with Washio before, but now the guy goes into a full rant about his girlfriend with his eyes practically changing shape into hearts. Him and Rin share teasing looks, but none of them make a comment; it will be ammunition for later. Motoya easily admits he hasn’t found his soulmate yet and isn’t dating anyone, and then him and Washio turn to look at Rin.

Motoya knows he shouldn’t be surprised about it, because he’d had his suspicions since tryouts, but seeing Rin become flustered is definitely a first. His cheeks blush ever so slightly when he talks about his soulmate. They’ve known since they were fifteen, but started dating only during their second year of High School, much to Washio’s and Motoya’s surprise. Rin explains that they had just met each other back then and hand’t wanted the pressure of a relationship to burden them. Instead, they slowly got to know each other and Rin’s soulmate, the one and only Miya Osamu, finally asked him out a few months into their second year.

Motoya was initially shocked at discovering who Rin’s soulmate is, because he doesn’t remember them ever being lovey-dovey, or having heard about their relationship at all, but when he remembers them and how they looked from across the court, he figures it makes sense. He doesn’t remember much about Osamu; hooded eyelids, relaxed posture and a cold, intimidating aura, but those characteristics seem to fit with Rin’s outward appearance, too, so Motoya guesses it makes sense. Washio and Rin exchange a few feelings about long-distance relationships, but they quickly stop when Motoya laughs at them for missing their partner’s cooking.

Rin glares at him, which only makes Motoya laugh harder, but he relents and promises to cook them both dinner some time next week. Said dinner ends up happening at Washio’s apartment, and it slowly becomes a weekly tradition. Rin and Washio would alternate buying the groceries Motoya required and he’d cook something for the three of them, and then they’d all enjoy dinner together. The season is rapidly approaching, and Coach has become relentless with practice matches between them and against some universities, so Motoya usually sticks with foods in their meal plans, but they all enjoy them. He usually calls Kiyoomi after he’s back home, his cousin usually up doing homework anyways, and they chat about their weeks.

Motoya tells him about how he’s made it into Team B, which is now fixed, alongside Washio and Suna. He doesn’t usually get switched in during official practice matches, though, but Motoya feels hopeful that he might next season. Of course, it would’ve been foolish to think that he was going to get a starting position right away, especially considering he’s surrounded by more experienced players, but he feels satisfied with the way things have bey den working so far. Kiyoomi mostly agrees with him, and Motoya vaguely wonders how long it would take him to make it into the starting lineup for a V League team. Probably half a season. He thinks briefly about making a bet with Kiyoomi on it, but by the time his cousin starts his professional career, his estimate might be different, so he decides against it.

Instead, he focuses his attention on volleyball. He trains hard, does conditioning on his own when they don’t have practice, and watches old matches from the Japanese league when he’s to tired to do anything else. Kiyoomi and him used to do so when the weather wouldn’t allow training, or when Kiyoomi’s joints were aching too much, so it’s something he likes to indulge himself with when he misses Tokyo. Rin joins him sometimes, too, when Motoya feels especially lonely. At first he’d been scared to invite him over, but it’s become more and more frequent to make the trip down the hall to fetch Rin from his own apartment.

By September, their footage-analyzing sessions have morphed into movie nights more often than not. Sometimes, it’s even Rin who comes over with his laptop and a blanket, and it seems like he’s already made his claim on the same spot in Motoya’s couch. Motoya himself has decided to invest a bit of his paychecks into getting a popcorn machine, since it’s healthier than the one that can be cooked in the microwave, and they often munch on it while watching whatever. Sometimes it’s old games from the Japanese league or previous Olympics, in which they exchange commentary and dissect attacks to try to find a way to counter them. Other times, it’s any movie or series that they find online, and they watch them mostly in silence. Rin, surprisingly, likes romantic comedies too, so Motoya and him scoot close together with the laptop balanced between their legs, watching strange characters fall in love.

They don’t touch any more than necessary, but they’ll sometimes wrestle a bit between their teasing. It’s nice, comfortable, and Motoya finds that he learns a lot about Rin even if they aren’t talking. He learns that Rin’s hands are always cold, from the few times they brush when reaching for popcorn, and that Rin never falls asleep watching movies. He learns that Rin has a sister, when he cancels movie night because he has to call her, and Motoya promptly scolds him for it because “We have known each other for months Rin! What do you mean you have a sister?” And he also learns that Rin has a very soft and beautiful laugh, from when he stifles it against Motoya’s shoulder. He doesn’t learn the meaning of his insides feeling fuzzy when that happens.

Slowly, but surely Motoya has been settling into his new life, which is precisely why it had to come crumbling down. They are less than a month away from the beginning of the season, and their main starting rotation for the first half has already been decided. Motoya didn’t make the cut, which is exactly what he expected, and he feels at peace with it. It’s all going well and he’d like to settle into the motions of playing pro before worrying about matches anyways. Instead, their starting libero suffers from a lateral ankle sprain, and Motoya has to rush to build teamwork with the rest of the starting rotation two weeks before the season starts.

The whole ordeal passes by like a blur. He calls his family and gets congratulated, Rin and Washio seem to be just as shocked as he is, but they look very happy for him, too. He receives stern warnings from Coach to take care of his own health and body, and he has to adapt to playing with his teammates. Luckily, he’d already played with them during their various practice matches, and it’s just a matter of building a team atmosphere, but Motoya still feels like a newborn calf learning how to walk. The first day it’s like his body is moving purely on instinct. He dives for the ball, gets out of the way, makes passes for the setter, receives nasty serves, makes emergency sets, all without really thinking. He doesn’t suggest new plays or counter strategies, which Coach definitely notices, because after practice Motoya’s told to simply relax and focus.

Motoya feels a bit ridiculous in his insecurities, he knows he should feel happy about getting to play as a starter in his first season with the team, but he can’t help but be nervous about the whole thing. It’s even worse than tryouts. He knows that either Nishimura or Yoshida, the other two available liberos, could take his place in a hearbeat. They’ve already played in the university circuits, after all, and yet Motoya was the chosen one. It should be reassuring, yet it simply pressures him into not fucking up. When he calls Kiyoomi to tell him about it, he promptly gets called an idiot for it.

Granted, his cousin isn’t the best with words or reassurances, but somewhere along their lives, they started to confide almost everything in the other. He knows he can trust Kiyoomi with his insecurities, and that the other won’t intentionally make him feel bad or take importance away from them. Yes, Kiyoomi might’ve called him an idiot, but Motoya knows what that means. He’s being told to stop overthinking, that if he’s been chosen over others it’s because he’s the best one, and although it doesn’t completely erase the issue, he does feel better the next day.

Motoya tries to be more participative, he proposes strategies and ideas here and there, but he knows they are not his best ones. He fucks up a couple of passes, too, clearly out of nerves, but none of his teammates are asses about it, so he’s thankful. By the time practice ends, Motoya is decidedly not satisfied with his performance, but there’s been an improvement since yesterday, so Coach lets him be. The one who doesn’t let him be is Rin, who practically demands that he stay behind for extra practice with him. Rin makes him stretch again, as if Motoya isn’t still warm from practice, and once everyone else has trailed out of the gym, he starts serving the ball like a fucking monster.

The first one takes Motoya by surprise, and he has to dive for the ball, sending a questioning look towards Rin once he’s done.

