Chapter Text
Sakusa Kiyoomi was most definitely not Astumu’s soulmate.
If there had been any doubt before, sharing a suite with him for the past three days has definitely squashed that theory. Atsumu is pretty sure he shouldn’t want to strangle his soulmate about 80% of the time. And the feeling is definitely mutual. Plus, the elegant and overly formal way Sakusa writes his roommate-communication-post-its definitely doesn’t match his soulmate’s writing.
Which is a real shame, because Sakusa Kiyoomi is the most beautiful man Atsumu has ever seen. The desire to punch his perfect face every time he sneers when he gets a service ace first in a game does not make him any less attractive.
Honestly, Atsumu could’ve lived a little longer without the certainty of this knowledge. Sakusa is probably one of those “why would I be interested in someone if I know they’re not my soulmate” types anyway.
Atsumu sighed, looking at the note Sakusa had stuck to his bedroom door. In Sakusa’s neat handwriting, it said, “if you’re going to get up so early, be quieter when you shut the front door.” It was certainly a fair request, but it was also the last piece of evidence Atsumu needed to certify his theory.
“Back ta square one,” he muttered with a shrug, reaching for the post-its and scribbling his own note before his morning run. He stuck it to the kitchen counter, popped his earbuds in his ears, and carefully shut the door before setting off on his morning run.
Miya Atsumu. Miya. Atsumu. Miya-fucking-Atsumu was Sakusa’s soulmate???
Sakusa glared at the post-it note on the kitchen counter through sleepy half-lidded eyes. It was too early for this revelation, dawn light streaming through the windows as Sakusa frowned at the offending object.
“It’s a mistake,” Sakusa said, snatching the note from the counter to inspect it closer to his face.
It’s not a mistake. It’s Miya Atsumu. That’s his soulmate. This hurried scrawl confirms it.
Sakusa blinked a couple of times as if the action would make everything go away. When it did nothing, he grumbled and sat down on the small couch the two bedroom suite was furnished with. Slowly, and with great dread, he pulled up his gym shorts to expose his right inner thigh, holding the note next to the words etched into his skin. Perfect match.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, watching how each stroke and even the pen line weights matched the offending words on the note, and the small two word sentence he has spent every day since he turned 16 and it showed up on his skin hiding. At least it was in a fairly discrete spot. He knew people who had their soulmate’s first words to them written right on their hand, for everyone to see every time they meet them. He’d heard stories of people who have the words show up on their forehead, and how hard they would have to try and hide them to keep some semblance of privacy.
But Sakusa’s had always been in a very private place to begin with, and he had always been thankful for that. Even more so after recently joining the Black Jackals and hearing stories from the other players about how many fans try to pass themselves off as their soulmate. Bokuto did a photoshoot for a workout magazine that showed his soulmate tattoo over his heart, and even though he and Akaashi are very publicly practically married and definitely soulmates, there’s always at least one fan that comes up and hurriedly says “I am Akaashi Keiji, from Mori Middle School” before anything else gets said. Bokuto has gotten used to handling these interactions. You’d think such an obviously identifying first sentence would deter people, but they still try.
So Sakusa kept his short soulmate mark to himself. He’d only told a handful of people about it, and two of those were because the person was about to definitely be in a position to see it clearly anyway, so it seemed like a better idea to just rip the bandaid off altogether.
The door lock started to turn and Sakusa hurriedly pulled his gym shorts back in place, hoping the annoyed look on his face would overpower the slight blush at almost being caught. Atsumu was still listening to his music as he walked in and neatly set his running shoes in their designated place.
“‘Mornin’, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu said, removing one earbud with a casual smile. “Did ya see my note?”
“Yes,” Sakusa said, waving it in his hand. “I am moving slower than usual this morning, so I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“Ah,” Atsumu said, stretching his arms up. His exercise shorts were shorter than Sakusa’s, but still long enough to cover the area that Sakusa now knew must contain his soulmate mark. “Don’t worry about it, then, I can make ‘em.” He crossed into the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink, pulling forward a blender. “Ya feelin’ ok, though? Yer not sick, are ya?”
“No,” Sakusa said in disdain. Atsumu put up his hands in a placating gesture.
“Just askin’,” he said with a grin. “Anyway, one mango protein smoothie comin’ up!”
“Thanks,” Sakusa muttered, sitting on the couch and watching Atsumu moving through their temporary kitchen for half a minute longer than necessary or appropriate. He got up, cleared his throat (“I’m not sick,” he reassured after Atsumu gave him a look), and walked back into his room, putting the small post-it note in between pages of his practice notebook. This was an issue for Future Sakusa. Far, far into the future Sakusa. Definitely not worth thinking about now, and he was going to stop thinking about it. Starting now. Right now.
He reread the note one last time - “Hiya Omi, if you’re making those breakfast smoothies today, could you also make me one for after my run? Thanks!”
Sakusa snapped the notebook shut with a scowl. This is how he finds out who his soulmate is? Other people have grand stories of first meetings and probably the distant sounds of angelic choirs singing, and he has a yellow post-it about breakfast.
