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Former members of Dusk speak out for the first time after 10 years in the upcoming Netflix documentary, Dusk & Dawn

Speaking out for the first time since the most tragic disbandment in idol history ten years ago, several ex-members of the Japanese idol group that had once upon a time shot up to super-stardom, Dusk, sit down for one-on-one interviews to finally speak freely about everything. And yes, before you call bullsh*t, we do mean everything. From their childhood upbringings that range from picturesque to destructive, their harsh trainee years where they learned that beauty always comes with pain, the eight year whirlwind that was their explosive career, how it all started and ended with a bang, what exactly led to all the events that had caused so much controversy, the devastating end to it all, and what their lives have looked like since then. The documentary about one of the most controversial idol groups of all time, ‘Dusk & Dawn’ will be streaming on Netflix on December 1. 

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Miya Atsumu (35, singer, former member of Dusk): Ah-ah-ah. Hellooo. Hello hello hello. Is the mic workin’ okay? My earrings aren’t makin’ noise, are they?

Interviewer: They are, actually.

Miya Atsumu: [angrily takes off his dangling earrings] God fuckin’ damn it. This always happens. 

Hinata Shoyo (34, singer, former member of Dusk): Waaah, it’s been a while since I’ve done an interview this serious! Wow, there are so many cameras here… this is kinda scary. Can you guys at least smile a little? [pause] Hehehe. Yay.

Sakusa Kiyoomi (34, actor, former member of Dusk): How are you guys gonna open the documentary? Is it gonna be one of those things where you show a highlight of our best moments and performances, then everything turns black and white as you bombard everyone with screenshots of all the news articles, controversies, and our eventual disbandment, then you show us right now, sitting our asses on these couches one by one, putting our mics on to symbolize us speaking out for the first time, ten years later? 

Interviewer: …. I mean–

Sakusa Kiyoomi: [chuckles, shaking his head] You guys are so fucking predictable. 

Bokuto Koutarou (36, performance director, former member and leader of Dusk): So, you guys just want me to tell you everything, huh? It’s really funny, you know! We used to get into a looooot of trouble with our company back then for wanting to do stuff like this.

Interviewer: Stuff like what?

Bokuto Koutarou: [smiles] Stuff like wanting to be honest. 

Suna Rintarou (35, music producer, former member of Dusk): How long is this gonna take? Holy shit, I couldn’t get any damn sleep last night thinking about having to do this. I haven’t sat in front of a camera in… 

Interviewer: Ten years?

Suna Rintarou: [head in hands] Dear God.  

Interviewer: You’re in your mid-thirties, Suna-san.

Suna Rintarou: Never say that to me ever again. 

Kageyama Tobio (34, singer, former member of Dusk):  I’m good. Can we start now?

Interviewer: Okay. Alright, so I’ll start with the most simple. It’s been ten years since the breakup. I know, obviously, that most of you remain good friends and are still occasionally spotted out in public together. But everyone’s always been curious. After everything that happened… as a whole group, do you guys still gather together? Is there still a group chat? Is that friendship and camaraderie still alive? 

Kageyama Tobio: Yes.

Suna Rintarou: It’s rare that we get to meet up now since everyone’s really busy. But, yeah. When we find time. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Yes.

Miya Atsumu: Is that a joke? Of course, we still have a group chat. Don’t ask for the name, though. I think Shoyo changed it to somethin’ gross recently.

Hinata Shoyo: Yes! Our group chat is named [bleeeeeep]. [grins, proudly]

Bokuto Koutarou: Hahaha! Just because the public doesn’t see it anymore, it doesn’t mean it’s stopped. Of course, we’re all still friends. I don’t think there could be a way for us to not be friends!

Interviewer: Even after everything?

Bokuto Koutarou: What do you mean? I think I would say it’s because of everything!

Miya Atsumu: It’s hard to describe, y’know? Bein’ in a band together. It’s like you’re not just co-workers, you’re not just friends, you’re not just roommates, they’re kinda like family but also not exactly like family, and they’re kinda like lovers but not exactly like lovers. It’s fuckin’ weird. All you do know is that… you’re all after the same thing. To succeed. And you all know that in order to do that, you’ve gotta be a team whether you like each other or not. And that… can really bond people together, especially when you’re teenagers. Whether we liked it or not. 

Interviewer: Why do you say it like that? Did you not all like each other before?

Suna Rintarou: Oh, brother.

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Why don’t you try sharing a dorm with six other teenage boys who you also have to work with? See how you like that. 

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Nineteen Years Ago

When thirteen year old Miya Atsumu had entered his first audition for Black Jackals Entertainment (later affectionately nicknamed The Sloppy BJ by Suna Rintarou),  he only expected to have to sing and dance. Maybe even rap or play an instrument which he wouldn’t have minded, since he did know how to play the piano and he did memorize Ludacris’ verse on Baby by Justin Bieber. Some guys even had to do a catwalk and pose like a model but according to Osamu, that was saved for the people who’d been scouted for their looks and apparently, that couldn’t have been the case for Atsumu. Which was fucking ridiculous because they have the same face, so if he wasn’t scouted for his looks than neither was Osamu. The idiot. 

Atsumu bowed, introduced himself, sang Tiny Dancer by Elton John and danced Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson. The judges smiled and suddenly started asking him questions. That was a problem. He wasn’t prepared for questions. 

The first question was, ‘What made you decide to become an idol at such a young age?’  And to that, Atsumu’s mouth had answered, ‘Because I love music and performing.’ 

But his mind had answered; ‘In a wise song of a wise man named Justin Drew Bieber feat. Ludacris, ‘When I was thirteen, I had my first love. There was nobody that compared to my baby, and no one ever came between us or could ever come above.’  Except in his case, it’s that he was thirteen and had his first love, his first love was named Kageyama Tobio, they’d never spoken a word to each other but they took the same dance classes, and he later learned that he was signed here. And so. Here he is.

They didn’t need to know that, though. 

Their second question was, ‘What do you love most about music and performing?’ That one was easier. Atsumu shrugged, smiled and said, ‘Because it’s fun. Even when it’s hard… It's still fun. And I like havin’ fun.’ 

For some reason, after that, he was in. Osamu had auditioned by singing Sweet Caroline while playing the guitar. Then, he got in too.

“Did they ask you questions?” Atsumu asked.

“Yeah.”

“Like what?” 

“Like why I chose to come to Black Jackals."

“What’d you say?”

Osamu looked at him like he was stupid. “Because you wanted to go here, stupid. Where else was I gonna go?” 

And that was that. That was three years ago. 

The first trainee the twins met when they joined the debut team was Bokuto Koutarou who was twice their size, had twice their talent, but had thrice the size of anyone’s heart. He took them under his wing the same way he’d taken Kageyama Tobio under his wing when he first entered, then in came Hinata Shoyo, then Suna Rintarou, and then Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

Then, Black Jackals said, “Alright, that’s it. You guys are gonna have to work together for the rest of your lives, probably. Get along.” 

Like it was that easy. Like it was that simple. Like they weren’t fully capable of fatally injuring each other and weren’t just waiting for the right opportunity to do it. 

“Hinata-kun!” Their dance teacher, Ukai Keishin, scolds for the third time that night, “Your timing is still off.”

“You dumbass!” Kageyama yells, turning to glare at the orange-haired kid. Atsumu winces. 

His little crush on Kageyama Tobio from three years ago had only lasted three weeks into training. He learned that it’s one thing to find someone attractive and it’s another to want to date them. And he is not a masochist. 

“Stop yelling at me all the time! Do you think it helps when you yell at me? Well, it doesn’t! It makes me feel worse!” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto interrupts, coming to step in between the two with his arms held out like Jesus of Nazareth trying to maintain peace. Atsumu is not jealous of his job. “No fighting during practice! Save it for the team meeting later, okay? What are my rules?” 

“Be punctual, be cool, be nice.” They say in unison and in pout.

“Be nice.” He repeats.

“Yes, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu looks at Osamu and Suna and they all snort at each other through the mirrors. 

Ukai rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. That’s enough, boys. I think everyone needs to take a short breather. Take ten.”

“Yesss.” Suna says under his breath, along with a mini fist-pump. 

As they all head for their respective towels and water bottles, Kiyoomi turns to Hinata and asks, “Hey. What the hell is going on with you today? That sucked even for you.” 

He collapses onto the practice room floor, squirms until he’s facedown, and then dramatically presents them with his phone screen as he says into the hardwood floor, “Oikawa Tooru and Haiba Alisa’s sex tape got leaked.”

This announcement is followed by multiple spit takes. “What?”  

They all dive for the phone, forming a half circle frantically around Hinata’s half dead body. 

“Haiba Alisa and Oikawa Tooru?”  Osamu stares at the wall in horror, “What the fuck. He’s straight?”  He asks under his breath. 

“She’s Russian??” Bokuto exclaims, pressing in closer to read the article. 

“That’s not the problem! I’ve had a crush on her since forever.” Hinata laments, “How am I supposed to compete with Oikawa Tooru?”

“By losing.”

“But actually, if you keep reading… apparently, they’ve never even had sex.” 

Kageyama spits his water out again, before decidedly putting it down for his own safety. “What???”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Kiyoomi asks, like he’s scared to hear the answer. 

Atsumu makes a face like he’s trying to solve a math problem. “So, how could their sex tape leak when there was no… sex to tape?”

“Man. I hate it when that happens to me.” Suna says with pursed lips, nodding seriously like he understands. 

A few feet away from them, Ukai hides his face in his hands and heaves an exhausted sigh coming from the depths of his soul. He looks down at the folder on his lap where he’s supposed to write notes on the progress they’ve made, one by one and as a cohesive unit before turning it in for submission. He skims through what he has written so far.

Bokuto Koutarou - Oldest trainee, natural leader (everyone respects him and gets along with him), jack of all trades, endless positivity during practice. Ready to debut and has everything it takes to make it. 

Kageyama Tobio - A generational talent, a bit combative, lacks social awareness and social skills, but makes up for it with his work ethic and passion. (Will need to work on being a team player.)

Miya Atsumu - There are very few who have the star quality that he does. Highly skilled in dance, vocals, and songwriting. Can be aggressive but everyone finds it funny for the most part. (Doesn’t get along with Sakusa Kiyoomi, will need to work on that.)

Miya Osamu - A little more reserved than his twin but just as talented. Beautiful and stable vocals. Gets along with everyone, has the right attitude, works hard and is charismatic. It would be good to market this team using the twins.

Hinata Shoyo - Skillwise, there’s a lot to improve on but he’s willing to do the work. He loves the team and they love him back, natural moodmaker, all coaches believe that he has what it takes. A hidden weapon. The team needs him.

Suna Rintarou - Has an ear for music that this company has never seen, effortlessly charming, a musical genius and a uniquely pretty face. Great team player, skilled producer. He’s  vital.

Sakusa Kiyoomi - Ethereal voice, beautiful dance lines, piercing facial features and expression. Looks the best on camera. A bit stand-offish but the members never take it personally. Good teamplayer, putting aside The Atsumu Problem.

Overall Teamwork: Has infinite potential. 

He looks up at the seven boys and only really hopes for one thing. That in debuting and succeeding, they each find their own happiness. Because he doesn’t, for one second, doubt that they will succeed. 

“Okay, boys. Off your asses! Break’s over!” 

*

Atsumu is painfully aware of the fact that every coach, teacher, and higher-up who has ever trained them or watched them train have profiles and notes written about them. And he also happens to know that those notes will decide whether or not they get to debut. But he is also of the opinion that none of them actually know any shit of substance about them and if they wanted accurate profiles and notes, they should’ve just asked him to write them. 

Bokuto Koutarou - He is here because while the rest of his peers were busy developing common sense,  he was busy polishing his dance lines. It paid off.

Kageyama Tobio - He brings out the horny animal part inside every human being that feels the urge to howl at the moon, go into heat, and find a mate. Oh, and also he’s good at everything. 

Hinata Shoyo - Not sure how he’s survived the Earth this long but if anyone hurts him, I will kill everyone involved and then myself. 

Suna Rintarou - Motherfucker. A genius, though.

Miya Osamu - Only here on account of nepotism. (His twin brother is a generational talent and a superstar in the making.) He’s okay, I guess.

Miya Atsumu - The greatest person you will ever meet.

Sakusa Kiyoomi - Have this removed. 

Atsumu will probably never forget the day Sakusa Kiyoomi came in. Walking into the door already carrying the confident swagger of a celebrity, curly locks sitting prettily like shiny waves over his forehead, the most beautiful resting bitch face the world had ever seen, looking like an upper middle class douchebag. 

It was disdain at first sight. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is the son of a super famous retired rockstar. Miya Atsumu is the son of a super dumbass retired taxi driver who lost his driver’s license to alcoholism. So, really, putting aside all the ways that that would make their lives very different, they’ve probably both had to peel their vomit-covered fathers off the floor and drag them to bed, so it’s all very to-may-to to-mah-to. Or it would be if Sakusa Kiyoomi wasn’t probably raised in a big house with two floors and a pebbled walkway that led to their front gate, while Atsumu and Osamu were mainly here so that they could one day buy their family a house with more than one bedroom. 