“What are you doing down there? Get up Motoya, we have to keep going.” Rin scolds him, like he did something wrong, and Motoya has never been one to back down from a challenge. He gets back into position, and starts digging everything Rin sends his way. He has to make dives sometimes, and Rin doesn’t make it an easy job. He serves without taking a break, he lets the ball touch the net or sends it directly to the court’s corner. His swing is nasty, and the balls have an ungodly amount of force behind them, but Motoya manages to save all of them. By the time the ball cart is empty, they are both drenched in sweat, and it’s only then that Rin stops and lets them both drop to the floor in exhaustion. They clean up and head home wordlessly; Rin offers no pep talk or words of consolation, but Motoya doesn’t need any. Not anymore.

During Morning practice the following day, Motoya is sore and exhausted, but he once again feels in his element. He digs the balls with ease, and proposes strategies with the same enthusiasm he had back on their first practice games. He yells out words of encouragement for his teammates and makes sure to do a job so good they have no choice but to encourage him, too. He smiles a lot more during practice too, anything from cocky grins when he stops Team B on their first serve to wide smiles during Team A’s huddles. Motoya’s good roll continues on for the next two weeks, and so when their first match arrives, he’s confident in his position as the team’s starting libero.

Motoya has been on big stadiums before, he has played center court plenty of times, he’s won nationals during his High School career, he’s been to national training camps and featured in magazines. He’s still nervous when it’s time for him to enter the court. Their first match takes place in Nagano, and Motoya is unfamiliar with the place, but he tries to copy what his more experienced teammates are doing and pretends to know what he’s doing. They announce his name, alongside the rest of the starting rotation, and he smiles and waves to the crowd cheering for his debut. His family couldn’t make it to the game, but they all promised to tune in from home, so he makes sure to not appear nervous.

Both Rin and Washio are in the bench, cheering him on alongside the rest of the team, and despite the nerves making a mess of his stomach, Motoya feels confident he can make it. He’s unmistakable, the white uniform with the huge number 10 contrasting with his team’s bright yellow, and it feels all too familiar. They go through some other formalities before the game can truly begin, but once it does, all his nerves dissipate. They get to serve first, and take the first few points, too, so it takes a while for Motoya to be able to stand on the court. Once it’s his his turn, though, he makes sure to make his presence known.

The balls the other team is sending aren’t easy to dig, but Motoya makes sure to make them look easy. He sends A-Pass after A-Pass, showing off the skills he’s gathered after years of polishing. He saves the ball on tricky situations, making the crowd roar from the recovery of a point they’d already deemed lost. He’s sweating profusely, but he doesn’t feel tired at all. He sends over messages from Coach to the team, and makes his own observations as well, both during timeouts and between rallies. Sometimes, he sees cameras panning straight to him after a particularly good save, and he makes sure to grin back, even if he isn’t sure it’ll make it to the actual transmission. He even goes as far as to wink once when he’s able to get a particularly nasty serve on the first go, resulting in a point for his team.

It’s a tough game, these are the major leagues, after all, but they still manage to take it in four sets. Once it’s done, Motoya receives countless slaps on his back from his teammates, and he can’t help the smile taking up all of his face. He waves to the fans still on the bleachers and receives cheers back. His favorite part, though, is when he gets to hug Rin and Washio after the game. They congratulate him on his plays and narrate their perspective from the sidelines, and Motoya couldn’t be happier that he’s found such amazing friends. Rin ruffles his hair, even if it’s still sweaty and gross from the game, and they stand side by side to bow to VC Hiroshima at the end of the match.

Motoya gets snatched for a couple of interviews, but even though he sees Wahsio lingering nearby, he’s completely lost sight of Rin. He only sees him again as Rin slumps in the seat next to his for the bus ride back to the hotel. He seems abnormally happy, at least to Motoya, who can probably read him better than anyone else on the team, but they’re both demolished from the day, so Motoya decides against teasing him and simply shares one of his earbuds so they can both listen to some music.

He sighs happily once he’s able to flop onto his bed. He isn’t rooming with Rin or Washio, instead he’s been placed with another guy from the starting lineup. He calls his family, who all but yell into his ear about the match. His sisters tease him about winking to the camera, and he feels shy for the first time in the day. He calls Kiyoomi, next, and their conversation is much more tranquil, but Motoya knows his cousin means it when he congratulates him for his game. He recieves a text message from his former captain as well, but decides he’ll answer the next day and settles in for a good night’s sleep.

They leave the next day and head back to Shizuoka to continue training. Their next game is a home game against VC Kanagawa, and they better be in tip-top shape to continue their winning streak. Motoya has already started looking for old games form them in his phone so that he can watch the footage, and he’s feeling much more confident in his skills after a successful debut. He’s telling Rin about the games, and arranging the days in which they could watch them together, when he’s suddenly interrupted.

“You don’t lie to me, do you?” Rin asks, seemingly out of nowhere. Motoya is a bit shocked by the question, but the answer comes to him easily enough.

“No,” he admits, “I feel like you’d figure it out anyways, so there’s really no point”

Rin takes him in for a second after that, as if making sure that Motoya isn’t actually lying to him this time; his green eyes analyzing him quickly like he often analyzes the court, but that’s soon replaced with one of his rare, breathtaking smiles.

Motoya’s pulse quickens, and he feels the tips of his ears start to burn.

Fuck, he realizes, as the bus stumbles on a pothole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Motoya submerges himself into practice, making sure to always be so exhausted not one single thought can cross his mind. He doesn’t go out of his way to avoid Rin, but between their extra practice and Rin’s own life, they don’t talk as often as they usually do. Rin also happens to be terrible at texting back, so most of their conversation for the week happens during dinner with Washio. Motoya doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for his friends existence. They talk about their upcoming match, and Washio mentions wanting to get out of the bench so that his girlfriend can come see him. Rin looks deep in though at this, and that’s when Motoya remembers.

Right, Rin has a boyfriend of almost two years who also just so happens to be his boyfriend. He doesn’t panic, though, much to his own surprise. Rin is objectively handsome, he has the build of an athlete, and he’s been a great friend to Motoya. Anyone interested in boys would develop a small crush, but that doesn’t mean he’s fallen head over heals for a taken man. He’s still acutely aware of the fact that, besides friends, they are also coworkers and, most importantly, teammates. Their careers come first, and it’s not even like Motoya was planning on doing anything stupid, but it’s an additional deterrent to prevent his thoughts from wandering to places they shouldn’t.

He’s rationalizing all of this when Rin mentions that his boyfriend did attend their match, but that he forbid him from attending any others until Rin makes it to the starting lineup because he’s still studying in Hyogo. Motoya chooses the opportunity to make Osamu a more tangible presence in his mind, and starts asking questions about him. He learns that the guy is juggling a business degree and culinary school, but that he’ll only be doing so for a year before he moves to juggling a business degree and a part time job at a restaurant. Rin mentions that he’s pretty good at cooking, and promptly gets teased about not being a fair judge. It is then settled that whenever Osamu comes to visit, he’ll have to take over Motoya’s chef duties and only then will it be decided if he’s a good cook.

Their second match rapidly approaches and all three of them submerge themselves with training. Sometimes they stay behind with practice too, doing diving drills until their legs give out or practicing spiking with Motoya setting for them. Washio is usually the one to signal the end of practice, but they all have a pretty good sense of self-care and don’t usually overwork themselves. By the time they have to face off with VC Kanagawa, all three of them are more than prepared for the match. Motoya takes his place on the court with a newfound sense of confidence, and receives their opponent’s serve on the first try.

