#banner photo: koiwa

[polarisine]

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.

© polarisine 2025. do not plagiarize, translate, nor repost. all works are my own.