Okay, so, it was more than disdain. It’s jealousy and resentment. It’s an inferiority complex. It’s him being petty for no good reason. Osamu’s fucking words. Whatever. 

Long story short, when Kiyoomi introduced himself to him with a, “Sorry, I forgot what Washijo-san said. Who are you again?” Atsumu had looked away and muttered a low, “Prick.” To which Kiyoomi had answered with a simple and scathing, “Hello, prick. I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi.” 

And that was that. That was a year ago. 

Not much has changed since. 

“You were in the wrong position, Miya. You were off.” Kiyoomi says through gritted teeth, pushing his hair back as he says it. Atsumu prays that the swoop in his gut comes from annoyance and nothing else. “That’s why we keep fucking bumping into each other.”

“No, actually, you need to travel further out when you move to the next formation. That’s why we keep bumpin’ into each other. It’s that fuckin’ simple, Omi-kun.” 

“Why the hell do you always have to make things more difficult than they have to be? Why must you argue with me over every goddamn thing?” 

“Now, now, friends–” Bokuto starts to say in an attempt to diffuse the situation, as always. 

Atsumu does not hear anything, as always. “Me? You’re the one who’s always out to get me! None of these guys get half the shit that you give me even when I barely ever fuck up–”

“Guys…” Hinata tries, gently.

Kageyama sighs and grabs his towel, knowing they’re about to get another spontaneous, unearned break. Ukai crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the mirrors, as if waiting for them to remember that he’s in the room. Suna takes his phone out to secretly film everything. 

Kiyoomi scoffs and rolls his eyes, wiping the sweat off his forehead and yanking at his wet T-shirt that had been sticking to his abs like it’s paper-mache. God fucking damn him. “You’re mistaking ‘barely ever fucks up’ with ‘barely ever admits to fucking up.’”

“Tch. Pot meets kettle.” Osamu says monotonously.

“Shut your fuckin’ trap, Samu!” 

“Stay out of this, Osamu.” 

“See? SEE?!” Atsumu gestures wildly, “Look at that! Why does he get to be called by his name? Why do I get ‘Miya’ or ‘prick’ or ‘hey, asshole’? Do I not even deserve the respect of being called by my goddamn name? I’ve been a trainee longer than you, you fucking piece of sh–”

He’s abruptly cut off by Suna tripping over his own shoelaces trying to get a better angle of the fight. He drops his phone and the screen makes a loud, sad cracking noise as it clatters onto the floor. 

It’s dead quiet as everyone stares at it. 

“Okay…” Bokuto says carefully, “Well, there’s no need to throw things.”

Ukai tiredly opens his folder to write something down. 

Overall Teamwork: Has infinite potential.  Needs improvement. But entertaining to watch and good for variety show purposes.

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Bokuto Koutarou: Hmm… I don’t remember any fighting, so I couldn’t tell you! In my memories, the seven of us were pretty much immediately in love with each other. [laughs] We got along well! Like one big happy family. [pause] … Huh. There may have been some fights in the early days, actually, but my memory’s all hazy. 

Ukai Keishin (56, creative director, former coach of Dusk): A team is never born. A team is made. And they were… tougher to make than most. Not for a lack of talent or drive, mind you. I think it’s because there was too much of it. Every single one of those guys were so driven, so talented and they wanted it so badly. So, they worked together well but they were… competitive. 

Miya Atsumu: It’s not really that Omi did anythin’ wrong, at first. I just didn’t like the vibe he gave off. Like… he was better than all of us, like he was above our level or something. So, y’know, I was a dumb kid and I was a bit of an asshole to him. But this is Omi-kun we’re talkin’ about so of course, he didn’t take my shit sitting down. He was an asshole to me right back. I just thought he had a huge stick up his ass and an ego the size of a fuckin’ skyscraper… No, actually, I still think that. And then, I saw how good he was at everything, how hard he worked, how passionate he was, how stupidly pretty, and I knew they were gonna debut him. I knew he was gonna make it, I just knew. And I fuckin’ hated that. I mean, with his reputation of bein’ Sakusa Kentaro’s son, I had this sort of prejudiced line of thinking, y’know? That maybe this fucker didn’t have to work half as hard as I did to get to where I was. Which, obviously, I was very, very wrong about but I didn’t know that at the time! So, yeah. That’s what it was. I thought he was so fuckin’ full of himself.

Interviewer: So, why didn’t you get along with Atsumu, Sakusa-kun?

Sakusa Kiyoomi: [shrugs] He talked too much.

Hinata Shoyo: Well! The honest answer is that I thought they were just kidding. I thought that was just how they joked around and how their friendship worked? I didn’t really notice that they actually didn’t like each other. I was very hyper-focused on improving and debuting with the team. I had tunnel vision at the time. [chuckles] But if you ask me, I don’t think those two ever hated each other. I think Atsu-san and Omi-san always kinda liked each other. And they just really, really hated that. 

Kageyama Tobio: I’m not sure I noticed anything different between them… I mean, Sakusa-san didn’t seem to talk to me any differently to how he did with Atsumu-san. And Atsumu-san talked to me the way he talked to Sakusa-san, so I didn’t know there was anything to notice.

Suna Rintarou: Tobio said that? [laughs hysterically, slaps his knee] That’s ‘cause Kiyoomi didn’t like Tobio’s cocky attitude as much as he hated Atsumu’s, and Atsumu had a boner for Tobio almost as hard as the one he had for Kiyoomi. It was fucking hilarious. Back then, I’m pretty sure that was one of Atsumu’s most pressing concerns. ‘Who’s the reason I woke up with sticky underwear this morning? Broody black-haired genius #1 or #2?’

Interviewer: Atsumu-kun did mention entering Black Jackals because of his crush on Kageyama Tobio. Did anything ever actually happen between those two over the years?

Suna Rintarou: Nah, Tobio’s straight. We found that out early on. Which is depressing.

Interviewer: For Atsumu?

Suna Rintarou: For the community. 

Ukai Keishin: Man. There sure was a lot of tension in that team. [chuckles heartily]

Interviewer: Oh? What kind of tension?

Ukai Keishin: … All kinds. Evidently.

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Nineteen Years Ago

Sexual Tension, n. The feeling of attraction or desire between two people that remains unspoken or unconsummated. It creates an exciting and intense atmosphere characterized by a “magnetic pull” or a “spark,” often expressed through actions like prolonged eye contact, flirting, and casual physical touch.

‘We do not have that!’ Atsumu yelled at Osamu once he’d closed his Google search after his brother had wrongfully proclaimed, ‘You guys don’t actually hate each other. You just have sexual tension.’ 

Well, that was a little over a month ago. 

Now, one fight, one broken phone screen, and one questionable celebrity sex tape later, Ukai, with all the patience of a saint afflicted with tired-of-everyone’s-bullshit disease, clicks his tongue and says;

“Atsumu, Kiyoomi, out. You aren’t joining our practice until you two settle your differences maturely and get rid of… whatever fucking tension there is between you two. Now, go.” 

Lame, Osamu mouths. Atsumu flips him the bird from behind his back. 

Atsumu gives Kiyoomi a look that says ‘this is all your fault,’ which he returns with a glare that says ‘you started it, you son of a bitch.’ But they say nothing as they bow and walk out the practice room door with their heads hung low. 

Atsumu feels defeated that even the dance teacher seems to think they have sexual tension. (Osamu’s Voice Of Reason In His Subconscious: “That is definitely absolutely not what he meant by that but okay, Tsumu.”) 

They walk into the smaller practice room right across the hall and Kiyoomi slams the door shut to send a message. The message being ‘Now, look what you’ve done.’ 

This time, Atsumu doesn’t rise to the bait because everyone else is still in that practice room, dancing, learning, and getting a better rep with Ukai than the sorry one they currently have. And if he wants to sell out Tokyo Dome instead of getting kicked out at the last minute for lack of team spirit, he’s going to have to swallow his pride.

“Let’s practice the damn move.” He says, “Travel further out after you sing your part.”

“No, you need to stand more to the left.” Kiyoomi argues back, except it’s weak and lacks the bite from earlier because as it turns out, even they can be tired of their own bullshit. 

“Travel further.”

“Move to the fucking left.”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Atsumu plays the song on his phone and they stubbornly glare at each other through the mirrors, marking the dance moves as they wait for the pre-chorus to come. Once it does and they move to the formation ingrained in their muscles from the sheer amount of practice they’ve had, Kiyoomi wordlessly travels further out and Atsumu stands slightly to the left. It works out.

They pause. 

Kiyoomi purses his lips and says, “Asshole. See how easy that was?”

Atsumu wonders if Sakusa Kiyoomi understands how lucky he is that he’s too desperate to debut to allow himself to go to jail for aggravated assault. 

“I’m too tired to fight you right now, so shut up.” He says with a tone of finality, spontaneously dropping to the floor and lying down, stretching his limbs out with a groan. 

Kiyoomi walks up to him until the tips of his shoes are nearly pressed against the crown of his head as he looks down at him. It’s… certainly an angle. “We fixed it. Let’s go back.”

He closes his eyes. “Yeah, in ten minutes.” 

“What?”

“C’mon, Omi-Omi. I’m waving the white flag. Let’s enjoy ten minutes of silence before we have to go back and get yelled at in a room that smells like shoes and boy sweat.” 

Kiyoomi makes a face at that but says nothing else. After pretending to think about it, he sighs and settles down next to Atsumu like it’s a chore, leaning back and stretching his legs out. 

He’s obviously glad to relax and Atsumu smirks privately, closing his eyes. “Hey, Omi.”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“What? Omi? What’s wrong with Omi?”

“It’s not my name.”

“Then, call me Atsumu.” He retorts, “You think I like it when you call me Miya? It makes me feel like you’re talking to my fuckin’ dad.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then, Omi-Omi it is.”

He sighs. “You exhaust me.”

Atsumu hums contentedly. “Good. I would never want to make you feel any way else.”

“Miya.”

“What?”

“So, you know how you act like you’re better than everyone else all the time?”

“As one does when they’re better than everyone else.”

“Alright, concerning, but that’s not the point.” Kiyoomi continues, “Why the hell do you act that way with me more than you do with everyone else?”

Atsumu opens his eyes and looks up. Their gazes meet and they find that neither of them can look away. For some reason, it feels as if it’s the first time they’d ever properly met anyone’s eyes before. 

He swallows. “I dunno, Omi-kun. I guess there’s just somethin’ special about ya that pisses me off in a way that nobody else can.”

He snorts. “Let me guess. Is it because of who my father is?”

Atsumu finally turns away. “You say that like that’s the only reason you piss people off when there are many, many other great reasons.”

“It’s the biggest one.” Kiyoomi points out, “Why? Are you gonna tell me that I’m wrong?"

“As much as I enjoy doing that, no.”

He purses his lips like he’s genuinely upset about something. Atsumu has made him annoyed pretty often, angry sometimes, but never upset. 

Kiyoomi licks his lips as if considering his next words, then says, “It didn’t help me, you know.”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?”

“My dad being a retired celebrity. It didn’t help me for shit. If anything, it made things harder. He was known for being an addict, an asshole, a drunk, and a deadbeat. And he was exactly that. No company wanting to make the perfect, squeaky clean idol group would want to take a kid whose reputation was already tainted before he could even step onto a stage. Everyone looks at me and thinks I’m gonna turn into him eventually.” Kiyoomi says, eyes trained on the walls, his gaze tense, “If my dad were of any use, I would’ve joined a better company. Not one where ten trainees have to share a single bedroom and the practice room’s AC never fucking works.”

Atsumu feels a pit in his stomach that feels an awful lot like guilt. “I see how that would be really shitty for you.”

“Oh, you see, do you?”

“That was me tryin’ to apologize for being a judgmental asshole.”

“Do it better, then.”

“I’m sorry for being a judgmental asshole.”

Atsumu thinks he hears him chuckle. “See how easy that was?”

“Say that to me again and I’m gonna get up and hit you, Omi-kun. I mean it.”

Kiyoomi laughs again, louder this time. It sounds fond. Atsumu hates that he didn’t open his eyes right then. He would’ve wanted to see him smile. 

He exhales heavily as he falls onto his back right next to Atsumu and stares up at the ceiling. “Sure, Miya. Whatever you say.”

“Mmm.”

For a little while, they enjoy the first real moment of peace they’ve ever shared together.

“Hey.” Kiyoomi says, breaking the silence.

“What now?”

“What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“You parents. What do they do?” He asks, “And why are you here when you probably could’ve gotten in somewhere better?”

“My mom works in a high school cafeteria and my dad was a taxi driver until he got sued by a passenger for being drunk on the job.” Atsumu says simply, “So… they’re definitely not as bad as yours, but you should know that you’re not all that special. In this industry, you’re lucky if you have parents who aren’t complete fuckin’ whackjobs.” 

Kiyoomi sits with that for a second, then he nods. “Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right.”

Atsumu bites back a grin. “I never thought I’d ever hear that come out of your mouth. Did it hurt ya a little bit to say it?” 