They loose the second and third set, but eventually win the match back within five sets. It’s utterly exhausting and the rallies seem to drag on forever, but when he’s in the game Motoya would rather loose a limb than willingly let the ball fall. He bows at the end of the game, Rin and Washio by his side, before he is once again pulled by interviewers. He’s stuck in them longer than a libero usually would, but considering it’s only his second game and he played a key role in keeping the ball alive, he doesn’t think much about it. Rin is right by his side to snatch him when time is up, though, and Motoya thanks him with a smile. He tries his best to pretend the blush on his face is a remnant of the game and not due to the strong grip on his shoulder.

The team’s schedule continues, with an alternation of home and away games, but it is during their face off against the Tachibana Red Falcons that the first unthinkable thing happens. They’ve lost the first two sets of the game, they’re on the brink of loosing their winning streak, and coach calls for timeout. The third set isn’t looking too promising, they’re loosing 13-8, but the gap is wide and they have to close it somehow. After the whistle is blown, signaling for them to return to the court, Coach calls for a player substitution. Out #7 Watanabe Yudai. In #9, Washio Tatsuki.

Motoya would’ve run to hug his friend if they weren’t in the middle of a game, about to start a rally. Instead, he settles for a high five and yelling “Server up!” when Washio exits the court with the ball on his hands. As the game goes by, he feels extremely lucky he’s had so much practice with Washio. They sync up perfectly with the blocking and receiving formation, and the rest of the team doesn’t get left behind. They manage to get back the third set, and continue winning until they take the game, too. Despite being surrounded by people, Rin is grinning from ear to ear when he comes over to congratulate them for the win, and Motoya is sure Washio’s back will stay red for days from how hard Rin slapped it.

Watanabe is a good player, Motoya has seen him pull some pretty impressive feats, but he doesn’t seem to be able to come back from his slump in time for the next game, so Washio gets to keep his position. They adjust the rotation slightly, so that they’ll be able to exploit more of Washio’s strong points, and they continue to play as they are. It takes a couple of games, but they eventually loose their winning streak during their match against the Schweiden Adlers. They’ve still earned enough points that his match doesn’t drastically affect their chances of getting into the post-season, but the mood is decidedly down for the whole team. Motoya invites Rin and Washio over for dinner, it’s the first time he’s hosted, and cooks them a comfort meal that is decidedly not allowed within their meal plans. None of they complain though, and they eat in somber silence.

Rin lies down on his couch and stays there, even after Washio leaves. Motoya lies down on the floor next to him, and they both stare at the ceiling without uttering a word. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they stay in the same position for a long time before Rin takes his leave. Motoya walks him to the door and stares in silence as Rin slides his feet inside his shoes in a way that would make his mother scream, but considering he’s only walking towards the other end of the hall, Motoya supposes it’s fair.

Most of the team looks slightly dejected during morning practice, but not Rintarou. He seems to have built himself up once again overnight, and practices harder than anyone else on the team. His attitude seems to be contagious, and by the end of practice they’re all picking up the pace, but Rin still pulls ahead. He continues to pull ahead for the rest of the week, and even after they win their scheduled practice match, which is when most of the others calm down. Motoya honestly isn’t surprised when Coach picks Rin for the starting roster during their next home game, but he still feels a bit touched once the realization hits. All three of them have finally made it out of the bench.

It’s no surprise that Rin gives his 110% in the match. His form is nearly impeccable when he’s jumping for blocks, his serves are nasty while still being in-bounds, and his spikes are still as impossible to block as ever. Watching him and Washio work together, Motoya feels even more motivated to cover any holes in their defense. The game is grueling, and they go into deuce from the first set, but the whole team seems to be determined to take the win home. It becomes the first game in the season that they manage to win in straight sets. Rin gets caught in a couple of interviews after the game, but he manages to sneak away when Motoya isn’t looking, and that’s when Motoya remembers his conversation from a few weeks ago and that Osamu is probably here.

His suspicions are confirmed when Rin invites both him and Washio for dinner, insisting that Osamu will cook. Motoya arrives alongside Washio, having asked him to knock on his door so they can both head to Rin’s place, looking a bit more put together than he normally would for their dinner nights. This is a special occasion, though, and even if he knows Osamu wouldn’t judge him for his looks, he wants to make a good impression. For what? He doesn’t know.

Washio is the first one to enter the apartment and greet both Rin and Osamu. He gives him a firm handshake and a smile, and Motoya decides that’s the way to go. He feels Rin staring at him during their introductions, and since he already knows Osamu isn’t his soulmate, he forgoes his usual pink hair routine in favor of asking Osamu how his trip went. They fall into easy conversation after that, with Osamu making an array of dishes and Rin trying and failing to not look absolutely smitten. The kitchen is bursting with noise and although Motoya doesn’t spend much time here, he can’t help but think it feels very homey, with the way Rin and Osamu take up the space.

Osamu looks a bit different than how Motoya remembers him, but not that much. He might be a bit taller than he was during their last Inter-Highs, but his complexion looks more or less the same. His hair is still mostly gray, but it looks as if his roots have started growing in, and it makes Motoya wonder if he’ll dye it back again. He asks about it, and Osamu tells him that while grey hair is nice, it requires too much time and care that he simply doesn’t have now, so he’s going to grow out his natural hair color. They talk a bit about hair dyes after that, before they move on to countless other topics.

The food is absolutely delicious, and Osamu looks very please with himself as they all devour what he served them and go back in for seconds. Motoya wasn’t even that hungry before coming, but whatever it is Osamu did to the meat is borderline magical. Osamu receives an array of compliments from both Washio and Motoya, making him grin widely as he takes note of what they liked the most. They keep conversing for a while after the food is done, but Washio leaves after a short while to make his nightly call with his girlfriend. Motoya, on the other hand, is in a heated debate with Osamu and Suna about food, so much so that he doesn’t even think to leave and give the couple some alone time.

It’s only when Rin excuses himself to go to the bathroom that Motoya realizes he must have overstayed his welcome, but he simply hadn’t expected to get along so well with Osamu. In the absence of his boyfriend, the latter asks Motoya about how they became friends, and Motoya laughs a little recounting their shared suffering when dealing with their teammates. He tells him about the little actions here and there where the tream would treat them differently, and how grateful Washio had been when Motoya finally brought it up. Osamu’s face hardens a bit, and Motoya almost falls out of his chair to reassure him that they’re not having trouble with the team anymore, and at least the other starting members are kind and communicative with them.

Osamu starts asking him more about the team directly, then, about Motoya’s own experience and if he had had much trouble with the age gap, but Motoya quickly stomps down his worries. If he was being honest, he’d been more annoyed than hurt by the team’s condescending attitude. He doesn’t know why he’s being so honest with someone he just met, but Osamu’s grey eyes seem to pierce into his soul just as deeply as Rin’s green ones, and Motoya wouldn’t want to be caught in a lie. Osamu seems to believe him, though, and he settles down noticeably after making sure Rin isn’t having too much of a hard time. He does ask for his number, and tells him to contact him if anything ever comes up with Rin or if he just wants to talk. Motoya doesn’t think he’ll follow up on the second offer, but he nods anyways.

Rin comes out of the bathroom a few moments later, and Motoya takes that as his cue to wrap up the conversation and leave. He shakes Osamu’s hand once again, and pats Rin’s shoulder as goodbye. He waves again from the door for good measure, and he’s off to his own apartment. Once he’s finally laying down on his bed, he’s surprised to receive a good night message from the newest contact on his address book, but he types out a quick response anyways.

Good night Miya-san, is what he intends to say, but he remembers Osamu asking him to call him by name, so he changes his response. Good night Osamu :), and he hits send.

