Chapter Text
You had always known dating Miya Atsumu would be explosive.
Well, duh. It was Atsumu.
He was fun, affectionate, and endlessly playful, but Osamu’s warning from the year before should have been taken far more seriously. Atsumu loved fiercely, expected just as much in return, and rarely backed down from confrontation. He wasn’t a bad person—not even close—but he could be stubborn, painfully blunt, and just selfish enough to believe his way was always the right one.
At first, those flaws had been easy to overlook. His enthusiasm was infectious, his confidence irresistible, and loving him felt like standing in the middle of a fireworks display. Somewhere along the way, though, the sparks had begun to burn. The arguments came more often than either of you cared to admit, and when they happened, Atsumu never softened his words. Frustration slipped too easily into criticism, and criticism often became something much harder to forget.
Still, you loved him.
So when the idea of spending an afternoon together at the local volleyball court crossed your mind, it felt like the perfect date. Volleyball was the language Atsumu understood best. If there was any place where the two of you could reconnect, surely it would be there.
At first, everything went exactly as you’d hoped. Atsumu patiently showed you the basics, adjusting your stance, demonstrating receives, and celebrating the rare occasions when you managed to send the ball back in the right direction. You laughed more than you played, and for a little while, it felt like the old days again.
Then the mistakes began to pile up.
One bad receive became another. You forgot to bend your knees. Your forearms weren’t level. The ball flew wildly in every direction except the one Atsumu wanted.
You noticed the shift before he said a word. His smile disappeared. His instructions became shorter.
Until finally—
“For the last damn time,” he growled, his voice rising in frustration. “Keep yer forearms flat when ya receive, or ya can’t aim the ball! And bend yer damn knees—ugh, forget it! I don’t know why I even bother.”
He threw his hands into the air, exasperation written plainly across his face.
“Useless.”
The word slipped out before either of you could stop it.
Muttering under his breath about how you “weren’t takin’ it seriously,” Atsumu stormed toward the sidelines, kicking a volleyball harshly out of his path.
You stood frozen in the middle of the court, your chest tightening.
You knew better than anyone how seriously Atsumu took volleyball.
But this…
“Don’t you think that’s too much?” you shot back, your voice louder than you’d intended. “Don’t you think you crossed the line, calling me useless?”
Atsumu stopped in his tracks. For a brief second, his shoulders went rigid. His back remained turned toward you, but his fingers curled into fists at his sides before he slowly looked over one shoulder. Irritation still simmered plainly in his eyes.
“…Crossed the line?” A dry laugh escaped him, humorless and sharp. He turned to face you fully, planting one hand on his hip while the other swept impatiently toward the volleyball court.
“I’ve been explainin’ the same thing over and over. Yer standin’ straight as a damn pole, swingin’ yer arms wherever ya feel like, then lookin’ at me like ya don’t know why the ball keeps flyin’ everywhere.” His hand sliced through the air with every sentence, each gesture quicker than the last.
“So yeah, I got pissed.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “‘Cause it felt like ya weren’t even tryin’.”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t a pro player the moment I touched a volleyball.” You laughed bitterly, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “I bet the great Miya Atsumu was sooo good the first time he ever played.” Then, you gave a hollow smile. “Do you hate me now that I’m useless?”
“The hell’s that supposed ta mean?” Atsumu snapped, raising his voice. He took a frustrated step forward before catching himself, raking a hand roughly through his hair.
“Ya think I woke up one day knowin’ how ta play?” He let out a scoff. “I worked my ass off fer this. Every damn day. Every stupid mistake. Every time Coach chewed me out, I fixed it.”
Jabbing thumb against his own chest, he said, “So don’t stand there actin’ like I don’t know what it’s like ta suck.” Silence hung between you for only a heartbeat. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly.
“And…” His jaw tightened as he exhaled through his nose. “I never said I hated ya.”
The anger in his voice dulled, replaced by something taut and defensive. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
He closed the distance by another step, stopping just in front of you. His frustration still radiated from every tense line of his body, but there was no threat in the movement—only a desperate need to make himself understood.
“I called ya useless ’cause I was angry.” He looked away for the briefest moment before meeting your eyes again. “Alright? It slipped out.” His voice dropped. “That doesn’t mean I hate ya.”
He should have stopped there.
“…And don’t twist it into somethin’ bigger just ’cause yer upset.” His words came slower this time, each one chosen with the sole purpose of defending himself. “Yer just bein’ dramatic and makin’ it sound like I’m some terrible boyfriend over one bad argument.”
The moment the sentence left his mouth, regret flickered across his face. It was brief. But it was there. Because the look in your eyes told him he’d just said something far worse than “useless.”
