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Miya Atsumu, the self-proclaimed "Best Setter," could pinpoint the exact moment his world tilted off its axis. It wasn't when he perfected his jump float serve, or when he joined the illustrious MSBY Black Jackals. No, it was in a high school gym, watching a tiny, orange-haired middle blocker from Karasuno soar through the air like a crow taking flight. Hinata Shoyo. From that moment, Atsumu was captivated, a strange, undeniable pull drawing him to the boy who moved like pure instinct and shone like the sun. He'd been in love, in his own dramatic, Atsumu-way, ever since.
He’d envisioned their future sets, their perfect quicks, a masterpiece of volleyball played out on the grandest stages. Then, the universe, in its infinite wisdom, threw a wrench into his carefully crafted destiny: Hinata Shoyo was going to Brazil. For beach volleyball. Atsumu had felt a pang of something akin to betrayal, a grand, theatrical heartbreak. How could his future ace, his little sunshine, abandon indoor volleyball for… sand?
But fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Years later, Hinata returned, not only a formidable indoor player but still radiating that same blinding energy. And now, they were teammates on the Black Jackals. Atsumu saw his second chance, a golden opportunity to finally make Hinata see him not just as a setter, but as his setter, his partner, his… everything. His flirtation, therefore, wasn't just a casual pastime; it was a meticulously crafted, if often misunderstood, performance, designed to win over the one person who seemed utterly immune to his legendary charm.
The MSBY Black Jackals’ practice court was a chorus of squeaking shoes, grunts, and the rhythmic thud of volleyballs. But for Miya Atsumu, it was a stage. And his audience of one was Hinata Shoyo.
"Shoyo-kun, your jumps today are so high, I swear you're defying gravity just to get closer to my perfect sets," Atsumu purred, leaning in a little too close as he handed Hinata a towel. His eyes lingered, trying to convey a deeper meaning beyond the literal.
Hinata, wiping sweat from his brow, beamed back, completely oblivious. "They are, aren't they?! Your sets make it so easy, Atsumu-san! It’s like you're pulling me up!"
Atsumu nearly choked on air. Pulling him up. He was trying to be smooth, poetic even, and Hinata was taking it as a technical compliment. This was going to be harder than spiking a perfect quick while blindfolded. He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair.
"WOAH, ATSUMU!" a booming voice cut through the air, making half the team jump. Bokuto , ever the observant (and loud) owl, bounced over, pointing a dramatic finger. "Are you flirting with Hinata?! I saw that! You totally gave him the sparkly eyes and the lean-in! That's a classic Atsumu move!"
Atsumu scoffed, trying to look nonchalant, though his cheeks felt a little warm. "Me? Flirtin'? Bo-kun, I'm just bein' a good teammate. Encouragin' our little sunshine to reach new heights, literally." He winked at Hinata, who just tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face.
From across the court, Sakusa, meticulously sanitizing a volleyball with a spray bottle, let out a disgusted sigh that was audible even over the court noise. "Miya, control your bodily fluids. And your idiocy. Keep it contained to your personal space, preferably a different prefecture."
Atsumu just grinned, blowing a kiss in Sakusa's direction. "Jealous, Omi-kun? Don't worry, there's enough sunshine for everyone to bask in! Though, some of us get a VIP pass." He nudged Hinata playfully with his elbow.
Hinata, meanwhile, was still trying to process Bokuto's accusation. "Flirting? What's flirting? Is it like... when Atsumu-san tries to trick me into buying him ice cream after practice, but then he pays for it anyway?"
Atsumu's jaw dropped. "Shoyo-kun! I'd never trick you! I'd charm you! There's a difference! A very important, subtle difference!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, earning another long-suffering sigh from Sakusa.
The next team dinner was at a bustling yakiniku place, a prime location for the meddling trio to put their plan into action. Bokuto, with a conspiratorial glint in his eye, elbowed Meian, who was just trying to order. "Captain! We need to play a game! A pairing game! For team bonding!"
Before anyone could object, Bokuto had strategically arranged the seating. Atsumu found himself directly across from Hinata, with Bokuto himself on Hinata's left, and a perpetually exasperated Sakusa on Atsumu's right. Osamu, who had reluctantly joined for the free food, was seated strategically where Atsumu could easily corner him later.
"Okay!" Bokuto clapped his hands, nearly knocking over a water pitcher. "First game: 'Who Knows Hinata Best?!' Atsumu, you go first! What's Hinata's favorite food to eat after a really tough match?"