Osamu continues to text him afterwards, but contrary to what Motoya initially thought, it’s not exclusively about Rin. Of course, they do talk about him, but Osamu also congratulates him for his own performance after each of their games, asks him about how his week has been going, and asks him about recipes that are too complex and Motoya only half-understands. They talk about High School and Osamu’s twin. Motoya learns that Atsumu has signed with the MSBY Black Jackals, but he hasn’t made it into the starting lineup yet, so they haven’t come across him in any of their games. Motoya sends him memes and videos of Rin practicing or looking completely absorbed by a movie, and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm.

Osamu sends pictures of the dishes he cooks in his classes and the whiteboards from his business lectures. Motoya thinks it must be boring, but he learns that Osamu is apparently good with numbers, so he doesn’t seem to be having too much of a hard time. Autumn gets increasingly colder, their games remain tiring, but Motoya pulls forward like he’s always done. Weekly dinner continues with Rin and Washio, and he starts calling Kiyoomi more often. He hasn’t had the chance to visit Tokyo since July, and the homesickness is starting to get to him. Surprisingly, though, the one he decides to tell about it isn’t Kiyoomi, like he normally would, but Osamu. Motoya knows he’s still living with his family in Hyogo, and Osaka isn’t that far away, but he still asks about how he’s adjusted to living without his twin constantly by his side.

Osamu is surprisingly open with his response, and Motoya feels himself blushing at being met with such vulnerability. Osamu tells him about his childhood, how Atsumu has always been by his side, always connected through punches and volleyball and life. Now they’re both exploring different paths, and even if Atsumu often makes the trip back home or Osamu heads to the Jackals quarters to visit, it’s not the same. He mentions that being a twin is specially complex in that they both have spent their whole lives trying to make themselves two separate individuals, but now that their paths are diverting, Osamu finds himself longing for the times when others could barely tell them apart. It’s a different type of homesickness; Motoya left his home but, in Osamu’s case, it seems like his home left him. It does make Motoya feel a bit better though, and he hopes that Osamu feels better, too.

It’s not the first time he’s done it, but when Rintaro spends most of his time in practice with his hands shoved inside of his shorts, Motoya can’t help but burst out laughing. November has hit them in full force and it seems like Rin’s hands are now colder than ever, so much so that blowing on them doesn’t cut it anymore. Despite all the teasing, though, he feels a bit bad, so whenever they have breaks during practice, he rubs Rin’s hands between his own to warm them up a bit. He tries to be nonchalant about it, because caring about his friends is normal, but he automatically blushes whenever Washio snorts at them. Rin doesn’t say anything, though, so Motoya pretends it’s nothing.

Their movie nights have become increasingly frequent, with Suna lounging in his sofa more often than not. Motoya still doesn’t have a TV, so they have to make do with either his or Rin’s laptop, but none of them complain. They have cut out on the popcorn, though, and decided to have dinner instead, so that they won’t feel the need to snack during the movie. Sometimes, they don’t even watch anything at all, and simply sit together exchanging stories. Rin tells him a bit about his childhood in Aichi, about his little sister and how quickly she’s growing up, about how he was scouted into Inarizaki and how it was meeting the twins. He never lingers much on the topic of his family, and Motoya doesn’t ask either, Rin never seems apprehensive during their conversations, so Motoya feels confident he’s not pressuring him into anything.

One fateful evening, Rin sits extra close to him in the sofa, a mischievous grin in his face, and proudly states that he’s about to share his greatest treasure with Motoya. He looks more excited than Motoya’s ever seen him, and Motoya truly has no clue of what he means. It’s only when Rin pulls his phone out and starts showing Motoya videos of the twins fighting that he finally understands. They seem to be taken at various places within Inarizaki, what looks to be Rin’s old dorm room, a house he can only suppose is the twins’ and some other places in Hyogo. Their hairs are dyed in most of the videos, so it’s fairly easy to recognize them. Atsumu yells a lot more than Osamu does, but it’s clear that it’s the grey-haired twin the one who hits the hardest.

Rin is telling him all he can remember about each fight, and it’s clear to Motoya that he seems the happiest when he talks about his old teammates, when he gets interrupted by his own phone. It’s a Face Time call from Osamu, and Motoya chuckles at the perfect timing. Once Rin answers and Osamu starts complaining about a recent fight he’s had with Atsumu, though, Motoya utterly looses his shit. He doubles over laughing, Rin quick to follow, and Osamu’s perplexed expression stares back at them from Rin’s phone screen. With tears in his eyes, Motoya explains what they had been doing, and Osamu is quick to chastise Rin. The call goes on for longer than initially intended, and all three of them talk for over an hour.

Rin holds the phone between them, they’ve scooted closer together so that both of their faces fit inside the camera’s view. Rin’s head is practically leaning on his shoulder, and their thighs are completely pressed together. Osamu can see all of it through the camera, but he says nothing, so Motoya tries to act naturally. Somewhere along all of their texting, Osamu had shifted from calling him Komori to Motoya. Now that they’re talking, though, it seems that he has made a new shift from Motoya to just Toya. Rin follows his example, and soon enough it becomes a nickname he can’t escape.

His days are filled with “Good morning Toya” messages, and complaints about “Toya, cook something for me”. They set up a group chat where they talk throughout the day. Osamu complains about his homework, Motoya sends memes, and Rin mostly sends candids of Motoya throughout practice. It’s trough said groupchat that Osamu announces he’ll be visiting soon, since he’s got a week without classes after his exams. His cooking classes will also be on hold for that week, so he’ll be coming over to Shizuoka. They have one game scheduled during that week, but luckily it’s a home game, so Osamu will be watching them, too.

When he received the text, Motoya had expected to spend some time with Osamu but mostly leave him alone to catch up with Rin. Instead, he finds himself spending time with the couple more often than not. Osamu stays at Rin’s apartment or goes sight-seeing while they’re training, but he’s taken it upon himself to cook all the meals he can for them. Motoya gets greeted early in the morning with Osamu knocking on his door, a breakfast bento ready for him. He’ll also get dragged into Rin’s apartment directly from practice, where Osamu already has food waiting for them. He usually tries to leave them alone after dinner, but has become incredibly touchy, and so Motoya will find himself sandwiched between them more often than not. They watch movies and old games, and it's all incredibly domestic. He slowly slips into calling Osamu "Samu," like Rin does, and when the week finally comes to an end, he really doesn't want to let him go.

He starts exploiting their group chat more after that, often asking Osamu to settle petty disputes between him and Rin. They decide to watch a series together, too, and their chat starts to become filled with Brooklyn 99 references. They pick it because it’s something entertaining that Osamu can watch while doing his homework, but it also has an interesting enough plot. Motoya and Rin end up binging most of it in his couch during the weekends, and Motoya most definitely does not cry when Jake and Amy get engaged. Rin takes a video and sends it to Osamu, and Motoya promptly kicks him out of his apartment, still teary-eyed.

The first real problem comes on a Wednesday after practice. It’s one of their movie nights where they are actually watching a movie, when Rin suddenly pops the question.

“Say, Toya,” he starts, earning a hum in response, “are you interested in someone right now? As in, interested in dating someone.”

The question comes seemingly out of nowhere, but when he turns to face Rin, his eyes don’t look like he’s joking. “No, I’m not really-” Motoya tries to finish the sentence, but he can’t. And he chokes.

Suddenly, Rin is much more preoccupied with getting him a glass of water than continuing his interrogation, his questioning glare from before quickly replaced with his green eyes wide with concern. Motoya chugs down the glass of water as if it’s the only thing connecting him to life, and exhales deeply once he’s no longer worried about his air supply.

“You good? What happened?” Rin asks, and it’s a natural enough question, but Motoya doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want to know what will happen if he does.