“You knew everyone made mistakes when they first started.” Your voice cracked, frustration finally spilling over. “Even you made mistakes, so why are you yelling at me?”
You took an unsteady step backward, shaking your head.
“Besides, are you my coach?” A bitter laugh escaped you. “Why are you being so harsh? Why would you go as far as insulting me?”
Your eyes searched his face. “…Weren’t we supposed to have a date?”
Date.
Atsumu opened his mouth, ready with another rebuttal. Nothing came. He let out a sharp breath instead, dragging a hand roughly through his blond hair before letting it fall limp to his side.
“…Because ya kept doin’ the same thing.” The excuse sounded weak the moment it left his mouth. “So I got frustrated.”
His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. His eyes found yours again, still stubborn, still unwilling to surrender—but the anger wasn’t as clear anymore. Something heavier had settled in its place.
Guilt.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to ruin the damn date.” His shoulders remained tense, his fingers flexing uselessly at his sides. “I just…”
The words refused to come. He scrubbed a hand across his face and sighed. “So yeah… maybe I got carried away.”
His hand lifted vaguely in your direction, as if grasping for something that could still salvage the conversation. “But I ain’t the only one yellin’ here.”
“Well, the damn date is ruined.” You echoed his words with a hollow smile that never reached your eyes. “Thank you very much…Coach.”
Without another word, you bent to pick up your bag.
“Maybe,” you said quietly, refusing to look back, “you should’ve dated one of your fellow volleyball players instead. She would’ve made you much happier.”
“…Oi.” The comment earned an immediate glare. “Don’t.”
You paused. Atsumu closed the distance between you in a few long strides before stopping just short of blocking your path.
“Don’t say stupid crap just ‘cause we’re angry.”
“Says the person who called me useless because he was frustrated.” You laughed bitterly. “And angry.”
“Tch!” He looked away, clicking his tongue. “…Yeah.”His shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly. “Doesn’t make it right.”
Silence stretched between you. His fingers slowly curled into a fist before relaxing again.
“But don’t you stand there imaginin’ I’d rather be datin’ somebody else.” He finally met your gaze. “‘Cause that’s bullshit. And you know it.”
“I don’t know it!” Your reply came so loudly as your breath was heaving out of anger.
“…What?”
“Yes! I do think that. Do you think so?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Imagine having a girlfriend who actually loves volleyball. One who can practice with you, and can actually understand what the hell you’re trying to teach.”
“You’d love someone like that so much more than me.”
Atsumu wanted to deny it. To tell you that wasn’t true. Instead, his petty ass whispered something cruel into his ear.
If she already believes it…Then why do I even try defending myself?
“So if that’s what you think…” He knew he shouldn’t be saying this so he looked away, jaw tight. “…Then maybe yer right.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him. Your heart dropped so suddenly it almost hurt to breathe.
He…
He agreed?
Perhaps realizing what he’d implied, Atsumu’s eyes flickered back toward you. But neither of you spoke.
You lowered your gaze. “…Maybe you should.” The words barely rose above a whisper. “You’d probably be happier.”
A sad smile found its way onto your face. One that did not reach your eyes. “Should I consider that you’re dumping me right now?”
“The hell?!”
“You already admitted there’s a better option.” You laughed once. It sounded broken. “What else am I supposed to think?”
Atsumu clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. “If yer gonna keep tellin’ me I’d be happier with somebody else…”
He closed his eyes for the briefest moment. His heart begged him to stop. His pride answered first. “…Then maybe yer the one who’s already decided we’re over.”
You looked at him for several long seconds. Then you nodded. “…Yeah.” Your voice barely carried. “We are.”
Everything inside Atsumu went still. He searched your face for the slightest crack. A sign that you’d take it back. There wasn’t one.
After a long silence, he let out a hollow laugh and looked away. “…Fine.” His voice sounded strangely empty. “If that’s what ya want.”
“Don’t come back tomorrow tellin’ me ya didn’t mean it!”
You didn’t answer. You simply picked up your bag, turned around, and walked away. By the time Atsumu realized you were crying, you were already running.
“Stupid, Atsumu.” The whisper disappeared into the wind long before it reached him.
The gym doors slammed shut behind you. Atsumu stood rooted to the spot, staring at them.
“Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his face, breathing hard. “Why the hell did I have to say that?”
His phone was already in his hand. He opened your chat.
Tsumu: Get home safe.
He stared at the message for several seconds. Then, he tried to send another one, but it bounced back.
Blocked.
He stared at the screen in disbelief. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
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