“Shut the fuck up. We’re having a moment and you’re ruining it.”

“Oh, right, and I joined Black Jackals ‘cause I had a crush on Tobio from the age of twelve to thirteen. I knew he was here, so…”

Kiyoomi clears his throat and schools his face, in an attempt to present an expression that hopefully doesn’t make him look like Miya Atsumu just came out to him and he’s spiraling about it. 

“Kageyama? Really? You know he has this weird thing going on with one of the girl trainees, though, right?” He asks, in what he hopes sounds like a casual tone. 

Atsumu waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, my pre-teen gay awakening is straight and everything. Tale as old as time, true as it can be. I’m over it, though. It stopped being about that, like, three weeks into training.”

“And Osamu? Did you just drag him with you?”

“I fuckin’ resent that you think I would drag him anywhere. He clings to me, actually. Like a parasite.” 

He shakes his head at that. “I feel bad for him sometimes. Truly.”

“Hey! It’s true!”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Omi-Omi.”

“What?”

“... This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” Atsumu asks, turning to look at the boy lying beside him. “Us not bein’ at each other’s throats for once.”

They don’t know when they’d moved so close to each other but their shoulders are touching, their bare skin only separated by a couple layers of sweaty shirt sleeves. For a split second, Atsumu finds himself wishing they could get rid of the shirts but catches himself before it could become a fully formed thought. Because that would be dangerous. 

Kiyoomi’s intense gaze is hard to read when he whispers, “Yeah. It’s nice.”

“Hey, Omi.” Atsumu breathes out.

His eyes lower, moving to look at Atsumu’s lips before going back to meet his eyes as he asks, “What?”

“I think Ukai-sensei would be proud of us right now. Y’know, that we’re… finally doin’ something about our tension.” He says, putting his hands up to express quotation marks with his fingers. 

“Our tension, huh? What exactly are we supposed to be doing about that, whatever that means?” Kiyoomi chuckles… and there it is. His smile. 

And Atsumu understands, suddenly, what everyone sees in him. 

How do you look at a boy with a smile as beautiful as that and not believe that he was born to be worshipped? 

The only way that Atsumu can describe what happens next is that, for a moment, just a really short moment, he loses control of himself. But that moment lasts long enough to make him lean into him, close his eyes, and press a chaste kiss to Sakusa Kiyoomi’s very-not-ready lips. 

He only realizes what he’s done and the gravity of it once he pulls away and is met with the other’s wide eyes. 

Then, he thinks, what the fuck did I just do?

Kiyoomi looks like he wants to say something, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but doesn’t seem to know what there is to say.

So, Atsumu decides to beat him to the chase and the first words out of his pathetic mouth is a robotic, “Hahaha. Wow, Omi. I haven’t kissed anyone like that since… pre-school.” 

At this, Kiyoomi finally gets a hold of his wits long enough to say the words, “Atsumu, what the fuck?”

And it’s probably not the time to think this but Atsumu’s mind goes, ‘Oh. He finally called me by my name.’ Which is then immediately followed by, ‘But at what cost, you fucking idiot?’ 

Suffice to say, they did not make it back to practice that night. Atsumu had to lock himself in the bathroom to slap himself in the face for a little while and Kiyoomi had to go out and take a very long walk by the river. 

As people do when the world as they know it, shatters. 

*

Atsumu’s alone in their dorm when he hears someone singing opera outside the door (Is that Phantom of the Opera?), presumably Bokuto. Their doorbell, which they mostly just used to wordlessly tell each other that they’re home, broke a couple weeks ago and Hinata decided that singing was the best thing to do to replace it. 

(Suna had asked, “Why don’t we just… knock?” And  to that, Osamu had squeezed his shoulder, shook his head and said, “Don’t go ruining a good thing.”)

He gets off the couch to meet his six members by the door, one of those said members being the one he accidentally kissed an hour ago, and who now refuses to look him in the eye. 

“Welcome back, losers. You guys fuckin’ stink.” 

They push past him with tired, half hearted greetings one by one, heading for the single bedroom they all share. 

“Tsum-Tsum, where the hell were you?” Bokuto asks in a light scolding tone, “Were you feeling sick too?”

Atsumu chances a glimpse at Kiyoomi who is still pointedly looking away, then says, “Nah, I just… needed some air. Sorry, Bokkun. I’ll apologize to Ukai-sensei tomorrow.”

Osamu gives him a questioning look like he doesn’t believe him because of course, he doesn’t. Atsumu shakes his head in a way that his brother knows means that he’ll tell him later, away from everyone else. 

Hinata steps out of his shoes and fills the room with the scent of his post-training feet. Everyone groans in unison, a daily occurrence that unfortunately never gets any easier to deal with. 

“I’m sorry, okay! I can’t help it, I’ve tried everything!”

“Well, have you tried turning them on and off?” Kageyama asks through his pinched nose. 

“Wait, who the fuck left their laundry on my bed? I’m gonna skin you alive.” Kiyoomi says, crankily tossing a shirt to the floor. 

“Woops! Sorry– oh, yay, I was looking for this this morning!” Bokuto exclaims. 

“I’m starving.” Osamu groans, massaging his temples. “I want rice. Meat. Seasoning. Can someone buy me an onigiri or somethin’?”

“We can’t. We’re on a diet now, remember? Washijo-san’s gonna burst a goddamn blood vessel the next time we get weighed.” Suna scoffs, “You know, he told me last time that I should consider getting a nose job? A nose job. Are you kidding me? I thought the whole point of me being here was so I could show off my face. Now, they’re asking me to change the face they fucking wanted me for.” 

“Don’t listen to him.” Atsumu says, crawling like a gremlin into his bunk, burying his face into the pillow, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. It’s probably all the Valium fucking with his brain.” 

“Dude.” 

“What? It’s true and everyone knows it.” 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Bokuto says, clapping his hands once to shut them all up, which he does when he means business. “Everyone take a shower and get ready for bed. We have an early day tomorrow as you all know because– Rock-paper-scissors, shoot!”

Atsumu doesn’t join them on account of having already showered before any of them arrived, but he laughs along at the sound of victory cries mixing with the sound of anguished yells. 

The age old question goes… Can a single bathroom and a game of rock-paper-scissors make teenage boys weep? The answer is yes, if there are seven guys, one shower, and only four hours worth of sleep to look forward to. 

That night, Hinata wins. All things considered, everyone’s just grateful they don’t have to smell his feet anymore. And Atsumu’s just grateful that for a little while, he can pretend he isn’t thinking of anything else. 

He chances a glimpse at Kiyoomi. Their eyes meet for a split second before he immediately turns away, pretending to fluff out his pillow. 

Atsumu stares at the back of his head and watches as the tips of his ears turn pink. 

*

All the lights are off and the night is pitch black as Bokuto snores into the darkness, the seven of them comfortable in their bunk beds, when Atsumu wakes up to someone kneeling on the edge of his bed while shaking his knee, like it’s the beginning of a horror movie. 

He jerks awake and immediately feels a hand cover his mouth. He looks up in absolute terror.

He sees the shadow of Sakusa Kiyoomi pressing a finger to his lips, begging him to keep quiet. 

Atsumu mouths, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

He simply pulls him out of bed as an answer and ignores Atsumu’s frantic whispers of protest as he drags him out of the bedroom and into the soft light of their living room slash dining area. 

Once he’s very gently and quietly closed the door behind them, he turns to look at Atsumu like he’s just finished making a very important decision.

“Omi-kun… can you tell me what it is you need to say that couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” Atsumu whisper-yells, both annoyed at being woken up at fuck o’ clock and terrified of whatever is about to happen next. “What could possibly be this important?” 

“Atsumu.”

Fuck. “What?”

“Push me away if you don’t like this.”

“Huh?”

He abruptly finds himself being pushed against the wall, a shaky hand wrapped tightly around his bicep, with a pair of chapped lips being pressed against his own. 

All the alarms in Atsumu’s brain start screaming at him that this shouldn’t be happening and he needs to put an end to it immediately… but his body is very, very happy about it.

Well. Atsumu never was one to rely on his brain too much.

He finally manages to release the breath he’d been holding in and he reaches up to rest his hand on the nape of Kiyoomi’s neck, dragging him in closer. He opens his mouth just a little, to test the waters, to see how far he’s willing to go, and the other boy presses closer and licks into his mouth. They both moan softly. 

And Atsumu doesn’t have time to think about the fact that Sakusa Kiyoomi is gay and currently making out with him. Actually, he doesn’t have time to think about anything at all. He just throws both his arms around him, pulling him in, curling his fingers into his hair, as the taste of mint toothpaste in his mouth makes him harden in his boxers. 

“Omi,” He breathes against his lips, “Why are you doing this?”

Kiyoomi closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together and the beat of silence he takes to think about it tells Atsumu that he probably doesn’t know either, until he opens his mouth and says, “Because we aren’t in pre-school anymore.” 

In Miya Atsumu’s sixteen year old lovesick brain, that was a good enough reason for them to keep doing it. 

__

Interviewer: Idols always talk about the harshness of trainee life and struggling to find things and people to help them cope. Was it the same for you?

Miya Atsumu: Yes and no. It was hard. Both physically and mentally. I knew it was going to be hard coming in but… it was harder than I think I could’ve imagined. That soul crushing desperation, the weight of the pressure, the uncertainty of it all. But it was also… some of the best years of my life. [smiles] All the shit Samu and I used to get up to, all the secret adventures with the guys, everythin’ I did with Omi, all the dumb inside jokes that could only be born out of  a bunch of teenagers sharin’ a shitty dorm for a couple years, y’know? It was my youth. But… [drifts off]

Interviewer: But…?

Miya Atsumu: Even that early on, there was a lot of really… rotten things going on behind the scenes, y’know? That’s just what this industry is like. How it operates. We were kids but we were aware of it from the very beginning and somehow, we just knew that there were certain things that weren’t supposed to be said out loud or talked about. Like how some people were just casually drug addicts or how we pretended it was normal to ask little kids to starve themselves and get plastic surgery. 

Suna Rintarou: Everyone was just so fucking desperate. We wanted the chance to prove ourselves so badly, we’d worked so hard for it, and for some of us it was our only chance. We wanted it so badly that we were willing to look the other way and… I dunno, just, break ourselves down and lose pieces of ourselves as long as it meant that we could debut. We didn’t care about the price we had to pay for success. We were willing to pay with anything… as if we had anything to pay with, in the first place. We were broke as all hell, at first. [laughs]

Kageyama Tobio: I’m someone who has a hard time admitting when I make mistakes but that was a mistake. The fact that we spent so many years letting people step on us and put some stupid price tag on our self-worth while we just lay there and took it. Because we thought that’s what we had to do. But it’s hard to blame us. I mean, Hinata and I… we debuted when we were sixteen. We were so young when we started training that the members were at our middle school graduations. To us, this life was all we knew. Is there anyone out there who can say they knew exactly what to do without having to be told at sixteen? Is there anyone who can say they weren’t scared to death of messing everything up?

Bokuto Koutarou: There’s not a lot that I regret when it comes to Dusk. I… [pause] I love my team and I feel so lucky to have been the one to lead them. I gave my all to Dusk, you know? Like I do with everything! As an artist, as a leader, and also as their friend, I gave my all. But… I do regret that I kind of allowed us to be groomed and trained into submission. I don’t think I was smart enough or strong enough. I really regret that I couldn’t save everyone, in the end. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi: I wasn’t prepared, really. I thought I was but I wasn’t. I didn’t know how hard it was going to be. That was true of being a trainee and even truer of being an idol. Nobody really warned me how much of yourself you lose to this job. How much of your life it takes up. And I think… to me, Atsumu was like my light. At the time, what we shared felt like the one thing that I chose for myself, this private thing that I could keep sacred, the one selfish act that I allowed myself to have, the one part of me that was all mine. Something that wasn’t for the sake of the team, or the fans, or my career… It was just for me. He made me happy and it was as simple as that.

Miya Atsumu: Omi was… he was like my lifeline during my trainee years and the early days of our debut. There were many, many, many times that it truly felt like the only two things that kept me breathing back then were him and Samu. Man, our debut year… [shakes head] That was fuckin’ rough. I didn’t think it was possible for a body to be that sore. [laughs]

Hinata Shoyo: When I was a trainee, my only goal was to debut. See, my family didn’t have a lot of money back then and my parents really took a risk, letting me go down this path. I’m the oldest son too, so I was the family’s only hope at the time. [chuckles] I had to debut.  I thought once I managed that, everything would come easy. I thought that once we managed that, everything else would just… follow. But, man! I didn’t think it was possible for a guy to be so wrong about something! [laughs] I mean, we did well enough but we realized that we were in over our heads. We didn’t immediately top the charts and… well, little me was really shocked about it. [laughs] Because I thought we were all so good, you know? And we’d been working so hard for so long! But that’s just not how these things work. There was just so much to learn, so much we didn’t know, so much we had to get used to all of a sudden. It was really hard for everyone.