Instead, he points at the popcorn bowl still in his lap. It’s a half-truth anyways, because Motoya is sure that he did feel himself choking on popcorn. Fortunately, his hand obeys him without much trouble, and Rin seems to let go of his previous interrogation in favor of telling him not to die. They carry on watching the movie and Motoya desperately tries to ignore the loud ta-thump of his heart against his ribcage.

Fuck.

Motoya would be lying if he said he wasn’t embarrassed to be googling this, but he just has to know. His search bar stares back at him, his computer screen the only thing illuminating the room, and the words “can you have more than one soulmate” are displayed embarrassingly at the top of his screen.

Motoya was hoping whatever result he gets would calm him down. A clear and concise “no” and he could get back to bed. That would be enough to satisfy him, to reinstate in his sick brain that Rin is off limits and he should be ashamed of himself. What he gets instead is confusing.

The obvious answer should be “no” but instead, Motoya finds countless stories of people not being able to lie to others, despite having already found their soulmate. They all match up, too, and they seem to indicate that soulmates can not only come in pairs but also trios and, in rare cases, quartets.

Motoya spends the night reading stories, asking questions both online and inside his head, eyes wide open despite the late hours. By the time he realizes it’s late and he’ll only get two hours of sleep before he has to wake up for training, Motoya doesn’t even have time to think “fuck”.

Motoya ignores the funny feeling in his chest when he meets Rin at training the next day. He takes longer than he usually would to text Osamu back, and he feels like a hot mess. He hyper-focuses during training, as if only saving the ball could save him from reality. He wants to blame Rin, because honestly, what was he thinking? Asking a question like that while they’re eating popcorn? Absolutely outrageous. So Motoya focuses on their upcoming match, knowing full well it’ll be in Osaka and Osamu will be watching them, and makes sure to include Rin and Washio in his almost military training regimens so that they’re tired (or scared) enough to not ask any questions.

The truth is that Motoya had had a semi-serious relationship during High School. At least, it had been serious to him.

Iizuna Tsukasa had been a good lover, all things considered. At first, Motoya thought he would get caught up with Kiyoomi, much like everyone else, especially after the lint roller incident, but as time went by, Iizuna kept making a conscious effort to include him in every conversation, even going as far as to seek out Motoya, just Motoya. That was, surprisingly, a first. Iizuna was assertive and kind, qualities of a good captain, but Motoya couldn’t help but notice that, when it was just the two of them, he lost some of his assertiveness and became a bit shy. Red dusted the tip of his ears, the faintest blush high on his cheekbones, and his voice had a slight tremble to it. Who could blame Motoya for falling?

Tsukasa treated their love like it was a ritual; he was devoted to it, committed to it in a way that would have been surprising from literally any other high-schooler but him. He was fiercely dedicated to loving and taking care of Motoya, but he never once acted like it was a chore. He’d always text good morning and good night, he’d find the dumbest excuses to visit Motoya’s classroom, he’d tenderly kiss his forearms when they were bruised from practice. And Motoya, never one to be outdone, would try his best to take care of him, too. He’d massage Tsukasa’s shoulders when the pressure of taking over captaincy became too much, he’d cradle his fingers through his hair whenever they hung out in the school yard, just the way he knew his lover liked it, and kissed his worries away whenever he was overthinking.

Even after the breakup, Motoya had never had any regrets with his relationship. It had been the embodiment of puppy love, and Tsukasa had been a good person to fall in love with. There was also the added element of them not being soulmates, which meant that every step of their relationship had been a choice. Of course, it was becoming increasingly more common to date people who weren’t your soulmate, but Motoya still found it to be one of the most endearing aspects of the relationship he shared.

You’re not my soulmate, but I choose to stick by your side. I can lie to you, but I vow not to. Destiny didn’t fate us, but I chose you for myself. I don’t have to love you, but I do. I love you.

Both Tsukasa and Motoya tried to be honest during their relationship. They tried to be open, to communicate, to make it work. It figures lies would end up becoming their undoing. It was the small things, really; white lies to make things easier. “I’m doing fine,” and “We’ll talk about it later” and, “Nothing’s going to change after I graduate.” The last one hadn’t been an intentional lie, but it was a promise that neither of them could keep, and by the time the Spring Tournament of his third year arrived, Motoya was once again single.

Now, he has to face his ex-boyfriend, on opposite sides of the court. The DESEO Hornets are a strong team, but Motoya doesn’t think he’s being biased when he says that the strongest thing about them is their setter. Iizuna had made it into the starting lineup as one of the terms in his contract. Motoya should know, because he read it; he read all of the offers Iizuna received and tried his best to give advice. They even made a spreadsheet together.

The game is grueling, the rallies long and tiring; it goes on for the whole five sets, but the Hornets manage to pull ahead and rip the win away from their hands. Motoya feels absolutely obliterated when the end of the game is signaled by the referee’s whistle. Both teams shake hands under the net and bow from opposite sides of the court. Interviews carry on like they usually do, but just as Motoya is about to retreat to find Rin and Osamu, who surely must be around the court somewhere, somebody else calls for his attention.

Iizuna looks just as handsome as he had back in High School, but Motoya is relieved to find that no old feelings stir inside him during their meetings. They start up an easy conversation, talking about nothing and everything, and Motoya barely notices how close together they actually are. No one seems to notice it anyways, especially with them having attended the same High School, and it isn’t until Iizuna’s hand is resting on his bicep that Motoya realizes their proximity might be a bit over the “friendly” level. He cracks his mind open to say something, anything, that’ll shift the atmosphere, because Iizuna’s ears are becoming red and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he sees something he wants.

Motoya wants to tell him that he’s doing well with his single life. He wants to tell him that, in his mind, Iizuna is just that, Iizuna. No longer Tsukasa like when they were dating. He wants to call him a friend or punch his arm or do anything that’ll set up their new boundaries, but he doesn’t know what to do. In a moment of weakness, he risks a look around the crowd, to consider if maybe giving things another shot might be worth it. They’d still be long distance, but now they’re both playing for professional teams, and things could be different. Maybe Iizuna could help him forget whatever nonsense his mind has created without his permission. He scans his surroundings, in hopes that something will give him the green light to do something about Iizuna’s hand on his arm, but what he finds instead is the complete opposite.

Osamu and Rin are standing side by side, acutely glaring at Iizuna’s hand, and when Motoya smiles at them, they seem to take it as their cue to come over. His ex-boyfriend is still taking about whatever when the pair make it to where they are, Osamu standing close to his left side and Rin resting his head on his right shoulder. Iizuna introduces himself as his old captain and, thankfully, nothing more, and the pair respond with their own names and firm handshakes. None of them lie, and Motoya hopes to any god out there that he isn’t blushing. The air around them feels charged with electricity, until Rin is pulling Motoya away under the pretense of needing to leave.

Motoya barely has time to wave goodbye before Iizuna is completely out of his line of vision, Osamu trailing behind them like a bodyguard. Rin tries to generate a new conversation between them, but Osamu goes for the neck and asks is his captain had been this touchy back when they were in the same team. Motoya doesn’t know how to tell him that this was nothing compared to how they’d been in High School. Instead, he chooses to redirect the conversation and starts making impromptu plans for a movie night in their hotel room, since he’s rooming with Rin this time. He’s already assumed Osamu would be staying the night anyways, and they both seem to accept his change of topic.