Atsumu, caught off guard but seizing the opportunity, leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. "Easy! Onigiri, but specifically the kind with salmon, and he always eats it with that weird, excited little hum he makes when he's really happy." He smirked, pleased with his detailed, almost intimate knowledge.
Hinata blinked, genuinely surprised. "Wow, Atsumu-san! You really do pay attention! How did you know about the hum?"
Bokuto cheered, pumping his fist. "See?! They're practically married already! Atsumu knows his hums!"
Sakusa, meticulously grilling his meat with tongs that looked suspiciously clean, muttered, "This is why I prefer takeout. Less… auditory pollution."
Later, as the meal progressed, Bokuto tried another tactic. "Okay, next game! 'Feed Your Partner!' Atsumu, feed Hinata some meat! It's good for building trust!"
Atsumu's eyes widened, a genuine blush dusting his cheeks. This was a direct order! He picked up a perfectly grilled slice of beef with his chopsticks, holding it out to Hinata with a flourish. "Open wide, Shoyo-kun. Only the best for my future ace." He added the last part under his breath, but not quite quietly enough.
Hinata, ever the innocent, opened his mouth. As Atsumu carefully placed the meat, their fingers brushed, a small spark of something passing between them. Hinata giggled, his eyes bright. "It's even better when you feed it to me, Atsumu-san! It tastes… special!"
Atsumu felt his heart do a triple axel, then a quadruple flip. Special. This kid was going to be the death of him. His frustration mounted. He was practically screaming his intentions, and Hinata was just… enjoying the food.
Sakusa, witnessing the exchange, gagged dramatically. "I'm losing my appetite. And my faith in humanity. And possibly my will to live in this germ-infested proximity."
That night, back in his apartment, Atsumu paced a frantic path, phone pressed to his ear, his voice a dramatic whine. "Osamu! He's still not gettin' it! I fed him meat! Bokuto practically screamed 'marry him!' And he just says it tastes better! What am I doing wrong?!"
On the other end, Osamu's voice was flat, punctuated by the sound of chewing. "You're bein' yourself, 'Tsumu. That's the problem."
"Hey!" Atsumu protested. "My charm is legendary!"
"Your charm is like a flashing neon sign that says 'I'm trying too hard, please notice me!' Maybe 'cause you are funny, 'Tsumu. You're also an idiot. Stop bein' a peacock and just tell him." Osamu crunched on something. "Or, you know, stop bein' a theatrical idiot and try bein' a normal one for a change."
"But that's not my style!" Atsumu whined, throwing himself onto his couch. "I gotta be subtle! Flirty! Mysterious!"
"You?" Osamu snorted, a sound of pure derision. "Subtle? Mysterious? You're about as subtle as a bull in a china shop and as mysterious as a broken vending machine. Just be normal for once. Or keep feeding him meat, maybe he'll get it eventually. He seems to like that."
Atsumu groaned. "He just thinks I'm being nice! He's so… innocent! How do I get through to him?!"
"Maybe you stop tryin' to be a 'schemer' and just… be honest," Osamu suggested, a hint of genuine advice creeping into his tone. "He's not gonna pick up on your 'flirty' signals if they're buried under five layers of 'Atsumu being Atsumu.' Just… talk to him. Like a human."
Atsumu scoffed. "A human? What's that?" But Osamu's words, as annoying as they were, resonated. Maybe he was overthinking it.
The next day, after a particularly grueling practice match that left everyone drained, the locker room was slowly emptying. Bokuto, surprisingly, was the one ushering people out with unusual efficiency. "Come on, come on! Atsumu and Shoyo have some important strategy to discuss! Very top secret! No eavesdropping!" He winked broadly at Hinata, who just looked confused but went along with it.
Sakusa, pulling on his jacket, shot Atsumu a final, disgusted look that somehow conveyed both annoyance and a grudging sense of "just get it over with." "Don't touch anything, Miya. Especially him. I'm not cleaning up your emotional mess." He gestured vaguely at Hinata before exiting.
Soon, it was just Atsumu and Hinata. The air was thick with the scent of liniment and the quiet hum of the ventilation system. Hinata was meticulously packing his bag, still buzzing from the game, replaying spikes in his head.
Atsumu leaned against the lockers, watching him. His usual flamboyant energy was muted by exhaustion, replaced by a softer, more genuine warmth. He took a deep breath, remembering Osamu's advice. Just be normal.
