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polarisine · 14 days ago

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SLIPPERY PAVEMENT

₊˚⊹ ᰔ haikyuu!. miya osamu x reader ₊˚⊹ ᰔ it's raining in the kyoto winter and miya osamu has his heart eyes all over you... ₊˚⊹ ᰔ navi. ask. ۶ৎ ao3. a crosspost from 20220419

“Hey.” A teasing greeting arrives from behind… you note the familiarity of the voice, and there was no reason for you to look at his face to know who he is.

His cheers of encouragement or shouts of triumph on the court are always the first things your ears search for most of the time.

“Hey, you, yourself.” Squatting on the school building’s slippery steps, you wave a hand at him, not bothering to peek. Just staring at the pouring rain in front of you.

“It’s already seven… did yer club duties hold 'yah back?”

“Not really, I just had to make some lesson plans for the freshman I’m tutoring… I guess I never noticed the time.” You sigh, with your elbow on your knee and your head leaning on your arm. “I should’ve listened to my mom when she said it’s going to be a rainy winter.”

“Can’t say I blame 'yah for forgettin’… it was sunny this morning after all.” Miya Osamu takes a seat beside you on the steps, his long legs tuck his gym bag within them, shielding the tattered sack from the rain. You turn to look at him.

He wears the varsity jacket over a clean shirt, he probably just finished practice today. He shivers slightly and blows hot air into his pretty, ungloved hands. His scarf is haphazardly wrapped around his neck as if he put them on in a hurry, and you try to ignore the dust of red on his nose and cheeks. You argue the cold must be getting to him.

You realize your gaze lingers a little too long when he raises his eyebrows at you in a silent inquiry, abruptly turning your head to look forward, you fake a cough to match your embarrassment.

“It’s kind of stupid that it rains in Kyoto in winter… isn’t it supposed to be snowing?”

It’s already a miracle that you talk to him when he finds you hanging out with Suna during lunch breaks. He remembers the day he overheard you telling the middle blocker that Atsumu exudes frat boy jerk vibes while Osamu feels like the calmer person overall. When you said, Osamu’s better, he took harsh note of the way his poor heart skipped a beat.

At that aforementioned heart will burst at the seams at the idea of being stuck with you under the rain. It’s already a whole lot of impossible that’s happening before his eyes.

He chuckles at your question, there’s really no other answer to that. “'Yah know we live in the south, right? The closest snow yer ever gonna get from here is up in the mountains.”

You spot a lint on your uniform, and you pick it off. “Yeah, I get it, I really do. I just prefer cold and ice rather than enduring cold and water.” The lint flies off somewhere on the wet horizon, just as you flicked it off your finger. “It’s kinda hard commuting home on slippery pavement.”

A puff of mist leaves Osamu’s lips as he chuckles. His eyes stay set on the dark school courtyard before you. “I guess I can’t argue with that one.”

Osamu’s rather surprised to find solitude in the short silence, when he’s normally a tangle of a jumbled mess when around ‘Suna’s only friend outside of volleyball’. There’s gratefulness in his heart that Suna isn’t around to tease him about you.

Truth be told, club practice ended an hour and a half ago. Everybody on the team was eager to go home after finding the gray clouds adorning the sunset sky. Kita and Aran even offered to eat at a local diner with the twin spiker, since it was the first time in a long time that he was not attached to the hip by his blond sibling.

Alas, as he excused himself to take a quick stop to the restroom, where he finds your nearby hunched form seated on the floor. Books and notebooks were scattered on the bench of the empty corridor. It pops into his mind that the library now closes at four-thirty because apparently, Inarizaki’s only librarian is a month away from her maternity leave.

He would be delighted to throw a greeting in your direction. But to see your scrunched-up eyebrows and cute tongue popping out of your lips in concentration, Osamu decides to quietly leave you be. He goes to Aran to tell him that he’s going to put on some serving practice today. With his fingers desperately crossed behind his back, the horribly smitten lad wishes the third year would buy his excuse and get on with it.

Aran’s raised eyebrow obviously showed that didn’t buy a single thing about it… but the captain did. It was more common to see Atsumu putting on extra work compared to Osamu, but whatever questions the ace had in mind, he, fortunately, stayed silent about it.

“I don’t see a problem with a lil’ more practice.” Kita bids him goodbye. “Just make sure 'yah clean up the gym like how I do it.”

Osamu tried not to sound giddy, he really did. “Roger that.”