Motoya knows he has nothing he should apologize for, it’s not like he owes them an explanation about his past love life or anything like that, but they both seem mildly annoyed at the situation. Even Osamu, who usually dissipates any disagreements that rise up, is too tense to do it. Part of Motoya wants to let them know Iizuna is his ex, but he’s scared that they might judge him for it. After all, they are both soulmates and dating, how would they feel if either of them chose to date a stranger over the person the universe had literally matched them with? Rin hadn’t mentioned anything when Motoya first singled out his singleness, but they hadn’t known each other that well back then. If Motoya were to tell them about Iizuna now, would his reaction be the same?

They part ways while Rin and Motoya shower and change before they meet back again outside. The team is taking the bus back to the hotel, but they’ve opted to walk with Osamu instead, asking Washio to take their things for them. They do some sight seeing around Osaka, and since there is no kitchen available for them, they get takeout from Osamu’s favorite ramen shop. Motoya doesn’t think it’s allowed within their diet, but they’ll probably overtrain once they go back to Shizuoka, so it’s probably fine. He’s walking on Osamu’s left side, while him and Rin walk hand-in-hand next to him, but it doesn’t take long before Rin is sliding his arm around his shoulder and pressing Motoya against himself. Given his internal dilemma, Motoya should probably fight against it, but winter is practically at the door and no one would be foolish enough to reject a hug from human-heater Miya Osamu in this weather.

Once they reach their hotel room, Motoya and Rin take out the food while Osamu hooks up Rin’s laptop to TV. They’re watching an old romance movie that Motoya doesn’t know the name of, but Osamu had promised it didn’t require a lot of brain power, so he had agreed easily. They eat on Rin’s bed, due to the lack of other furniture in the room, and Motoya had initially intended to sit on his own bed, but when he handed Osamu his ramen, he had patted the spot next to him, and that’s how Motoya found himself right in the middle of the couple. They spend the first thirty minutes of the movie mostly in silence while eating, and once they were done and Osamu threw their trash away, they carried on while making small comments here and there.

At certain point, Rin was practically melting on his left, half on top of Motoya, but Motoya knew he was still wide awake, paying attention to the movie. Osamu was pressed flush against him, too, in order to accomodate for three tall adult men taking up a bed meant for two people. If any of them were uncomfortable, they didn’t say it. They stay like that, and by the time they finish the movie, Osamu is somehow caressing Motoya’s wrist. Rin excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Motoya scoots a little bit to the left, but Osamu simply slumps against him, effectively making him stay in place.

Motoya thinks about the first time something like this had happen, a feeling akin to déjà vu taking over his mind. Back then, Osamu hadn’t been anyone to him. He was just Suna’s, recently baptized Rin, boyfriend. Motoya had simply intended to get along decently with him, like Washio, and then move on with his life. Now, he was sharing a bed with Samu, after having spent their whole evening together with Suna, not a single inch of space between them, and he couldn’t help but be amazed at how different the situations were. Could he ever go back, to not having Osamu in his life, after knowing him like this?

The though made Motoya dizzy, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to demand Kiyoomi let him hide inside his room until all of his problems melted away. When had he gotten so ahead of himself, so greedy, so pretentious, to think that he had a place between Osamu and Rin? They were friends, perhaps closer to him than Washio, but that had just been a product of the circumstances. If they had agreed to spend this whole evening with him, it was most likely because they’d feel bad about leaving him alone in the hotel room. Of course they hadn’t been jealous back in the stadium, they probably just thought Iizuna was making him uncomfortable. Rin hadn’t asked about his love life with any ulterior motives, he was simply curious, like any good friend would be.

“What’d ya think of the movie?” Osamu asks, turning to look at him.

Motoya can’t look back into those all-knowing eyes. Instead, he pretends to stretch his back as he yawns, discreetly adding some distance between the two of them. Once he’s sitting upright, he hums before answering. “T’was good, although the girl was nothing like me. I usually like protagonists I can relate to. She was pretty, though.”

“So what, you don’t think you’re pretty?” Osamu asks, his face tilted with genuine curiosity.

Motoya turns to look at him and contemplates lying, but only for a second. After The Fiasco with Rin, he has made a conscious effort to not lie to either of them, not even through text messages. He doesn’t want to know what the fuck happened that day at his apartment, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to try his luck to see if it’ll happen again with Osamu. So instead, he decided to prove that he is indeed a resourceful person, and deflects the question just so to still satisfy Osamu with his answer.

“I… think I got lucky enough with my genes. No one in my family stands out as ugly-I mean, my cousins get hit on all the time-so I suppose I can’t be too bad either. I guess I just don’t think there’s anything that stands out about me, though.” He finishes his statement with a shrug, hoping desperately that it will downplay his confession as something casual, that it’ll hide the fact that this is the first time he’s ever confided this in someone. He hadn’t intended to say so much, but it was like Osamu’s eyes pulled the truth from within him.

He thought he’d be fine saying it. It’s something he’s rationalized countless times inside his own head over the years. It’s nothing new, nothing that should be shocking, but Motoya belatedly realizes that his hands are slightly shaking and he feels like he just ripped his chest open for Osamu to dissect his insides. He finds himself wondering if he should’ve just said “no” and laughed it off, but it’s too late for that now, so instead he looks away from Osamu, who is looking at him with those gorgeous gray eyes of his filled with an unreadable emotion.

“Y’know, Toya,” he starts, taking a hold of his hand and caressing his knuckles with his thumb, “I think yer really pretty, but I know it doesn’t really count unless ya think it, too. For how mentally tough yer on court, I wish ya would apply that a bit more into yer personal life, too. Yer a great guy, Toya. Not only on the court, but as a person, too.” Osamu sighs after he’s done, and he looks like he’s contemplating something, before his face straightens in resolve and he continues.

“Rin ‘n I aren’t usually great ‘round others. We’re a bit rough ‘round the edges, and I’m not sure we have winner personalities like yers, but I think we really lucked out by having ya in our lives. I mean it, Toya.”

Despite the lump in his throat and the knot in his stomach, Motoya nods and squeezes the hand that’s still holding his and relishes in the warmth of the contact. It is then that he realizes that he is completely and utterly fucked.

Once Rin comes back from the bathroom, Motoya claims he’s sleepy and moves towards his own bed. He tells himself it’s just his mind playing tricks when Osamu seems reluctant to let his hand go and Rin’s eyes look the tiniest bit disappointed.

Motoya intends to ask his cousin about his day during the phone call. He intends to ask how he’s been doing, talk a bit about his games and establish some sort of conversation before asking him about the situation. What happens instead is this.

“Kiyo! We have a Tsukasa situation!”

“You got back together with Tsukasa!?”

“No! But I like someone just like I used to like Tsukasa! Well, sort of.”

“So you have a boyfriend?”

“No!” And Motoya promptly bursts out crying.

Kiyoomi listens to him in silence, like he’d do if they were in the same room, but this time there’s no awkward pats in his back and Motoya really fucking misses his cousin. The team is back in Shizuoka, and if Motoya didn’t have training tomorrow morning, he’d already be on the train heading to Tokyo. Instead, he sobs hopelessly into his phone, sitting alone on an empty apartment, crying about a love that can’t be.

Motoya had avoided talking too much about Rin and Osamu, because Kiyoomi had always been too perceptive when it came to him, and perhaps Motoya had been running away from the feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge, even back then. Once he’s able to steady his breathing, though, he recounts every detail of the story from the beginning, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Kiyoomi hums occasionally, but never once interrupts him, and once he’s done, Motoya wants to cry again. He does so, and this time his cousin shushes on the other end of the line. He’s never done that before, but he’s always found unconventional ways to offer consolation to others. Once Motoya’s breathing evens out, except for the lone hiccup here and there, Kiyoomi begins his intervention.