Miya fucking Atsumu. And they had another seven days of this damn training camp where they have to share this suite before Sakusa can just go home and think this through by himself. Sakusa threw the notebook containing the offending post-it at the bottom of his bookbag and left his room.
Running has always helped clear Atsumu’s head. Something about blasting his every growing playlist, feeling the way his foot rolls over the ground with each step, and focusing on his breathing adds up to the perfect way to start his morning. It’s been his habit since middle school, and was one of the few times that Osamu was not right by his side. He’d claimed that running this early should be illegal, and Atsumu had jokingly muttered doubts about them being related at all.
So by the time Atsumu walked back into their suite, he was back to his usual self. So, it wasn’t Sakusa. He should probably be thankful, overall. He had not really thought through what he would do if it was, and now he doesn’t have to.
Meian probably planned this all out. The bastard. Atsumu usually rooms with Hinata, because they both like morning runs. But this was Sakusa's first training camp with the Black Jackals and Meian had fed him some line about "weren't you two friends in high school?" and "I don't want to inflict Hinata or Bokuto on him right off the bat" which seemed reasonable enough at the time (even though Sakusa and Atsumu were not, actually, friends at any point). Now Atsumu is thinking that Meian had hoped for Atsumu and Sakusa to work through the bitingly smug animosity they have for one another by forcing them to share living quarters for 10 days. They were either going to kill each other, find out they are soulmates, or get some decent rounds of hate-fucking, and Meian did not seem to care which one actually happened.
"Well, murder's probably a bit extreme," Atsumu mumbled to himself while turning on the blender. "I guess I should see if option three is on the table."
Of course, there was the fourth option. That nothing changes. Meian must have been pretty confident they can't make it 10 whole days and have that be the outcome. Atsumu honestly couldn't blame him for that one, even though it seems to now be statistically the most likely option.
So when Sakusa finally comes out of his room again and Atsumu slides him a cup full of mango smoothie, he decides that subtlety is probably the better course here.
"Hey, Omi? Can I ask ya a question?"
Sakusa's eyebrow quirks up in suspicion and he nods carefully.
"What do you think about the whole..soulmate mark….thing?" When Sakusa keeps giving him a skeptical look in silence, Atsumu runs a hand through his hair and babbles on. "I mean. Like. You're not one of those soulmate mark deniers, are ya? Or the kinda opposite idea of 'anyone else is cheatin''?"
"Are you asking me if I am a conspiracy theorist?" Sakusa said, taking a big drink of his smoothie.
"Nah, not like you give off a vibe or somesuch," Atsumu said quickly, taking a drink too. "Just, ya know, you've never really talked about it, even when we were at the youth camp and everyone was talkin' about it."
Sakusa frowned. "I just don't think it's other people's business."
"Oh, so, ya know who it is, then?"
Sakusa was mid-gulp when he coughed roughly in response, holding up a hand to Atsumu's briefly concerned face as he coughed a few more times before selling back down. He nodded slowly, still recovering.
Atsumu sighed. "Lucky."
"What?" Sakusa said a little hoarsely, taking a cautious sip.
"I just mean… it's hard when ya don't know, ya know?" Atsumu turned the big glass of smoothie in his hands. "Samu, he knew right away. It could only possibly be one person. And I thought…" Atsumu shook his head, dislodging the thought. "Anyway. I was just curious."
"So," Sakusa said cautiously, "you don't know who yours is?"
Another shake of the head, with a small smile. "Nah. My mark's not really identifiable. Not all of us are like Bokkun and got a first and last name right off the bat." Sakusa nodded slowly. "I don't talk about mine either. Don't need those kinds of fans making things even more confusing."
"You're very chatty this morning," Sakusa observed, but there was no bite to it. Atsumu shrugged.
"Well, everyone else on the team is already with their soulmate, so they don't really get it." Atsumu pushed off the counter, finishing his smoothie. "But I guess you don't gotta worry about this stuff anymore either, do ya?"
"Guess not," Sakusa said slowly.
"Like I said. Lucky." He turned to wash out his glass and set it to dry. "I'm gonna shower, and then head down to practice a bit early to get warmed up."
"Thanks for the smoothie."
"Yeah, ya can make me one tomorrow if you're feelin' better."
"I'm not sick."
Atsumu grinned placatingly. "Right. 'Course."
Atsumu doesn’t know.
Sakusa’s mind raced through the morning’s conversation on repeat as he walked slowly to practice.
Atsumu doesn’t know. But Sakusa does.
“This is…good?” he said cautiously to himself. He’d been trying to figure out the answer to that question ever since Atsumu left him alone to his thoughts. At the very least it gave him more time to process, which is definitely good. Unless Atsumu is lying…but why would he. “This is good,” he repeated, trying to convince himself.
Sakusa did what he always does when he feels out of his depth in a social situation. He texted Komori and promptly vowed to ignore the whole thing until he’s had a few days to think it through fully.
All he has to do is make it one more week rooming with Atsumu. Easy.