"You were incredible today, Shoyo-kun," he said, his voice lower than usual, devoid of any exaggerated theatrics. "That last spike you pulled off... the one where you twisted mid-air? It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. You make my sets look even better, you know."
Hinata paused, looking up, his bright eyes wide and earnest. "Really? You think so, Atsumu-san? I was trying that new angle you showed me."
Atsumu pushed off the locker, taking a slow step closer. "Yeah, really." He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before gently tucking a stray strand of orange hair behind Hinata's ear. His touch was light, almost hesitant, a stark contrast to his usual bold, teasing gestures. "You know," he continued, his voice barely a whisper, "I've never met anyone who makes me want to be better, just by being themselves. You're... you're like a little sun, Shoyo-kun. You light up everything around you. And I kinda like basking in your light."
Hinata's breath hitched. The casual touch, the soft words, the genuine admiration in Atsumu's eyes – it was all suddenly, overwhelmingly clear. It wasn't just playful teasing. It wasn't just about volleyball. It was more. All of Bokuto's loud declarations, Sakusa's annoyed observations, Osamu's blunt comments about Atsumu's "idiocy" – they clicked into place, forming a coherent picture he'd been too busy jumping to see. Atsumu wasn't just flirting; he was serious.
His face flushed a brilliant, undeniable red, rivaling his hair. He stammered, his voice barely audible. "A-Atsumu-san... you... you really mean that? Like... like really mean it?" His eyes searched Atsumu's, a new understanding dawning.
Atsumu's signature smirk returned, but it was softer, more tender than usual. He leaned in just a fraction, his gaze intense, his voice a low rumble. "Every single word, Shoyo-kun. So, what do ya say? Wanna keep shining for me? Maybe... off the court too?"
Hinata's heart pounded, a frantic drum against his ribs. He managed a shaky, but undeniably bright, smile. He took a small step closer, closing the remaining distance. "Yeah... yeah! I wanna shine for you, Atsumu-san! Everywhere!"
Atsumu froze. His brain, usually a whirlwind of calculations and witty comebacks, seemed to short-circuit. He'd expected a confused "Huh?" or another literal interpretation of his usual theatrics. He'd prepared for more prolonged pursuit, more subtle escalation. He hadn't, in all his years of pining and flamboyant flirting, actually prepared for success.
His smirk faltered, replaced by a look of genuine, wide-eyed shock. "Wait... you... you do?" He pointed a finger at Hinata, then at himself, as if confirming the participants in this unexpected turn of events. "Like... really? You get it? All of it?" The words tumbled out, uncharacteristically clumsy. Years of carefully constructed romantic schemes and dramatic gestures had just been shattered by a simple, earnest "Yeah."
Hinata giggled, a bright, clear sound that snapped Atsumu back to reality. "Yeah, Atsumu-san! I think so! It took me a while, but... yeah!" He leaned in, quick and impulsive, and planted a soft, chaste kiss on Atsumu's cheek. "You're pretty radiant too, you know!"
Atsumu's cheek burned where Hinata's lips had been. He touched the spot, his mind reeling. He'd been kissed. By Hinata. His little sun, his future ace, the one he'd been pining for since high school. He looked at Hinata, who was now beaming, utterly unselfconscious, and a slow, genuine smile spread across Atsumu's face, devoid of any pretense or performance. It was real. All of it.
The next morning, Bokuto practically vibrated with excitement, doing a triumphant little dance in the locker room. "THEY'RE HOLDING HANDS! I KNEW IT! MY MATCHMAKING POWERS ARE ULTIMATE! YOU'RE WELCOME, ATSUMU!"
Atsumu and Hinata, walking into practice side-by-side, Hinata's hand comfortably nestled in Atsumu's, just laughed. Atsumu squeezed Hinata's hand, a triumphant grin on his face. "Told ya I'd charm him, Bo-kun. Just needed a little push... and a lot of patience."
Sakusa, watching from a safe distance, merely pinched the bridge of his nose, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. "Disgusting. Now they'll be even more insufferable. I'm going to need more hand sanitizer." But there was a faint, almost imperceptible, twitch at the corner of his lips, a sign that even he, deep down, was perhaps a little relieved the constant flirting had finally resolved.
Atsumu's phone buzzed. It was a text from Osamu: Finally. Took ya long enough, dumbass. Don't mess it up. And you owe me yakiniku.
Atsumu just chuckled, tightening his grip on Hinata's hand. He had a feeling he wouldn't mess it up. After all, he had the best sunshine right by his side, and a whole team of chaotic meddlers to keep things interesting.