Interviewer: At the time that all this chaos was happening… Did you know that as early as your trainee years, there was already something brewing between Atsumu-kun and Sakusa-kun?

Suna Rintarou: Yeah. Osamu and I knew pretty much immediately. 

Bokuto Koutarou: Kind of… but [scratches head] honestly, I was too scared to ask them about it. Omi-kun scared me a little back then. [laughs]

Kageyama Tobio: No. I wasn’t even very sure of either of their sexualities. I only found out later on that most of the members knew. Apparently, it was obvious. But I didn’t know. It’s not really something we talked about out loud, in the beginning. 

Hinata Shoyo: No! Man… they were really good at hiding. 

Interviewer: If you could go back in time right now, what do you think you’d do? What do you think you’d say to them? Knowing everything that happens next, would you stop them?

Suna Rintarou: [laughs] Those two? You couldn’t have told those assholes to do anything back in those days.  They would’ve bitten my head off. 

Bokuto Koutarou: I would never. Of course, I wouldn’t, of all people. [laughs]  You know, I think I’d just tell them to have fun. To enjoy being young! Because we were so young, weren’t we? We were… too young, now that I really think about it. [laughs] I mean, you’d think it would be a dumb move to trust an eighteen year old kid to lead an idol group to super stardom but… [shrugs] It is what it is! [cackles]

__

Eighteen Years Ago

They’ve named it the Sushi Conveyor Belt Maneuver (coined SCBM by Suna Rintarou). The SCBM was invented because Black Jackals Entertainment, dangerously toeing the line of bankruptcy, decided that the genius move they were going to make to save their company from downfall was to debut a seven member male idol group named Dusk. Fandom name? Dawn. Of course. Groundbreaking stuff. (“The seven of you are going to show the entire country what you’re made of. Work hard, believe in yourself, help us save this company, and make all these years of blood, sweat and tears worth it.” is what they said. “No pressure, though.”)

But again, no one had any fucking money. They’d forgotten what Japanese currency looked like. They were getting nightmares of the sound of cash registers. So, they all had to buy their mics and in-ears out of their own pockets, they ate the same cheap food everyday, their outfits tore if they bent or twisted the wrong way, and they could only afford one makeup artist for everyone. The makeup artist being Shimizu Kiyoko, with a face that belonged on billboards, a beauty mark right below her bottom lip, and makeup skills and handspeed that made up for the fact that there was only one of her and seven of them. 

Getting ready for performances was like a sport. In some ways, it felt like more of a sport than the actual act of performing. So, they named it the Sushi Conveyor Belt Maneuver. She sat in the middle while the rest of them moved in a circle around her, spinning around as she applied their foundation, concealer, blush, did their eyes and lips in turn, as if they were planets revolving around their sun. 

“Kiyoko-san,” Atsumu says as she starts on his lipgloss, “I have an important question to ask you.”

“Oh no.”

“Who do you think is the better looking twin today?”

She sighs. “Whichever twin isn’t asking me that question on the day.” 

“Kiyoko-san, I am trying to flirt with you right now and you are making it very hard to do it successfully.”

Suna rolls his eyes from next to him and Osamu snorts and goes “HA!” from his other side. 

“Don’t take it personally, Kiyoko-san,” His brother says, “He flirts with you to distract himself from the fact that he can’t do it with the one he really wants–”

“Continue that sentence if you want us to end up on the morning news.” 

“Or a true crime podcast.” Kiyoomi adds sleepily from across them.

“ROOKIE IDOL TWINS GIVE US A DIFFERENT KIND OF SHOW?! (THE DARK SIDE OF FAME) ASMR.” Bokuto exclaims in his stupidly impressive broadcaster voice.

This makes everyone in the waiting room burst out laughing. 

“Fuck, and I just know it’ll be some stupid ramen mukbang or something.” Suna says hysterically, wiping stray tears from his eyes, “Atsumu, people are gonna hear about the story of your death through some Youtuber’s noodle-filled mouth.” 

“Hey! Why the fuck would you assume that I’m the one who’ll get taken out?” 

“Well, you’ve never won a wrestling match against him.” Kageyama shrugs and Atsumu remembers why exactly he doesn’t like him anymore.

“You don’t know that for sure.” He argues.

“I think you need to learn how to swallow your pride sometimes, Atsumu-san.” Hinata says with all the sincerity in the world, which just pisses him off even more.

“I can swallow my fuckin’ pride. Fuck you. I can swallow anything.” Atsumu blinks, thinks about that statement, then puts his hand up. “Pause.”

“That’s what she said.” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Kiyoomi raise an eyebrow and cock his head at him suggestively. He pointedly ignores that look, for the sake of his penis staying soft. 

Osamu doesn’t even have to say anything. He sits back with his arms crossed, smirking and shrugging at Atsumu like the smuggest piece of shit in the world. And Atsumu knows he’s silently saying, ‘What can I say? Everyone just thinks I’m so much better than you because you’re just that much dumber.’ He just fucking knows it. 

“Oh, fuck you.” He rolls his eyes.

Osamu grins, thoroughly entertained. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“You know what, you fuckass reboot version of me–”

It’s a tragedy, really. The fact that Dusk debuted with moderate success even with a title track and an album that was honestly mediocre at best. (None of them had really liked it, but it was at least significantly better than the other options they were given.) 

Putting aside the fact that they’re pretty, good performers, and (apparently) funny, the main marketing strategy The Sloppy BJ had come up with to promote them was to use The Miya Twins. 

Dusk became known for either being That Group With Sakusa Kentaro The Drug Addict’s Son or being That Group With Those Cute Twins. Apparently, they get a lot of traction on Twitter because people on the internet talk a lot about whether or not Kiyoomi’s gonna end up being an asshole like his father or whether the blonde twin or the silver-haired twin is ‘hotter’, which is concerning for a myriad of reasons, one of those reasons being that they’re all only seventeen. 

But hey, if it works, it works. After all, all publicity is good publicity, they’ve learned. 

Atsumu and Osamu were used to being treated like a set instead of individual people, but something about being treated that way by an entertainment company and also the entire internet… Well, they both had something to say about that. 

“Stop fighting, you two.” Kiyoko jokes, “How can the team possibly top the charts without your highly marketable brotherly bond?”

“Maybe if they’d used the fact that we can write our own goddamn songs instead of using our bloodline, we wouldn’t have to worry about it at all.” Osamu points out. And Atsumu hates having to agree with Osamu even more than he hates having to agree with Kiyoomi… but he does agree. 

Suna is probably (most definitely) the best musician any of them had ever met, Atsumu and Kageyama have been writing songs since they were in elementary school and hell, Bokuto can create any type of choreography for any type of song like it’s nobody’s goddamn business. But somehow, having two guys who look identical and the fact that they’re a bunch of pretty boys who like to hug and touch each other sometimes is what makes them so special. 

The internet calls it Government Ships. Well, actually some of them call it Queerbaiting. Black Jackals calls it Marketing. The Dusk members call it A Polygamous Work Marriage.  

Kageyama and Hinata otherwise known as KageHina are a pretty big one, known for their love-hate relationship. Atsumu can’t fully blame the people for that one because he’s made a hobby out of watching them fight the way he would with a reality TV show. His brother and Suna aka OsaSuna are constantly being called an old married couple which Atsumu dislikes but can’t exactly disagree with. Of course, worst of all and biggest of all, there’s SakuAtsu. Atsumu doesn’t particularly feel like thinking about everything that entails. 

And he’s not even going to get into the twincest. For a good minute, he seriously considered bleaching his fucking eyes. 

Meanwhile, Bokuto managed to get out of it all mostly unscathed in exchange for being seen as their ‘lame dad.’ Which is gross but honestly? Understandable. 

Atsumu isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry about the fact that their relationships are being treated like a product to be sold to the people. It’s like the very real bond and trust they’d worked to build together over the years have been minimized to being nothing but a ploy to get their audience to make video edits and write fanfiction about them.  

All the while, knowing that if the fans found out what exactly him and Sakusa Kiyoomi were currently doing in the waiting room bathroom, their careers would come crashing down before they could even actually get one. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu whimpers, rubbing his dick against Kiyoomi’s thigh, tilting his head back as the boy presses open mouthed kisses to his neck, “No marks, Omi, or else Kiyoko-san is gonna ask questions that we can’t fuckin’ answer when she has to lather my fuckin’ neck with concealer later.”

Kiyoomi scoffs against his skin, “You’re worried about marks? Worry about not coming in your skinny jeans.”

Atsumu doesn’t say anything to that because it’s really bold of him to assume that he isn’t worried about that.

They’ve been doing this on and off for about a year. And by ‘this,’ he means making out in small, enclosed spaces that is sometimes accompanied with dry humping and heavy petting. So far, though, they’ve done nothing more than that. 

Atsumu isn’t sure if it’s because they’re too scared to do anything more in fear of having to talk about it or if they’re just too nervous to face all the mechanics of two guys getting it on. Or maybe it’s because they’re constantly terrified of getting caught and accidentally tossing their entire team’s reputation out for the wolves to eat. 

All those things, probably. 

In the middle of their particularly intense game of tonsil tennis, they hear the door to the men’s bathroom burst open, excited chattering echoing outside the stall they’re in. They abruptly pause in their ministrations, Atsumu immediately crouching on top of the toilet seat to hide his existence from view while Kiyoomi arranges his position to make his feet look like he’s sitting on the toilet taking a dump, just in case someone’s snoopy enough to check. (They call this one Formation B. It’s for public bathrooms.)

They stay like that, so tense that they’re barely even breathing, for a painful amount of time. 

Once it’s finally quiet again and the bathroom is blissfully empty, they look at each other and let out a sigh of relief as Atsumu hops off the toilet and Kiyoomi leans against the wall.

“Shit.” Kiyoomi exhales.

Atsumu wipes the sweat off his brow. “God, what the hell are we even doin’, Omi? We’re like a horny couple in their honeymoon phase–” 

“Don’t even start with that.”

“Start with what?”

“You know what.” Kiyoomi says, shaking his head.

“Jesus, man, it was just an expression. I didn’t realize that even an implied ‘What are we?’ would get you sweatin’ like–”

“Stop.”

“Psh. Does the thought of you likin’ me so much scare you, Omi? Am I so intimidating that–”

“Stop. We’re not having this conversation here.” Kiyoomi hisses, cutting him off, “You know we can’t be more than this, so don’t even joke about it. We can’t do feelings right now, Atsumu. And if it’s between the two of us, we can’t do it ever.” 

Atsumu feels a sudden deep ache in his chest at those words. It’s the same one that he’s been feeling for a while now, the same one that he thinks he’s felt all his life. An ache that comes from knowing that no matter how hard he tries or how desperate he is, he’ll never be able to have everything he wants. 

An ache that comes from looking at the boy who knows how many shots of espresso he needs in his coffee, who knows that he can eat mild spice but anything more gives him a tummy ache, who knows what kind of embarrassing sounds he makes when he feels good and exactly what to do to get him to make them. 

An ache that comes from knowing that it all means absolutely fucking nothing, in the end. 

So, he ignores the ache. He’s good at doing that. 

“We’re just havin’ some fun, Omi-Omi.” He says, pulling the boy closer by his collar, “We can do fun, right? We’re allowed that.”

And even as Kiyoomi turns putty in his hands and melts at the feel of his tongue in his mouth, his eyes are filled with doubt. Atsumu gets it. 

They both know that it’s only fun until it isn’t. Then, it just becomes two starving guys who are desperate enough to get on their hands and knees to lick crumbs off the floor. 

__

Bokuto Koutarou: I remember when we first debuted, the fans had coined me as the… what was that again… the token straight of Dusk! [laughs hysterically] Little did they know, I was the only guy at the time who was in a committed relationship with another guy. As everyone knows by now, people eventually found out. But back then, not even the members knew. Keiji and I had been dating for about two years, at that point. [smiles] It was our own little secret.

Kageyama Tobio: People often asked me if the shipping culture bothered me but I honestly couldn’t have cared less as long as it meant I could keep performing. It’s not like Hinata and I were doing anything we didn’t want to be doing together. The fans enjoyed our real dynamic so we were lucky. We didn’t have to try. They liked seeing us fight and we were always fighting. So… win-win. 

Interviewer: Did you date a lot during your time in Dusk?

Kageyama Tobio: Once in a while, but it was rare. I think my single-mindedness when it comes to music and what I do sort of… scares a lot of women off. [chuckles] It happens. The older guys did a lot more of that than I did. They were pretty good at keeping their escapades on the down low. 

Interviewer: The guys often joke that you and Hinata-kun are “perpetually single.”

Kageyama Tobio: It’s just not a priority for me and never has been.

Hinata Shoyo: [laughs awkwardly] Not for a lack of trying! I’m just really bad at relationships. I always get in trouble for putting my career first but I just don’t know how to be any way else. And I don’t want to be, at least not yet!

Interviewer: I’m assuming the busy schedules and the lack of privacy also stood in the way?

Bokuto Koutarou: Well, yeah, of course that was a part of it! But, you know… there were many other things. Especially for the twins and Sunarin and Omi-kun. There was a lot going on at the time with… Well. [chuckles]

Hinata Shoyo: Are we also gonna talk about Rin-san and Osamu-san…?