“What are you thinking, Motoya?” He asks, because despite his cold demeanor, he’s always made an effort to understand him.

“I just- I feel so fucking stupid Kiyo,” he hiccups. “They’ve been such good friends to me, and here I go, falling in love, like an idiot. This isn’t like it was with Iizuna, he didn’t have a soulmate either, he wasn’t dating his soulmate, he was the one who approached me first. Now what am I supposed to do, tell them and what? Demand them to let me get in between their relationship?”

His question lingers in the air for a few seconds, before Kiyoomi’s eloquent reply comes.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Kiyoomi what the fu-”

“Listen,” his cousin continues, “from what you tell me, it seems like they might have an interest in you too. ‘Just friends’ don’t spend all their couple time together with someone else. Clearly willingly.” He adds, before Motoya can protest. “I know you think that this has all been a huge confusion, but don’t you think it’s worth it to give it a shot?”

“I’m scared Kiyo. What if I loose them?”

“Then I’ll be right here for you to yell at me, but you shouldn’t give up on your happiness before you’ve given it a chance.”

Once Christmas break rolls around, Motoya loudly declares to both Rin and Washio that he’s going to Tokyo to spend the Hollidays with his family. Washio wishes him a safe trip, and Rin looks slightly distressed, but he ends up wishing him a merry Christmas too.

After his hours-long phone call with his cousin, Motoya made his resolve to completely ignore his advice and pretend to not know anything about his feelings. He acts as normal as possible with Rin and Osamu, but he’s been trying to set up a safe distance from them. His movie nights with Rin have dwindled, and he texts Osamu much less frequently. He still sends memes to their group chat from time to time, and his weekly dinner nights with Washio and Rin are still going full force, but he’s decided to give himself a break. He’d initially called it a detox, but the analogy made him want to cry, so he settled on “break.”

He’s been spending a lot more time with Washio, but the most he gets from him is a raised eyebrow, and Motoya is infinitely thankful that his friend doesn’t like to bring things up. He hates feeling like he’s avoiding Rin though, especially when he looks like a kicked puppy every time Motoya declines an invitation. The worst part is that, to an outsider, his expression wouldn’t have changed at all, but somewhere along the past few months Motoya has become an expert in reading those magnificent green eyes. Osamu calls him once, but it’s late enough that Motoya can text him back the next morning and pretend he had been sleeping already.

His heart feels like it’s being torn to shreds, but Motoya repeats that it’s for the best over and over in his head like a mantra. He invests most of his new-found free time in practice, and barely watches old matches because he’d hate to do it without Rin by his side. He asks Washio to hang out, too, one-on-one, which is surprisingly helpful at calming down his anxiety. His friend doesn’t ask prodding questions and instead hooks Motoya up with some manga he’s been reading. Motoya usually doesn’t like action mangas, and he’s sure that on normal circumstances he would’ve dropped it after the first volume or so, but he needs something to occupy his mind with, so he reads all the available chapters until he catches up with the story. Washio seems pleased by this, excitedly rambling about his favorite character’s backstory, and Motoya considers it a small victory.

He doesn’t let any of it affect his play, and it seems like Rin is committed to not letting it affect his either. It’s not like there’s much he should be affected by, in the first place, but Motoya supposes everyone would feel wounded if a close friend started acting weird. There’s an itch under his skin that urges him to soothe Rin’s and Samu’s worries away. He wants to tell them that it’s all temporary, that they haven’t stopped being friends, that they’ll get to hang out again once Motoya gets a grip on himself, but instead he does his best to deflect the attention to anything but their current predicament. He’s still very much to afraid to lie to them, so he can’t tell them that everything’s fine because it isn’t, but he can’t tell them that either.

When Motoya is finally able to make his escape to Tokyo, Kiyoomi welcomes him at the station with a face that screams that his classes are killing him. Motoya indulges himself with a hug from his favorite cousin for about five seconds before he lets go, and together they head home in a very familiar route. Kiyoomi, as per usual, will be spending Christmas with the Komoris; Motoya’s mom had rambled about “missing her two boys so much” for weeks before their visit was scheduled, so he thinks he can expect a very warm welcome. Motoya will be staying for Christmas Eve and Christmas, before he has to return to Shizuoka on the 26th. Kiyoomi, on the other side, will be staying with his family until New Years before he heads back to his dorm.

They don’t talk about the issue after Motoya has greeted his family. They don’t talk about it when they’re alone in Motoya’s room, or when they’re alone washing the dishes in the kitchen. They don’t talk about it when they’re getting ready for bed or when they’re laying still awake and side-by-side after the lights are off. They don’t talk about it the next morning, when they’re eating breakfast together, and they don’t talk about it when Motoya’s sisters are asking him for any recent gossip in his life. It is only when Motoya’s phone buzzes with a text message from their group chat and he pockets it away without responding that Kiyoomi looks at him with annoyance and a hint of sadness in those big black eyes of his. Still, they don’t talk about it.

Motoya accompanies his father to KFC so that they can pick up their order, needing something to distract himself with. Their trip is as chaotic as it is to be expected, considering the date, but otherwise uneventful, and they make it back home with the chicken. They do a lot of catching up over dinner and after it, it takes so much of their time that they barely have time to play a couple rounds of UNO afterwards. The Komoris are big on board games during celebrations, but since it’s a special occasion, none of them complain much about the change of plans. When the clock hits 12:00, the all hug and wish each other Merry Christmas. By the time they finish exchanging gifts, it’s almost 1:00 AM, but Motoya knows he won’t be able to sleep if he doesn’t do it.

He slips out of the house, phone in hand, and makes a group call with the people he’s been avoiding for the past few weeks. Osamu is the one who picks up, after one ring, and Motoya feels like he’s going to throw up. They both stay in silence for a few seconds, and Motoya can hear some faint fireworks go off from Osamu’s side of the line. He takes a deep breath in, and tries his best to control the tremble in his voice when he speaks.

“Hi Samu, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Toya.” Comes his response, barely above a breath. “Didja have fun with yer family?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, “t’was fun. How about you? Is Rin with you?”

“Yeah, he came back to Hyogo. Tsumu’s here too, with my Ma.” And from the loud bickering that rises in the background, Motoya supposes that neither Rin nor Atsumu can come to the phone right now. Not like he wanted to talk to Atsumu, anyways.

“Sounds fun.” Motoya mumbles, hoping his voice makes it all the way to the other side of the line.

“It was fun.” Osamu exhales. “We missed ya, you know?”

Motoya wants to cry. Instead, he tells Osamu he missed them, too.

They stay on the phone like that for a while, the line silent except for steady breathing, until it becomes too cold outside and they both mumble their good nights. Motoya gets back inside the house and heads straight for his room. He has a train to catch in a couple of hours, and he knows he won’t be getting any sleep in it, so he better take advantage of what little rest he’ll get. Kiyoomi is already asleep in his bed when he enters the room, it’s the silent punishment he’s given Motoya for his cowardice, and Motoya tries his best to be quiet as he slips under the futon’s covers. They hug each other goodbye before Motoya leaves for the train station a few hours later, and he gets a squeeze this time, too. He doesn’t squeeze back.

It’ll be a couple of hours until the train arrives at Shizuoka, but instead of playing music as he normally would, Motoya lets himself marinate in his own thoughts. About volleyball. About Rin. About Samu. About the team and their score so far in the season. About love. About soulmates. About Iizuna Tsukasa and how he had loved him without any fated connection. About how that’s never going to happen again. His body works on autopilot until he’s stripping out of his clothes and flopping onto the sofa in the tiny apartment he now calls home. It smells faintly like Rin, and Motoya falls asleep dreaming about him.