He plans on wooing you somehow or at least try taking you home. It wasn’t hard to clean the gym alone, and he hopes to accidentally bump into you on the way out of the main building. He just forgot to calculate how strong the rain was going to be, and his brother, in all his stupid ass, just had to steal the spiker's umbrella from him.

Your voice in the rain breaks him out of his trance. “Shouldn’t you be with Atsumu or something?“

"Didn’t 'yah hear? He’s in Tokyo for the youth training camp.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Heard he’s finally gonna be a hotshot or somethin’.”

“Well…” You tuck your chin on your arm that rests on your knee. Hopeful that the rainy night sky shields your bashfulness from the gray-haired twin. “… I think you deserve a seat on that team too.”

Osamu feels his heart leaping somewhere in his throat. It takes every fiber of his being not to turn red at what you said. “Oh, no, no. I’m not all up for that.”

“So I heard. You’re gonna be a chef, aren’t you?”

“Who told 'yah that?” His eyebrows raise in surprise. Everyone on the team swore they wouldn’t let the Atsumu vs Osamu fiasco leave the gym doors. It was a personal fight, after all, Suna knew that much.

You chuckle. “No one. But you gotta make sure Suna doesn’t talk to Aran on the phone too loudly. I can hear him all the way from the second floor.”

“I’m gonna kill that guy.”

“I know you will. But hey, don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“It’s not like it needs sealin’ anyways. 'Tsumu already knows.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “It’s why I came to 'yer class all bruised up a few weeks ago.”

You blink slowly at him, finally connecting the dots as to why he came to Suna on that one lunch break with a bruised lip and subtle black eye. You can quite remember that despite how beaten up he looks, Osamu smugly tells the middle blocker that he landed more punches on his brother. “He’s kind of a dickhead for doing that.”

“I mean… I’m wrong too, 'yah know? Should’ve told him what I felt little by little instead of dumping it all up his ass that I’m takin’ a totally different career path.” He stretches his legs in front of him, the tips of his outdoor shoes getting a little wet from the rain. “Don’t tell anyone I told ‘yah this. But 'Tsumu used to keep a notebook of plans he wants us to achieve as volleyball players. He even wrote there he wants a niece by age twenty-seven!”

“Well to be very honest, it seems more plausible that he’s the one out of the two of you to accidentally knock someone.”

Osamu laughs, suddenly remembering how you had always stereotyped his twin brother as a wild child.

Silence blankets the both of you, and Osamu sees you pull out your phone after two short rings that cut through the pitter-patter of the rain.

“Hey, Mom…” You pass a sheepish smile to the spiker, and he only nods in understanding. “…. yeah, yeah, I’m stuck in the rain…. yep. Mhm… I don’t think the rain’s gonna stay until Dad finishes overtime….”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Not when the gods have blessed him with the luxury of having you all to himself for the first time. You don’t notice his soft gaze, but when you turn to look at him, you feel like you’re going to vomit your heart out… positively.

You watch him raise his eyebrows as you continue listening to your mom. Thank goodness there’s no other soul to witness two people blatantly staring at each other.

“Yeah. The rain’s getting mellow now. Yes, I’m with someone I trust… it’s a friend. Yes, it’s a dude…. no, it’s not Rin.” You blink at Osamu twice, and he’s endeared by how shy your expression suddenly morphed into. “Yes, Mom, it’s him. No, we stay quiet about that. Yeah, I’ll see you soon, okay? Okay. Yeah, no need to tell Dad. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a smug smile threatening to appear on Osamu’s face. He’s proud to know that you consider him someone you feel safe with. And he’s giddy with the idea that you talk about him with your mom. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he’s building the confidence in asking you out as each minute passes.

You bid your mother a short goodbye, and you suddenly feel embarrassed for staring at Osamu for too long. Let’s not disregard the fact that he was staring at you for longer.

“Hey,” Osamu finally says. When you turn your head to look at him again, it takes every bit of his wit not to kiss you right then and there. “I think the rain’s not stoppin’ soon. Wanna make a break for it?”

You scoff at his suggestion. “And have you go to the gym tomorrow half-dead with a tissue up your nose? Not a chance. Your team will kill me.”

“C’mon! The rain’s not that bad!”

“It’s literally three degrees Celcius out here!”

“It’s either we run or our moms are gonna beat our asses!”