Kageyama Tobio: [looks behind the camera] How far are we going with this? Is it gonna be okay?

Suna Rintarou: I guess we can’t do this without talking about the twins, Omi-kun, and their complicated, born-to-be-in-showbiz lives. [laughs] The fame and the industry fucked us all up in many, many ways but I think those three had a lot going on even outside of all that noise. Their childhoods, the relationship they had with their parents, and the fact that they knew that this was what they wanted to do from such an early age kind of bled into the way they saw their other relationships, whether it be romantic, platonic, or professional. It bled into the way they saw their lives, the way they saw their career, the way they treated Dusk, the way Atsumu and Omi-kun treated their relationship… and the way Osamu treated me. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi: I don’t think I need to go into detail, right? Everyone knows that I’m Sakusa Kentaro’s son. I mean, I think that was my identifier for everyone in the world except me, because he was just… not around to be a dad at all. He just wasn’t there for me or my mom, ever. And it made her feel distant and made me feel resentful for a lot of my life. It was a lot worse when I was younger, though, and I think as I grew up and experienced what it’s actually like to be in this industry, I grew to understand that he had his reasons for being an absent father. I understand now that there was a reason but it still isn’t an excuse. I wish I had more to say about it but… I really don’t. I guess I’m grateful he lent his sperm so mom could birth me and that he indirectly introduced me to music by being in the business. I’m grateful he showed me what not to do in life. But that’s about it. [shrugs]

Interviewer: Did having him as a father not… put you off joining show business?

Sakusa Kiyoomi: [chuckles] You’d think so, right? But nah. The opposite, actually. I wanted to show everyone that I could do it better. [smirks]

Miya Atsumu: I mean, shit, I think anyone who knows anything about Dusk or me or Samu, pretty much knows the gist of our family life, right? Our dad was a taxi driver, a struggling alcoholic, a guy who spent a lot of his life bein’ miserable ‘cause he couldn’t pursue his dream of becoming a singer. And our mom was this hardass high school cafeteria chef. [chuckles] She didn’t want to be one, though. Her dream was to either be a talent scout or to be the talent who was bein’ scouted. So, you can imagine, right? They had a weird relationship because of it. There was a strange power dynamic too, what, with my mom bein’ a grumpy alpha woman and my dad bein’ a sad drunk, and there was this cloud of lingering resentment between them for as long as I can remember. The only thing that always made them happy and what really brought them together was their love for music and showbiz… and I guess those feelings trickled down to the way they treated their kids. 

Interviewer: And how did they treat you?

Miya Atsumu: [long pause]

Interviewer: It’s okay, take your time.

Miya Atsumu: No, no, it’s really fine. I think it’s just… it’s that they didn’t really see us as their sons back then, I don’t think. That sounds more fucked up than it actually was now that I’m sayin’ that out loud but I think that was the truth of it, at one point. We weren’t their sons. We were just the physical manifestations of everything they wanted for themselves. A physical reminder of the dream life they failed to live. All of their could-have-beens coming alive in the form of twins. And they both loved us and hated us for it. They were so young when they had us too, and I don’t think they knew… what to do with those feelings. They didn’t know how to just be our parents. It’s not like they ever beat us or treated us like shit and it’s not like we don’t have any good memories with them. Hell, the whole reason we fell in love with music was because they loved music so much, y’know? All the music they listened to, we listened to. The songs they danced to, we danced to. We looked up to them, in a way. But… they felt far from being parents. So, Samu and I, when we were growin’ up we always felt like… we had to figure life out on our own. Our manager used to call us parentified children. [laughs] Y’know, maybe that’s why we didn’t mind so much bein’ treated the way we were by the media, the company, and everyone else. We didn’t mind being seen as nothin’ but what we could offer them. We didn’t mind only being worth as much as our talent. We didn’t mind feelin’ like commodities. I mean… that’s how we grew up. 

Interviewer: … Can I ask you something?

Miya Atsumu: Shoot. What else are we here for?

Interviewer: Did you and Osamu-kun feel forced to become celebrities?

Miya Atsumu: No. Not even a little bit. Well, I don’t want to speak for Samu. He’s… [drifts off] Some things were different, maybe, for him. Especially by the end. But I can say for fuckin’ sure that no one forced me. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi: I remember a conversation Atsumu and I had around the time that Dusk started getting really big and we all started freaking out about it. We were kind of in a frenzy back then. Our schedules were so packed that it felt humanly impossible to get through, the invasion of our privacy started, we were getting no sleep, no time to live our own lives, no time to see other friends or family, everyone suddenly had an opinion about us and always had something to say. It felt like being in the eye of a storm. I mean, we wanted to succeed and in the back of our minds, we always knew that that would be the price to pay for it. But it’s one thing to know it and another thing to live it. We were so happy and so excited about everything but it was… overwhelming. It was fucking terrifying. I mean, jesus, it all happened so fast. I went through a rough patch dealing with it while Atsumu just seemed like he was carrying it all with more ease and grace than I was. So, I asked him. “How are you, the most dramatic person I know, not losing your fucking mind?”

Interviewer: What did he say?

Sakusa Kiyoomi: … He said that it’s like a pie chart. An 80/20 pie chart. Basically, he came into this industry for only one reason, which was to make music and perform for his fans. That’s it. And if there was some magical way to be able to do just that and nothing else, he probably would’ve done it. But that’s not how it works. And unfortunately, in the grand scheme of things, becoming an idol is probably only twenty percent making music and performing for your fans and eighty percent doing all the other things you need to do, so that you can keep making music and performing. And there’s a lot of things within that eighty percent that we all kind of hated doing. There’s a lot in that eighty percent that’s all work and no fun. The photoshoots, the interviews, dealing with the media, dealing with public scrutiny, the grueling schedules, the loss of freedom, always being told what you can and can’t do and not being allowed to say no, the constant flying and jetlag, non-stop dieting and exercising, being micromanaged and judged and watched all the time, all the rehearsals and never-ending practices, the meetings, meetings, and more meetings. But he said that… it all comes down to whether or not you see that 80/20  for what it is or if you see it the way he does. 

Interviewer: And how does he see it?

Sakusa Kiyoomi: He said that he doesn’t mind doing that eighty percent a thousand times over, as long as it also means getting to do the twenty percent for the rest of his life. Because the way he sees it, that twenty percent… is worth a hundred. [smiles] Fucking ridiculous, isn’t he? 

Interviewer: I think he’s amazing.

Sakusa Kiyoomi: That’s because he is. 

__

Seventeen Years Ago

They start a fight with their company to be able to make and release their own music. And they come out bloody and victorious. Black Jackals had a lot to say about that until they didn’t, because that very album titled ‘Before’, gives them their first win. 

Suddenly, they’re popping up on the Top 10 of every existing music chart. Suddenly, they’re getting invited to guest on all the most famous talk shows on TV. All of a sudden, Kiyoomi’s doing photoshoots for Chanel and the twins are doing photoshoots to be on the next cover of Vogue. Then, they were off to drive three hours to fuckass nowhere, so Dusk could shoot their first commercial, promoting a new energy drink. The posters get put up everywhere and the jingle goes viral. 

Kiyoko Shimizu, their once lone makeup artist, is now working with an entire staff of makeup artists and stylists who follow them around everywhere, carrying bags of expensive hair products and rolling around racks of branded clothes. They start flying first class just in time for their first Asia Tour. 

They open their first tour, Before Dusk, in Saitama Super Arena, where all of their parents come and the waiting room becomes a mess of excitement, nerves, panicked shouts about not messing up their hair and makeup, last minute reminders about where to stand and when, which lyrics have been changed to what, and the families of seven boys trying to act like they aren’t overwhelmed by getting a taste of what their sons’ lives constantly looks like.

“Koutarou, why have you lost so much weight?” Bokuto’s mom frets, pinching his arms and his stomach, “Have they not been feeding you enough?”

No, they all think to themselves. 

“Naaaah, I’m alright, mom, don’t worry about me. I’m just taking care of my health and my looks more! Your son is a famous idol now, you know?” is what Bokuto says instead, because being their leader has turned him into an expert at not complaining and doing whatever he’s told. 

Kageyama’s parents comment on how tall he’s gotten but how big the bags under his eyes are. He shrugs, looks away and says, “They can cover it up with makeup.” 

As if that’s what they’re worried about. As if that’s all anyone would be worried about. 

Hinata’s mother is teary-eyed, going on and on about how proud she is of him and trying to reach up and stroke his head, but he ducks out of the way with a chuckle, saying, “Thanks, mom, but please don’t touch my hair!”

Suna’s busy telling his parents that yes, he’s eating, yes, he’s been getting enough sleep, yes, they’ve all been doing really well and there’s nothing they need to worry about, and he would absolutely tell them if there was. 

After all, the only thing Suna Rintarou does better than making music is lying.

Kiyoomi’s mother comes too, if only to stiffly and uncomfortably congratulate him. Luckily, he just seems grateful that his dad hadn’t come with her bringing along a bag of all their issues. 

Atsumu and Osamu fucking wished they could say the same.

Patting Atsumu’s shoulders, their mother says, “Make sure you work on your live singing, okay?  You get pitchy when you start getting exhausted. Get that stamina up! And Osamu, for the love of God, learn how to use the face we gave you. Smile! Emote more!”

“A few of my old work friends are here to see you guys too.” Their dad adds from the side, “Kill it out there and don’t embarrass me, boys!” He laughs like it’s a joke but it isn’t, really. 

At the end of the day, neither Atsumu nor Osamu had it in them to really resent their mom and dad for anything. They figured it must be hard trying to be loving parents to two kids who managed to live the life that they couldn’t. It was hard to feel any real anger for two people who, at the heart of it, simply had no choice in life but to settle for crumbs and make the best out of that. 

“Uhm,” Their manager interrupts the moment, the waiting room going quiet at the sound of his voice, “I’m sorry but can I ask all the guests to leave? We only have half an hour left before the concert and the boys need time to warm up and get ready for the show.”

Nobody says it out loud but they all think, ‘Thank fuck.’ 

Once everyone finishes wishing them good luck and are finally out the door, the seven boys are left by themselves. Atsumu doesn’t know when he started feeling more at home being with Dusk than he did with his own parents, but he feels it really strongly in that moment. 

They gather to form a circle, arms wrapped around each other, the top of their heads close together for the last pep talk before their first concert. 

“Is everyone feeling good?” Bokuto asks like he’s talking to everyone, but he’s mostly just looking at the twins and Kiyoomi. 

Atsumu feels Kiyoomi rest a hand on the nape of his neck before squeezing comfortingly, and he notices Suna pat Osamu on the back from the corner of his eye. 

“We’re alright.” Atsumu says, the same time that Osamu nods wordlessly. And in the warmth of their little team circle, they find that they mean it. 

“It’s gonna be okay!” Hinata exclaims cheerfully, “Because in just a few minutes, we’re gonna go out there and do everything we’ve ever wanted to do. We’ll kill them all!”

The heart of this job is getting to hold concerts, their seniors in the industry had always said. That night, that year and that tour, they finally understood what that meant. 

Because even when they’re in the middle of the show, panting and sweating, saying their thank you speeches one by one and Atsumu has to open his mouth and say the words, “Actually, I just want to let you guys know that Samu and I’s parents are in the crowd tonight! So, I want to take the time to thank them for, uh… always being there, for watching us closely as we strived for this career, and for supporting us. You guys are one of the biggest reasons why we’ve worked as hard as we have. Thank you!” Somehow, he doesn’t feel the hollowness in his chest that he’d gotten so used to feeling. 

In its place, he feels the screams of 30,000 people reverberating in his body, the sound of their fans singing along to all the songs that he’d written word for word, the heat of the spotlight on him, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he ran and twirled around the stage, the knowledge that the six boys on this stage, the hundreds of people behind the stage and the thousands out in the crowd, were filled with people who loved him. 

Human beings, when there’s enough of them screaming your name, turn into something else altogether. 

They become a source of power, something to chase after, something to worship, something that lights up and burns like a flame. A flame that would only continue to burn and burn and burn inside him, without ever going out. 

And when Bokuto Koutarou yells for their fans to make some noise, when Kageyama Tobio performs his dance solo better than he ever has, when Hinata Shoyo hits a vocal run that they'd never heard him do so perfectly, when Suna Rintarou absolutely beams in a way they’d never seen before, when Miya Atsumu meets Miya Osamu’s eyes in the middle of a song and they burst out laughing at the knowledge that they’d made it, when the last song ends and Atsumu stands back to back with Sakusa Kiyoomi, feeling each other’s hearts beat out of their bodies through their clothes, he knows that they’re all burning with the same fire, that they’re having the most fun that they’ve ever had in their fucking lives. 

After their final bow and once the platform finishes lowering them down to the bottom of the stage, with the cheers of the crowd still making them shake from deep within their bones, they wordlessly throw themselves into each other’s arms and cry. 

They fucking did it.