They have a special fan even scheduled during New Years, two home games scheduled in the following two weeks, and an away game in Osaka before the month comes to an end. Despite his distressed emotional state, Motoya submerges himself in practice like he’s been doing with every problem he’s had since he entered the team. Washio scolds him about heading home at a proper time whenever he stays behind; Rin simply looks at him for a couple of seconds before heading home by himself. They haven’t talked much since they returned from the Hollidays, but Rin did give him a Christmas gift when they saw each other again.

None of them mention Motoya’s phone call with Osamu, even though Motoya knows Rin knows, but Rin wishes him a belated merry Christmas and says he hoped he had fun with his family. He had also extended a small gift towards him, telling Motoya to open it once he’s home so he won’t loose it. The next day, he heads to practice with the Vabo-chan phone charm diligently attached to his phone case. He snaps a mirror selfie and sends him to Osamu, because his name had been on the card too, and hopes his friends won’t hate him for acting so weird about a Christmas present. He wishes he could’ve just said thanks like a normal person would.

Rin starts staying behind for practice with him as their game closes in on them, slamming serves with an amount of force Motoya has rarely seen him use. Lots of them land out of bounds, but the ones Motoya does receive leave his arms stinging for hours after practice. He supposes it’s fair, though he is a bit surprised Rin hasn’t told him to go fuck himself yet. When Motoya is feeling especially helpless, he replays all the events that had led him down this path, wondering what he could’ve done differently to prevent him from falling in love. He only ever admits it in his mind, the words feeling too strong to voice them to anyone, even when he’s alone.

Motoya manages to successfully hide in his shell for almost the whole month. They win their two home games, and he actually joins the team for celebratory drinks even if he can’t technically drink yet. He prepares tirelessly for their game against the Black Jackals, and tries not to think about all the connotations behind it. Motoya stretches, brews tea, pretends to read a book and even tries to pick up another of Washio’s stupid manga recommendations, but nothing seems to please him and he ends up rewatching Brooklyn 99 alone in his sofa. He thinks about texting Osamu or walking down the hall to Rin’s apartment more times than it’s probably sane, but he holds onto his own metaphoric leash and forces himself to maintain his resolve. Until he can face them and not feel unspeakable feelings, he needs to keep his distance.

Motoya holds onto the leash tightly the whole way to Osaka, holds onto the leash tightly as they make their way inside the gym, holds onto the leash tightly when he spots Atsumu on the other team’s bench, and all he can think about is his brother, holds the leash tightly when he gets in position to play. He only trusts himself enough to forget about the leash during the match. During those glorious but exhausting five sets, the only think occupying his thoughts is to connect. He knows he’s done his best when the final whistle signals the end of the match, but they still loose to the Jackals.

It’s fair, Motoya supposes; the Jackas are an incredibly strong team, and there’s always next time. He tells so to the few sports reporters interested in interviewing him after the game, and it is only after he’s done with them that he realizes he is well and utterly fucked. He accidentally locks eyes with Atsumu, who is doing some arm stretches on the other side of the court, and that’s all the warning he gets before he feels two warm presences appear behind him. He grits his teeth, but smiles anyways and turns to face Osamu and Rin, who have rather somber expressions on their faces. He tries looking around for Washio, but the bastard has left him alone, and now he has to face the objects of his affections and reasons for his troubles.

They head back to Osamu’s hotel room, with Rin practically demanding that he hangs out with them, and Motoya would’ve found it adorable if he didn’t want the Earth to open up and swallow him whole. They stop for takeout on the way, onigiri this time, and they eat in silence at the small table in the room. Motoya hates every single second of it, and he hates that he’s the one who caused this. They should be having some alone time, or Osamu should be catching up with his borther, celebrating with him, but instead here they are. With him. Motoya doesn’t know what to do with that information.

They stand up once they’re all done, trailing after Rin to settle down and watch a movie, with Motoya once more in the middle, when Rin stops in his tracks. He turns around, and he’s close, so close, hesitating only a second before his eyes burn with resolve.

“Toya, have you ever lied to us?” He asks, and Motoya wonders if Osamu is just as shocked as he is. His eyes widen, and if he was someone else he’d be gaping at the question, but Rin doesn’t back down. Instead, he stares intently at Motoya, demanding an answer from him.

Motoya thinks about their conversation from what seems to be a lifetime ago. About how easy it had been to answer back then, about how Rin had already known his answer. This time around though, a thick lump takes place in his throat, and Rin’s green eyes tell him that Rin isn’t so sure this time around. He has to come clean, he realizes, and he tries to stop his hands from shaking when he replies.

“No.” His voice is low, but it isn’t unsteady. He makes sure to correct the volume when he continues. “No, I don’t lie to you.”

“Why won’t you just do it?” Rin pleads, eyes watery and patience running thin. “It’s like you don’t even want us, Toya! Is that it?” he asks, looking horrified at the possibility that Motoya might not like them. He doesn’t cry though, and Motoya feels Osamu stiffen at his back.

Rin is frowning now, and the primal part of him wants to reach out and ease it off his face, but he can’t. At least not yet. He’s been a terrible friend to both Rin and Osamu, regardless of his feelings. He owes them as much honesty as he can give them, because they deserve to know why.

“What if it was a mistake?” He asks instead. “What if it was all timing and I actually just choked? What if I try to lie to you or Samu and I can? What then, Rin?” He feels breathless and his eyes sting with unshed tears, but he refuses to keep quiet anymore.

Rintarou looks shocked at his question, like it isn’t something that he had even considered up until this point. Motoya holds his gaze, even though he supposes he looks pathetic. He wants to see what his reply will be, wants to see if he’ll continue to fight him or if he’ll finally give up on him, like he was supposed to do so long ago. Instead, he’s spun around in a motion that screams desperation, forced to face those piercing grey eyes he’s come to love over the past few months.

“Toya,” Osamu’s hands cup his cheeks, and he can’t breathe. “D’ya think we wouldn’t want ya, it that was the case? We like ya, not under the condition that yer our soulmate or anythin’ like that, but because yer you. Yer our Toya. Ya belong here, with us, soulmates or not.”

Rin’s arm snakes around his waist, and Motoya is once again reminded of their proximity, of how he’s sandwiched between the two of them. “Baby,” he whispers, as if afraid to ruin the atmosphere Osamu has created with his words, “everything Samu said is true, but you know as well as we do that it wasn’t a mistake. So, please, could you give it a try? For us?”

Motoya thinks about this past month and how difficult his life has been. He thinks about the months before that, and all the things Rin and Osamu have given him. It’s only now that he realizes that that list includes their hearts. His own heart clenches at the thought, and he feels incredibly stupid and incredibly sorry to them both. He realizes that, despite his initially selfless intentions, he wants to be selfish with this. With them. He wants to try it out, soulmates or not, and so, he stops refraining himself.

“Samu,” he starts, staring at the man in front of him and giving his own hands a squeeze for reassurance. “My hair is-” he can’t continue. Motoya clears his throat and tries again. “Osamu, my hair’s-” this time he chokes. Osamu is still cradling his face, eyes bright with his own unshed tears, but Motoya isn’t done yet. Instead, he turns around.

“Rin,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice from breaking. “My hair- The color of my hair-” and he can’t finish his sentence, either.

Rintarou smiles at him, that beautiful, unapologetic smile that’s reserved for special occasions only. occasions like finding one’s soulmate. Motoya smiles back.

“Rin, Samu,” he says instead, “I love you.” And the words come out, no problem.