First of all, it’s your parents’ fault for choosing to get a house instead of a car or apartment when you moved to Kyoto, cutting your chances of finding a way home when your house is six bus stops and one bus change away from the campus. Second, your mom will not shut up if she finds out you’re taken home late with the boy you wouldn’t shut up to her about. Lastly, your dad will have a heart attack if he finds out you actually are still not home on the day he was told to do overtime at work.

You chew at your bottom lip in contemplation, and you don’t notice Osamu’s eyes immediately darting back to the rain before him. “We’re both gonna die, Miya.”

To begin, it was entirely Atsumu’s fault for stealing his twin’s beloved umbrella in the middle of a rainy winter season. Second, his mom would interrogate him before letting him in the house if she finds out her son took someone home in the late-night, winter rain. Finally, Kita’s gonna kill him if he goes to school sick right after he was expected to improve on his serves.

“We die today, or we die tomorrow. It’s ‘yer choice to make.” Osamu’s already standing up, his hand outstretched to you.

“Fine.”

On the way home, the rain doesn’t stop. But that isn’t the problem. The problem is how you’re going to maintain your composure, because while he lives on the other side of downtown, Osamu insisted he’d take you home. All, six stops and one bus change. You argue that his house is only a few blocks from the second stop, and he tells you it’s totally fine.

You’re now walking home with him after the long bus ride. Your hair is only partially wet from the rain because the spiker used his gym bag to shield you. The uniform and winter coat feel heavy on you, but you reckon that this night did not feel bad. Not when you’ve spent the entirety of it laughing and chattering with Osamu.

His voice stops when he feels the rain going heavier with each drop. He musters all the bravery he has and takes your hand in his.

“Miya, wha-”

“Careful. We’re gonna run and it’s gonna be slippery.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu #haikyuu #polaris.piece #banner photo: gunma

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polarisine · 14 days ago

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LOSING; FINDING

₊˚⊹ ᰔ haikyuu!. miya osamu x reader ₊˚⊹ ᰔ people are people. they change, they grow, they come, and they go. alongside you, like drifted wood, there’s another person you haven’t seen in a long time. miya osamu thinks there shouldn’t be this much feeling left in forgotten friendships, yet here you both are… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ navi. ask. ۶ৎ ao3. a crosspost from 20220727

There’s a certain bite to the winter cold that you can’t quite put your finger on. Snow is nowhere to be found, yet you feel colder than you should beneath the layers you have on.

Japan doesn’t necessarily celebrate Christmas the same way the world does, and by the time 10:00 pm strikes the clock, every street is swept clean of people, stalls, and life. Even the decorations are taken down, one by one. The avenue lost the spark of festivities it had just a few minutes ago.

Save for one little building in the middle of the block. In contrast to the cold night, this one glowed a warm yellow. From afar you can find a car, two motorcycles, and some bicycles parked beside it. There is no open window or welcoming door to give anyone the idea that the shop is closed in the meantime.

But there is the faint smell of food and warm chocolate wafting through the air. Before you can even find your feet near the threshold, you swore there’s a telltale sign that the place is the only thing alive tonight.

It’s the arrival of Miya Osamu that catches you slightly off-guard. Yet you don’t show it. He parks his small delivery bicycle near the front, and by the time he lifted the box in his arms, your eyes meet for the first time in a long time.

“Hey, it’s been long.” He speaks first, and your eyes find the warm mist in his breath like an addictive drug.

Your gloved hands reluctantly leave your pockets. You try to lace your voice with some enthusiasm, it’s been ages since you’ve seen him. “Hello! I was just about to go in.” You note that Osamu has gotten bigger… broader. And even if he had a whole career and business on his shoulders, there’s never a sign of aging nor displeasure on his face. “Do you need help with that?”

“Nah, I can handle these.” He adjusts his hold on the box of what seems to be fresh edamame. “I just need help with the front door. Can’t really go through the back since it was locked before closing.”

There’s a sudden ache gnawing in the crevices of your heart. You realize you’re probably frowning the whole time, so you give him a soft smile and hold the door open for him. “Sure.”

A chime in the bell signals both your arrival and a wave of nostalgia hits you when familiar faces started peering at the shop entrance.

“Samu, ‘ya jackass!” A similarly bigger and broader Atsumu pops from behind the cash register. “If I’d known yer gonna take yer time wooing our dear manager outside the cold instead of getting ingredients then I would have said no in watching the shop!”

“Shut yer trap, Tsumu!” Osamu hollers back.