Atsumu looks to his right and sees the person who’s always standing on his right, who’s been right next to him for everything and for all of it, and for the first time in his life, he says, “I love you, Samu.”

It’s saying something about how happy they are that Osamu doesn’t make a face or a joke, by the way he does nothing other than smile and say, “I love you too, Tsumu.” 

When Atsumu looks back on this night many years later, a lot of the details will be fuzzy and only the emotions of it will remain. But he will still vividly remember how his brother looked, the big smile on his face, the sweat dripping down his forehead, the warmth of his skin, the sincerity in his voice, and the lump in his throat. 

It’s that moment that he’ll remember as one of the most precious moments of his life. 

*

“Open another bottle, please!” Suna yells, holding up an empty shot glass. Osamu’s leaning against him, face beet red and eyes half closed. The two are obviously responsible for drinking most of the Vodka. 

Atsumu learns that night that one of the most fun things about becoming a celebrity is that as long as you don’t get caught, you can: 1) have as much fun as you want and, 2) you are granted easy access to a lot of very, very fun things. 

That night, they celebrate the success of Day One of their first tour by binge drinking in the hotel suite that Suna won through an intense game of rock-paper-scissors, accompanied by some of their staff, Kiyoko nursing a bottle of beer in the corner of the suite along with her new little makeup artist protege, Yachi Hitoka, who Suna had been eyeing the whole night. 

On the other side of the living room, there’s Hinata and Kageyama munching on gummies that are definitely not normal gummies. They have no memory of who got the gummies and where they got them but they’re all very grateful. 

Bokuto’s passed out on the bathroom floor and every single one of them felt too fucked up to lift him off the ground and carry him to bed, so instead they arranged his body in an artistic manner to make him look like a renaissance sculpture, and then they took pictures. 

Atsumu looks around, telling himself that he’s admiring his surroundings instead of looking for a particular curly head of hair with two moles above his eyebrow, who definitely drank more than he could handle tonight. 

His eyes land on the edge of the bed peaking out from behind the half-opened bedroom door, a socked foot bobbing along to whatever song is blasting from Suna’s party playlist. 

He smiles to himself and stumbles his way towards him, leaning against the doorway to find Sakusa Kiyoomi lying in bed, his hands behind his head, drunkenly singing gibberish. 

The boy opens his eyes and once he sees Atsumu and the state he’s in, he grins dopily up at him. 

Atsumu chuckles, leaning his head against the door frame. “You hate lying in other people’s beds. You must be drunk as fuck, huh?”

“No one’s laid down yet, so it’s fine.” Kiyoomi smirks, “Why? Enjoying the view?”

“Yup.” Atsumu says, launching himself onto the bed and making himself comfortable, pressing his shoulder against the other’s side. “Did you eat the gummies too, Omi-Omi?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what they are, where they came from, and I don’t want to know.”

“It’s just weed. And it came from… I dunno, just one of our staff probably. They wouldn’t do anythin’ to kill us. They said it even helps with pain, like when we need to perform with an injury or a pulled muscle or somethin’.”

Kiyoomi turns and cocks an eyebrow at him. “Did you eat the weed gummies?”

“... No.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t.” Atsumu says defensively, looking up to stare at the bright ceiling, “But I ate the brownies.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He grins. “Well, look at that. You’ve been a bad boy, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

In response to that, he expects a “Shut the fuck up, Atsumu” or a “Was that a sad attempt at seducing me?” or if he’s lucky, maybe he’d just lean over and plant one on him. 

Instead, Kiyoomi gazes at him with all the care and sincerity in the world and asks, “Hey. Are you okay?”

He nearly swallows his own tongue. He hates it when people ask him that. He never knows what to say. Like, what was he supposed to do? Be honest? Who fucking does that? So, he just scoffs. 

“C’mon, Omi-Omi. We just performed a sold out show in Saitama Super Arena. We just kicked off our fuckin’ tour. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know why.” He says, ignoring his attempt at deflection. “You’re always in a… weird mood after you have to spend time with your parents. Both you and Osamu.”

“Damn, Omi. Are we trauma dumping? Is that what we’re doin’ tonight? You should let me know in advance next time. I wasn’t prepared for this. You wanna talk about your daddy issues too? I’m all ears.” 

Kiyoomi groans, rolling his eyes. “Can you not hold a serious conversation for once in your life?”

Atsumu nudges his arm playfully. “Why do you wanna talk about this so badly? Are you that worried about me? I didn’t know you cared about me so much, Omi-ku–”

“Of course, I fucking care about you.” He says, “You know how much I care about you.”

Atsumu didn’t, actually. Not really. But he doesn’t say that out loud because he takes one look at Kiyoomi’s earnest face and he can’t help but believe him. 

The weight of that stare feels like a burden but also makes him feel like the luckiest man in the goddamn world. 

And in that moment, he finds that all he really wants to do to end the night is to spend it somewhere else, away from everyone, alone with him, where Kiyoomi can look at him like that until Atsumu sinks and falls into his gaze. 

“Omi?”

“What?”

“Do you wanna steal a few bottles of beer and move this to my room?”

Kiyoomi’s expression changes, like he knows immediately what Atsumu means by that. “What if Osamu comes in and catches us?”

“He’s half conscious in Sunarin’s arms right now. He’s not going to come in and catch us doin’ anything.” 

He acts like he has to think about it for a little longer. Classic Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu loves him so fucking much. 

Then, he says, “No more drinks, I’ve had enough. Let’s steal some gummies.”

And Atsumu thinks to himself that if only they weren’t two guys in a famous idol group together, he might actually believe they were meant to be. Hah. 

The universe can be funny like that.

*

After stumbling into the hotel room next door unnoticed and taking a few minutes just to drunkenly giggle at each other as they munched on stolen gummy bears, Atsumu turns to Kiyoomi, pushes him onto his back, climbs on top of him and abruptly starts kissing him. 

He figures that he’s never really gotten anything out of life by playing it safe. Everything good and worthwhile he’s had in his life, he got by being brave. Or reckless. They’re pretty much the same thing, in his head. 

He’ll have to be brave and reckless right now to get what he wants from someone like Sakusa Kiyoomi too. 

Kiyoomi makes a surprised noise, fumbling like an idiot for a second before eventually getting into the rhythm of things, wrapping his arms around his frame and licking into his mouth. When Atsumu pulls away to breathe, Kiyoomi pulls him back. His hands move wildly, like he can’t make up his mind about which part of his body he wants to touch most, so he just tries to cover as much of it as possible. 

Things get sloppier from there as they clumsily and urgently grind against each other, humping like animals in heat, drool dripping down Atsumu’s chin. And it’s at this point that he thinks to himself, ‘Maybe we should take our pants off for once?’

“Omi, should we…”

The usually responsible and uptight goody two shoes that Atsumu thought he knew is nowhere to be found as Kiyoomi cups Atsumu’s ass and squeezes, panting, “Yes.”

Atsumu isn’t sure if Kiyoomi even knows what he’s saying yes to. He isn't sure what exactly he’s asking for either. Either way, it becomes very clear to them when Kiyoomi just starts unbuttoning and then unzipping Atsumu’s jeans. 

He pulls them down along with his underwear until they’re just below his knees and then wraps a hand around his cock. Atsumu moans, resting his head on Kiyoomi’s shoulder as the man spreads the precum dripping down Atsumu’s tip, using it as lube. Then, he tightens his fist and starts moving it up and down. 

In a state of bliss, Atsumu finds himself wondering if it would be an exaggeration to say that this was the best day of his eighteen years of existence. 

His first concert, his first edible, and his first handjob all in one night? It could only go downhill from here. 

Not sure what else to do, Atsumu whispers ‘Fuck, Omi’ and goes back to kissing him, all the while eagerly fucking into his hand. 

He whimpers into Kiyoomi’s mouth, until he’s panting, then moaning, and then saying, “Oh god, oh fuck, I’m close, I’m so close, please don’t stop–” 

Then, his body goes taut, burying his face in Kiyoomi’s neck as he finds himself letting out a broken sounding “Omi” when he comes and spills all over his hand and on both their shirts. 

Once Atsumu is essentially reborn and then finds himself again, he’s still breathing like he just finished running a marathon. There’s fluid in the corner of his eyes that could be sweat but could also be tears. Both his body and mind feel sated in a way that they’ve never been before and wow, he feels good. 

Holy shit, that felt really good. He feels light as a goddamn feather. 

“Hey, Omi,” He pants tiredly into his neck as he collapses on top of him, “Are you… Jesus?”

But then, collapsing on top of him means that they can both feel Atsumu’s cum cooling between them in a really gross, sticky way that’s kind of reminiscent of being a mayonnaise sandwich that’s been left in an airconditioned room for a couple hours. It starts to feel highly unsexy and unsanitary. 

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi whispers, “I don’t mean this in the way people might mean after having regretful sex, but get the fuck off me.” 

Oh yeah, he hates germs. Right. Duh. This is ruining the moment. Way to fucking go, Atsumu. 

He immediately rolls off him and lazily pulls his pants back up with a, “Is this you trying to tell me that you don’t regret what just happened?”

Kiyoomi looks pointedly at him and then down at his own very obvious, very big (good lord) bulge still caged in his slacks. “Does it look like I regret what just happened?” 

Atsumu can’t bring himself to look away from it. He unconsciously licks his lips. “Do you want some help with that?”

“Atsumu?”

Is he drooling? He thinks he might be drooling.  “... Huh?” 

“Uh. Would you be interested in sucking my dick?” 

He pauses and bites back a big, stupid smile at that. “God damn it, Omi, only you could make askin’ for a blowjob sound like you’re offerin’ someone life insurance.” 

“Fuck you. I’ve never asked someone for a blowjob before so I wouldn’t fucking know how other people do it, okay?” 

Atsumu can recognize when someone is deflecting to hide the fact that they’re feeling vulnerable. He does that too. If it were any other day or they were in any other situation, he’d probably make fun of the guy a little more. 

Instead, Atsumu just leans over and kisses him softly. He seems to like that a lot.

Knowing that he probably wants to be rid of their cum covered clothes as soon as possible, he stops kissing him just long enough to get Kiyoomi out of his shirt before swiftly shimmying out of his own. 

He’s seen Sakusa Kiyoomi shirtless many, many times throughout the years but he never stops being annoyingly and shockingly beautiful. 

He’s beautiful when he’s tired, sweaty and annoyed from a long practice session. He’s beautiful straight out of the shower. He’s beautiful early in the morning. He’s beautiful in between songs during a costume change, frantic and breathless. He’s beautiful now, more than ever. So, he says it.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He says unconvincingly as his ears turn that pretty shade of pink. Atsumu leans down to bite one of them and Kiyoomi hisses. 

He runs his fingers down Kiyoomi’s torso and that earns him a full-bodied shiver, before he shakily unzips his pants and dips his hand into the waistband and into his briefs. 

Kiyoomi lifts his hips, so that Atsumu can slide them down more easily and Atsumu shifts so that he’s lying on his stomach, nestled between Kiyoomi’s thighs, face to face with the prettiest cock he thinks he’s ever seen in his life. 

He kisses his stomach, the trail of hair under his belly button leading to his crotch, his hipbones, then he turns his attention back to his dick. He didn’t think it was possible for a dick to be so pretty and yet–

“Will you stop staring at it like that?” Kiyoomi pants, his face red with embarrassment but his eyes lidded with desire, “You’re freaking me the fuck out.”

Atsumu is too busy nosing at his pubic hair and appreciating his boner to care about whatever the fuck he’s saying. Blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff. 

He gets to work.

“Oh fuck, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi gasps as he tentatively leans down and sucks the head into his mouth. He always used to wonder what dick would taste like… and as it turns out? It mostly just tastes like skin. A little salty. 

But somehow, because of whose dick it is that he’s tasting, it tastes really fucking good. 

He moans and takes it in deeper, gagging a little when he feels it hit the back of his throat. That makes Kiyoomi tilt his head back, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “God, yes.”

He feels fingers brushing through his hair, curling into the strands and tightening, as Kiyoomi’s other hand busies itself stroking Atsumu’s cheek. It feels so tender that he kind of wants to cry. 

A few tears actually do manage to escape when Kiyoomi whispers, “You’re so fucking pretty.” He wipes them away with his thumb and it makes Atsumu whimper. 

He was probably already painfully on edge after all the drinking, the weed, the making out, the dry humping, plus the handjob and everything, so it doesn’t take long before he grits out, “Shit, I’m coming.”

Kiyoomi’s hands move frantically like he isn’t sure whether he wants Atsumu to go deeper or if he should be polite and get him out of the way before he shoots into his mouth, but Atsumu simply hums and sucks harder, holding on to his hips tightly. 

He cries out with a hand curled in Atsumu’s hair and he feels a thick warm liquid paint his tongue and go down his throat. Atsumu generously lets him ride out his orgasm, giving him gentle kitten licks as he comes down from his high, waiting until Kiyoomi’s weakly pushing him away from overstimulation before he pulls off. 

Kiyoomi’s too busy staring bleary eyed at the ceiling to move, his vision probably still blurry at the edges, so Atsumu pulls his underwear back up for him, patting his softening dick once before crawling back up and nestling into his side. 

He naturally pulls him in and presses a kiss to the top of his head in thanks. 

“Shit.” Kiyoomi exhales.

Atsumu nods in agreement. “Shit.”

“I’m lightheaded. Are you lightheaded?”

“We’re tired, we’re drunk, we’re high, and we just came.” He points out, eyes slowly closing, “It’s a miracle that we’re even conscious right now. I think I’m seeing stars and shadow people in the room.” 

“Atsumu?”

“Omi?”

“... Fuck. What the hell are we doing?”

Atsumu’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest at that question and he opens his eyes to look up at the boy who all of a sudden won’t meet his gaze. 

He takes a deep, calming breath. He forces out a laugh to hide how terrified he is of this conversation. “Whatever happened to we can’t do feelings, Atsumu, we can’t talk about this, we can never do anything more than–”

“But we just did more than…” Kiyoomi drifts off, “We just did more. So, what now?”

“I don’t know, Omi. After doing more, do you want us to be more?” He asks and just as Kiyoomi opens his mouth and prepares to say something else, Atsumu cuts him off with a, “You’re gonna say it doesn’t matter what you want. And just as you say that, you’re gonna realize that it’s true. It doesn’t matter what we want.”

Kiyoomi closes his mouth again, swallowing his words and his feelings. Atsumu’s kind of relieved to see that they’re on the same boat when it comes to doing that. 

Because the fact of the matter is that they can kiss for pleasure but not for love. They can fuck for relief but not for anything else. They can only be together without commitment or promise because they’ve long committed and promised themselves to something else. To a life that can’t involve whatever this is. 

So, they lay there in silence trying to make sense of how much they feel for each other and how much of it they’re allowed, listening to the drunken noises coming from the next room, remembering who exactly they are now, the position that they’re in, and just how hard they’ve worked to get here. 

That night, Bokuto Koutarou falls asleep on the bathroom floor, Hinata Shoyo throws up spectacularly on the expensive carpet and they have to pay for cleaning services the next morning, Kageyama Tobio gets a black eye from hitting himself in the face with a cabinet that they’ll have to cover up with a shit load of concealer for their next show, Suna Rintarou and Miya Osamu fall asleep on the couch with their limbs tangled together and matching erections pressed against each other, and Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi make each other come. There’s also a line of coke on the bathroom counter and nobody says anything about it.

If anyone asked their staff, they’d say they’re just teenagers being teenagers. If anyone asked their families, they’d say they had no idea what the fuck was going on. If anyone asked Dusk, they’d just say they were having fun and that they always worked so goddamn hard, so they deserved to have some fun. 

But eventually, they learn the hard way how things like this tend to go. 

You’re only having fun until you aren’t, it’s only casual until it isn’t, it feels so easy until it’s painful, and you can only ignore it until it catches up to you and taps you on the shoulder before punching you in the fucking face. 

Then, once your vision clears,  all there is to see are a bunch of kids using whatever they can find, in a desperate attempt to feel a semblance of control over their own lives.

__

[Edited clip of Dusk winning Rookie of the Year at the Asian Music Awards] 

“And the Rookie of the Year goes to… absolutely no one is surprised, congratulations, Dusk!”

The seven of them jump out of their seats and into each other’s arms. They excitedly swear at each other, Bokuto reaching out and patting each of them on the head. He mouths the words, ‘I love you guys so much.’

When they get on the stage to accept their trophy, the crowd goes wild. The camera pans to some of their fans holding lightsticks, tears of happiness and pride streaming down their faces. 

“Dawn!” Atsumu yells into the mic, holding up their trophy, “Look at what you guys just gave us!”

The members laugh as the crowd cheers, Osamu shoving his brother lightly as Kiyoomi shakes his head with the fondest smile in the world plastered on his face. 

“Oh my god, this year has been really big for us. So much has happened and we’ve achieved so many things… and it’s all thanks to you guys!” Bokuto points to the crowd, making their fans scream even louder, “I think I always knew that with a team as strong as this, we’d be able to make it big but none of it would’ve been possible without all the people helping us behind the scenes and without all of you guys. So, we’ll make sure to always be a team that you guys can keep being proud of. We won’t let you down! Dusk will last forever! Thank you so much, Dawn! We love you!” 

Interviewer: … You teared up watching that clip, Bokuto-san. [hands him a tissue]

Bokuto Koutarou: [wipes his tears] [chuckles awkwardly] Yeah, oh my god. I’m so sorry, just gimme a second. [sniffs]

Interviewer: So… Kiyoko-san, you worked with Dusk for all of their career and pretty much watched them go through all the stages of it. You saw them rise, reach the top, and then fall. You were there for it all.

Shimizu Kiyoko (40, makeup artist, former makeup artist and stylist of Dusk): Hello, my name is Shimizu Kiyoko and I was twenty-two when I started working with Dusk as their makeup artist. [smiles]  I was really young, just starting out, and working with them was my first, like, big job. And I remember so clearly walking into the room, taking one look at them and thinking, ‘What? These are children. These are literal babies fresh out of the womb. What are they doing being employed?!’ [laughs] But they were always so talented, so starry-eyed, and probably the most hardworking group of people I’ve ever met. I’ve worked with a lot of artists since then but I think they still take that top spot. Outside of money, they had everything it took to make it, so once they started rising… it all happened so fast. It was a rollercoaster of a career, for sure. 

Interviewer: Did they change a lot as people, once they started getting bigger? Once they were truly famous? 

Shimizu Kiyoko: I think that when huge shifts like that happen in your life, when your lifestyle changes to that extent, and when the pressure on you multiplies by a thousand… you can’t help but change. It’s inevitable. It’s necessary. They had to change and adapt to survive. Although, some of them changed and adapted better than the others. Some of them struggled a lot more with it. It was like watching newborn babies trying to learn how to walk and talk and I don’t blame them. I mean, I was just a makeup artist but I got whiplash too. [chuckles] The amount of work we were suddenly doing was… insanity. I still don’t know how they did it. They were changing, but it probably didn’t feel that way to them. They probably felt like all of a sudden, the entire world had changed and only they stayed the same. It must’ve been terrifying.  

Interviewer: Kiyoko-san, when you heard we were doing this documentary and that we wanted to call you in for an interview… What went through your mind? What kind of questions did you mentally prepare yourself to answer?

Shimizu Kiyoko: I was prepared for a lot of questions about how they acted off camera. To which, I’ll say they were funnier than you think, nicer than you think, and wilder than you think. [laughs] Atsumu was very particular about his eye makeup, Kiyoomi was very particular about makeup brands because of his delicate skin, Kageyama hated wearing contacts, and Osamu called them all divas all the while being a bit of a diva himself. [chuckles] So, that’s all I have to say about that. I was also prepared for a lot of questions about the web of complicated relationships within the group. And to that, I can only talk about what things looked like from my perspective, which was that… Bokuto and Akaashi Keiji were always meant to be, Kageyama and Hinata really are perpetually single and I know people won’t believe me when I say that but it’s true, Suna Rintarou and Yachi Hitoka did not date and never did… but neither did Suna and Osamu. Although, it’s a lot more complicated than that. 

Interviewer: What about Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi?

Shimizu Kiyoko: Doesn’t everyone know by now? [laughs] I found out about them relatively late but they made a lot of sense to me. They’re beautiful together and anyone who knows them, really knows them, would know that. I think what those two feel for each other has always been so good and pure and inevitable. The love they felt for each other and the unconditional support they gave each other was… vital. It was good for them. It’s everything around them that wasn’t, you know? It’s a lot of the noise around them that wouldn’t allow their relationship to just be what it was. 

Interviewer: So, as someone who was there from the very beginning… When do you think things started to get bad for Dusk?

Shimizu Kiyoko: [sighs deeply] Well, I would say it was when the fans stopped being just fans and started being terrifying stalkers, and when the media stopped being the media and started being fucking assholes. 

Interviewer: Woah.

Shimizu Kiyoko: Sorry.

Interviewer: No, don’t be. I agree.

Shimizu Kiyoko: Obviously, I don’t mean you! Why would I mean you? You’re a victim of it too. 

Interviewer: [laughs] 

Shimizu Kiyoko: [laughs]

Interviewer: It was around your second or third year that things started getting really crazy. Do you guys remember any crazy things that fans did during that period of time that made you think, ‘Woah, I wasn’t prepared for this.’

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Someone gave me a letter that they’d written with their own blood. I almost threw up.

Kageyama Tobio: There were fans who shaved their heads in an attempt to follow us into the men’s bathroom.

Miya Atsumu: We stopped being allowed to accept gifts because there was this one time that someone put a hidden camera in one of the eyes of a stuffed bear. We were lucky that one of the staff caught it before we brought it home. 

Hinata Shoyo: Someone broke into our dorm once! It was horrifying! We woke up to them standing over us and taking pictures. [shivers] That’s when we moved to a better dorm. And hired more security. 

Suna Rintarou: At one point, someone sent me a signed marriage certificate. [snorts]

Bokuto Koutarou: As everyone knows, some of them used to follow us around in taxis and chase us down the street wherever we were. They would also harass phone companies to get our numbers, no matter how many times we changed them. We were always grateful for our fans but stuff like that made us really paranoid. I mean, at the end of the day, it’s because of people who went those lengths that… [breathes deeply] that a lot of the things happened the way they did. 

Miya Atsumu: I mean… that was why it all got so fucked, right? People just followed us around hoping to get pieces of us that they had no rights to.

Interviewer: You’re talking about the people who tried to push and probe at you and Sakusa-kun’s relationship, despite the seriousness of what you guys were going through at the time?

Miya Atsumu: I guess, yeah, among a lot of other things. So, here you have it, folks. I’m saying it as it is, without beating around the bush, for the first time ever! Omi and I are gay! We are in a gay relationship! We’ve been in one for years! Yup! He and I, being and doing the exact same thing Bokkun got kicked out of the goddamn team for! 

Interviewer: … After all these years of never officially confirming nor denying, what’s pushed you to make it clear now? Ten years later?

Miya Atsumu: Because I have a fuckin’ bone to pick, that’s why. For me and Omi, for Bokkun and Keiji… and for Sunarin and Samu.

Bokuto Koutarou: [smiles] Hey, can I have a bathroom break? [laughs] Sorry, guys, I forgot how long these types of shoots can take and I drank waaay too much water. 

Interviewer: Ah. Of course, you did. You always drink too much water when you’re nervous. [chuckles]

__

Sixteen Years Ago

“Hello, vlog camera one.” Osamu says, pressing his face into the camera lens, “We’re goin’ on a travel show and we were told to use you to film scenes of our brotherly love.”

He then turns the camera around to point it at Atsumu, who’s busy filling up two bowls with fried rice at the airport lounge buffet. 

“There’s Tsumu, my brother, gettin’ my food for me ‘cause he lost our game of flick the bottle cap.” He guffaws when Atsumu nearly trips over the carpet on his way to get the utensils. “Hah. I feel like I’m filmin’ a nature documentary.”

“What are you doing?” Suna asks.

“For centuries, there were fearsome tales of a half human monster roaming the forests of Kansai,” He zooms into Atsumu’s nostrils, “Wow! The similarities to humans are startling! There is an obvious physical resemblance despite the fact that they are only intelligent enough to hunt and gather and communicate nonverbally–”

Atsumu walks up to the camera with a deadpan stare and ignores Suna cackling at the side, as he presents Osamu with his lunch. “You’re lucky I didn’t poison this shit, you asshole.”

“No swearing or else we can’t use the footage, idiot.” Osamu bites back, taking the plate with his free hand, “Anyway, guys. We’re gonna eat now. I’ll film some more later once I get rid of the clone.” 

As he covers the camera with his hand and struggles to look for the off switch for a couple seconds, a short portion of Atsumu and Kiyoomi talking to each other is barely caught by the mic and only gets unearthed later because of Twitter. 

“Omi, wanna go to the bathroom with me?” “... No.” “Ugh. You’re so boring, it’s almost a skill.” 

SakuAtsu trends worldwide.

*

The tour had not only taught them the pure bliss and fulfillment of being musicians and performers, it also taught them the amount of physical endurance and professionalism it required. Suna had managed to perform an entire concert with a raging fever, Osamu had done one with food poisoning and spent all of his time backstage with his head in a bucket and Suna’s hand on his back, Kageyama injured his ankle warming up and had to perform the last few shows sitting on a spinny chair, Hinata hit his head on some metal fixture backstage and had to perform a song with blood dripping down his forehead, Atsumu nearly passed out from heat exhaustion in the Philippines and had to be hooked to an IV after the show, and only Bokuto and Kiyoomi had managed to get through the whole tour relatively unscathed. 

“I guess we just have superior immune systems, don’t we, Omi-kun?” Bokuto had cackled about it the night of their celebratory dinner once the Before Dusk Tour was over.

“No, I think they’re just careless idiots.” Is all he said back to that. 

As a reward for their hard work and all the bags of money they’d earned for their company, Black Jackals decided to give them a vacation in the form of a travel show. 