You’re thankful that whatever blush creeps to your cheeks can always be blamed for the biting cold. There’s more relief and fondness in your heart when you realize the bickering has stayed more or less the same as it was all those years ago.

The owner of Onigiri Miya looks down, at your much smaller form, and he shares an awkward, apologetic smile with you. “Sorry about him. You know how loud he can be.”

A chuckle leaves your lips, some things truly never change. “Yeah, yeah. Haven’t been back in a while but it’s easy to cancel his voice out every time he screams.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

There’s a certain warmth that spreads throughout the restaurant. A soft chatter drowns out any silence, yet leaves a small noise that brings more comfort than annoyance.

Atsumu, Suna, and Ginjima sit at a booth by the front, while the rest of the members of Inarizaki volleyball team are dispersed at their own tables.

You find purchase the only available seat, on the counter between Kita and Aran.

And yes, right in front of Osamu, as he mans the counter and prepares onigiri for the team.

“Hi, Captain.” You give a small pat on Kita’s shoulder, and you turn to give Aran a small punch on the arm, “Hi, Aran.”

“Hey, we didn’t think you’d come.” Kita chirps beside you.

He takes a sip from his bottle of beer, and you note his tanned skin and lean arms beneath his sleeves. All those fieldwork has paid off, you definitely understand all the people the team has been talking about that travel specifically to Kyoto, in hopes of finding the elusive and dashing rice farmer.

“It’s the holidays. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You tuck your hair behind your ear out of habit, and at the same time, Osamu slides a cup of iced water in front of you.

And he knows just the way you like it. Three cubes of ice, no more, no less.

Before your mouth could even form a word of thanks, he slides a plate of onigiri across the counter… to you.

An ache of wanting comes over your being. Your eyes trace the onigiri made for you. Salmon, egg, and edamame. Again, he remembers.

As you turn your head to quickly scan the room, you find every other person holding their own onigiri, yet not one of those ever had the bright green shade of edamame. Only yours.

Osamu catches your attention, and a brief wave of emotion crosses his eyes as you meet them. But it comes just as it goes, and he only gives you a smug smile. Because he knows he remembers everything about you correctly.

When you take a bite of the sweet, warm, onigiri, your lips utter the words you have been meaning to say to him for years. “Thank you, Samu.”

The Christmas reunion goes by without a hitch, and as each member file out one by one, you find yourself left alone with Osamu at the shop.

You were about brave the cold winds once again. But Osamu insisted he’d take you home.

He is quite sure that’s all this day would end up to be. A reunion, a warm gathering.

But you did come, and somehow all plans of keeping this day silent and under wraps are now thrown out of the window.

And in the freezing breeze of a quiet night in Kyoto, Japan, Miya Osamu walks you home.

“How’s yer new job workin’ out for ‘ya?” Osamu quips before he could stop himself. How are you doing with the life you chose over us? He truly wants to ask. But then again, he isn’t sure if there was even an “us” in the first place.

“It’s… it’s doing well. It’s paying great actually.” You walk a little closer to him, desperate to drink whatever warmth his tall frame gave off. “It’s just weird. I’ve finally settled down but I haven’t made many friends yet.” A little alright, physically, but it’s been lonely without you.

“I-uhh… wanted to ask.” Osamu walks straight, but his eyes follow both your feet, somewhat walking in unison, somewhat walking in hesitance. “If… ya wanted to try again…”

Your heart jumps at the thought, and Osamu walks a little closer to you this time. If you move your arm out of your body, you’d probably touch him.

But there are no surprises. No fear of the unknown. Only relief, because you both know that life seemed to go a little haywire ever since you both left each other.

Osamu speaks again, desperate to cling to the ring of his voice than settle in the soft mist leaving your lips. “Or… we can start over if ya don’t want to pick up where we left off.”

And you agree, only silently nodding and turning to face him. You pull him by his beltloop and give him a soft kiss right on his reddened cheek. “It’s okay, Samu. We can start over.”

There’s a shy smile that grazes Osamu’s mouth, and it grows a little bigger when he thinks of the feel of your warm lips on his cold cheek.

In the glowing moonlight of cold, cold Kyoto, the elderly will probably feel scandalized by seeing two people kiss silly beneath the naked trees. But they ought to understand that anyone in the cold deserves to feel the heat of a fire.

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyu #haikyuu #polaris.piece #banner photo: koiwa

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