Here, a free trip to Seoul, South Korea, on the condition that you guys film your every move before the clock hits midnight, let a bunch of staff come with you to babysit, and you strictly follow this fun family friendly itinerary for 5 days.

Fair enough. 

When they land in Seoul, they’re immediately placed in a game where they’re made to find their own way to the penthouse that the company had rented for them. They are also made to rely on public transport, never mind that their mere presence causes public disruptions, so they get on a bus and ignore the murmuring and staring. They proceed to argue about which stop to get off on, they predictably get off on the wrong one, and then they end up having to take two taxis which multiple fans attempt to follow. It takes them an hour longer than it should have to find their accommodation.

Once they’d finished touring the cameras around the penthouse, struggled to prepare their own meals, finished eating, played a game to decide who cleans up, pretended it’s bedtime and turned all the cameras off, Atsumu immediately tiredly collapses onto the couch right beside Michimiya Yui, one of the newest assistants on their team. 

He playfully nudges her with his elbow and before he can open his mouth to say anything, she returns his playful nudging with a playful glare.

“Are you trying to flirt with me again, Miya Atsumu?”

“Why, do you want me to?” He smirks. 

She sighs and shakes her head. “You’ll tire yourself out eventually.” 

“There he goes again.” Their manager sighs like an exhausted parent, sharing a knowing look with the rest of their crew. 

Atsumu is fully aware of the fact that Michimiya feels absolutely nothing for him. She’s engaged to one of the finest specimens of man he’s ever seen in real life and no one is more professional than her. Plus, Atsumu couldn’t be attracted to her even if he tried. He’s known that from the age of twelve. 

A cover story is how he’d explained it to Kiyoomi. 

He’s doing this because if worst comes to worst and he was one day suspected of committing the worst crime a famous idol could possibly commit (have sex), it’d still be a thousand times better for people to believe he was doing it with his engaged female assistant rather than his single male bandmate. 

A cover story, he’d said to Kiyoomi, we both need one to keep people from being suspicious of us having a secret sexy love affair.

Well. That’s what he’d said, except that Osamu and Suna are staring at him like they absolutely can’t take him seriously and Kiyoomi is looking at him like he’s seething with rage. Atsumu wouldn’t have pegged Sakusa Kiyoomi as a jealous boyfriend but evidently, he didn’t even need to be a boyfriend to be jealous. 

He’d be really smug about that if it wasn’t so troublesome. 

No, actually, he’s still pretty smug. Because Atsumu’s a jealous boyfriend too and he’s so in love with him that it’s almost stupid. He’s so goddamn jealous of anyone who would be allowed to be in love with him without all these stupid consequences. 

But he doesn’t really want to sit down and think about that for too long because if he does, he’ll probably start crying. 

Besides, they’ve decided to be responsible about this. After all, they’re a part of Dusk. And all seven of them had decided that this year, they were going to behave themselves and stay focused on the goal. This year was going to be all about work. No room to be irresponsible. No room for potential controversy. Easy-peasy.

“Oh, fuck, Omi,” Atsumu moans loudly, making Kiyoomi shove two fingers in his mouth to muffle his noises, “Yeah, fuck me, just like that–”

Kiyoomi near pounds him straight through the bathroom wall and Atsumu shakes and sweats, legs wrapped around the man’s waist, eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

“Feel good, Atsumu?” He whispers, biting his earlobe, “Does it feel good when I make you mine?”

“Possessive beast.” Atsumu mumbles around his spit-covered fingers, “I’m yours, Omi, I’m all yours, fuck me harder, come inside me–”

Outside the bathroom, music is blasting from Osamu’s bluetooth speakers and God knows what the fuck the rest of their members and staff are doing out there. They only hope that no neighbor calls the cops on them for the noise again lest the world wakes up to an article titled ‘Popular idol group, Dusk, being held for possession of illegal drugs and Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi are caught by police having sex in the bathroom!’ the next morning. 

They should at least come before that happens.

“Fuck,” Kiyoomi swears through gritted teeth, speeding up, “I’m close.”

“Me too,” Atsumu gasps, “Fuck, c’mon, jerk me off.”

Kiyoomi’s hands are dry and callused when they wrap around Atsumu’s cock. It hurts but in a delicious way. His breath smells like tequila but his skin smells like body lotion and tastes like saltwater. 

Atsumu thinks to himself, he’s mine. Except he isn’t. Not really. 

“Gonna come, Omi–”

He tightens his grip around him. “Do it.”

Atsumu bites down on his shoulder as his orgasm hits him in waves, Kiyoomi fucking him through it fast and hard, coming inside him only seconds later. He feels it in him, sticky, sore and warm. 

They probably shouldn’t have done that. 

They breathe hard, Kiyoomi slowly lowering Atsumu onto his shaky legs, cum dripping down his thighs. 

“Shit. We need to clean up.” He mumbles against his neck.

“And whose fuckin’ fault is that?” Atsumu grunts. 

These days, the thrill and relief from doing what they’re doing only lasts until about thirty seconds after they come. Once that’s over, all that’s left is choking resentment. 

Who it’s for exactly, they don’t really know anymore. So, they try to convince themselves that it’s for each other. They find that it’s easier to think of it that way. 

*

Atsumu’s gotten into the habit of post-orgasm cigarettes. He sighs as he steps out into the freezing Seoul night air, shutting the door of the balcony behind him, muffling the sounds of Kendrick Lamar rapping about swimming pools full of liquor. 

Osamu looks up at him from his position on the lawn chair, breathing out smoke from his own cigarette. He takes one look at him and then makes a face. 

“God fuckin’ damn it, Tsumu, don’t come to me right after ya do the nasty with him. Can you guys please control yourselves when there are new staff around? You smell like sex.” 

Atsumu grins and shoves his brother aside, pressing close to him on the chair and grabbing his pack to steal one for himself, placing it between his teeth. “Yeah? Feelin’ jealous that you never get to smell like this?”

“You’re fuckin’ gross.” Osamu says, even as he lights Atsumu’s cigarette for him. “Do you two even know what the hell you’re doing?”

“Tch. Have a little more faith in us, Samu. We’ve been doin’ this for a couple years now. We know the ins and outs of having a successful secret sexy love affair without gettin’ caught.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, idiot.”

Atsumu doesn’t have to ask what he means. That’s the one good part about having a twin brother. Never having to ask, always just knowing. 

The lack of words they need to say to each other is, to them, what their intimacy is made of. To know each other so well that it goes beyond any language there is. 

“I’m alright, Samu. Just worry about yourself.”

He scoffs at that, laying his head back against the backrest. “Don’t compare me to you. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You’re sayin’ you’re fine? Every time Sunarin makes so much as extended eye contact with Hitoka-chan, you look like you wanna shoot yourself in the fuckin’ head.”

Osamu’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t bother saying anything to that because he can lie to anyone else, but never him. Atsumu will know, Osamu will know that he knows, they will both understand and in that quiet understanding, know that they have each other’s backs no matter what. 

Instead of arguing with his brother, he just shakes his head. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

“Then when?”

“Lay off me, Tsumu. I mean it.” He says, “And don’t get on my case about that, of all things. You think we don’t see how Omi-kun’s always tryin’ to murder you with his eyes whenever you’re anywhere near Michimiya-san’s general vicinity?”

Atsumu shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. He fucks me better when he’s jealous.”

He grimaces. “Please do not tell me anything about your sex life with him.”

“Sometimes, when he keeps going after I come, it makes me piss–”

“I will kill myself in front of you and change the trajectory of your life.”

Atsumu laughs. “Okay, I’m stopping.”

Osamu relaxes. They quietly sit together for a while, comforted by the mere act of being alone together. They rarely ever are anymore, with all the bustle and noise and people constantly surrounding them. 

After a while, once they’ve smoked half of Osamu’s pack in silence, Atsumu feels his brother shift and rest his head on his shoulder. He reflexively presses his cheek against Osamu’s hair. 

“Are you tired, Samu?”

“Yeah.” He says quietly, like it’s the first time he’s saying it out loud and the only time he will. “I’m really goddamn tired, Tsumu.”

Osamu’s honesty is something that only Atsumu can ever afford. 

“Me too.” He says, just as honestly, saying it out loud only now and only to him. 

And without saying anything else, they know all the rest of it. They were tired of a lot of things, of a lot of people, of all the shitty and complicated feelings that they cannot help but feel. 

The same way that Osamu knows that Atsumu and Kiyoomi love each other when no one else can see or hear, Atsumu knows that Osamu and Suna love each other so quietly, that neither of them can hear the other. 

“Are we still havin’ fun, Tsumu?”

It takes him a little too long to answer, longer than it would’ve taken him if he was still thirteen and starry-eyed. 

But in the end, he says, “We are, Samu.”

He says it as confidently as he can, hoping that it somehow convinces Osamu and hoping that he somehow convinces himself. 

His brother looks up at him, as if to check if he’s telling the truth and he realizes that right now, Osamu’s eyes actually don’t look tired at all. They just look really fucking high. 

__

Sakusa Kiyoomi: The importance of being a team player. It’s one of the first things they teach you when you’re a trainee and they beat it into your head. It doesn’t matter how good you are at dancing, singing, or rapping. It doesn’t matter how hard working you are or how good looking you are. If you aren’t a team player, you won’t go far. If you can’t sacrifice for your team, then you’re better off not being in one at all. That’s what they tell you. And… they’re right.

Bokuto Koutarou: I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? You see it in all kinds of things. Idol groups, bands, sports teams, armies. There’s a famous motto for it and everything. Teamwork makes the dream work. But it’s kind of… how do I put this… there’s pros and cons to that kind of thinking. And when you take being a team player to the extremes… it can get really bad for everyone. That’s what I learned, at least.

Kageyama Tobio: I was raised to be a star is how I always put it. My parents showered me with love and attention, praised and treated me like I was special until I believed that I was, and I think it made me kind of self-absorbed. I’m old enough to admit that now. It made me act out and I guess it made being a part of a team harder sometimes. I remember when we were trainees, if one person messed up, we all had to get punished together. And I’d think to myself, ‘What the hell did I do? I did everything right! It’s not my fault they suck!’ [laughs]

Sakusa Kiyoomi: I remember when I got my first acting offer and how excited I was for it… only to have my manager tell me that I wasn’t allowed to accept it. [chuckles] I wasn’t allowed because Dusk’s comeback was coming up and we had to prepare for another round of promotions and our biggest tour yet and I didn’t have the time. I got so fucking mad. [laughs] 

Suna Rintarou: I was getting a lot of offers to produce for other artists and groups. People really wanted me and were willing to pay good money. The company used to reject them for me, before I could even hear about those offers. They’d tell them I was too busy. I was pissed. All I could think was, “Jesus. Do we get nothing for ourselves now? Do we not get to decide anything at all?” Like, damn, can’t a guy do a collaboration with LiSA in his free time? Was that too much to ask? 

Interviewer: Woah, LiSA wanted to work with you and they refused?! That’s crazy! 

Suna Rintarou: That’s what I fucking said! 

Hinata Shoyo: Back then, I used to have to calm myself down by meditating and repeating things like a mantra. [chuckles] ‘I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.’ I tried to comfort myself by saying that the fruits of our labor would be worth it, that it would be worth it for the sake of the team, but… I don’t know. I think it’s human to sometimes wonder if you’re making the right choices. And I understand that for the other guys, it was natural to start getting frustrated and resentful. 

Miya Atsumu: It was really annoying to me, I think, just… [sighs] My whole goddamn life, y’know? My whole life was spent living for other people, breakin’ my back and giving them everythin’ I had to make sure that everyone was satisfied and I wasn’t letting anyone down. To convince everyone of my talent and my worth. I thought that Dusk, becoming an idol, being onstage, was the one thing that would at least feel like it was all mine. But it just didn’t anymore. That feeling slowly slipped out of my grasp and… I think a lot of the guys felt the same way. I think that’s what kept us up at night, drinking or getting high.

Bokuto Koutarou: Our CEO once said that being in a famous idol group is like having a new last name. Because no one is ever going to know me as just Bokuto Koutarou anymore, I’m always going to be Bokuto Koutarou of Dusk. And so everything we do, all the good and the bad, doesn’t reflect only on us as individuals but on the whole team. And that was something that we had to carry as both a badge of honor and a weight. It’s just that… I think that weight felt a little more unbearable to some more than others.

Kageyama Tobio: Things changed a lot really fast. We couldn’t keep up with our own lives. As the lack of control grew, our ambition also grew… and our fandom grew too. [chuckles] It was still really great. So much of our experiences back then were amazing and we were grateful, but it also started getting really… scary.

Interviewer: The fans?

Kageyama Tobio: I know that sounds bad, but… I think most people will get what I mean. That car accident was all over the news, after all. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Looking back, I think it all started with that car accident. Things slowly started unraveling from there. 

Miya Atsumu: Yeah, the car crash. That was the start of a lot of things that made it hard to be a team. [pause] It really is kinda funny, y’know… being an idol. It’s like bein’ worshipped and assaulted at the same time.