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Suna always took longer to get his shoes off than the twins. When entering the Miya home, Osamu and Atsumu would just toss them off and drop everything in their hands, rushing inside while bickering as if they were still high schoolers. Suna wasn’t too keen on wasting that much energy just to choose a better seat at the table.
He dragged his socked feet across the floor, bag still slung over his shoulder, seizing the last moments of peace before he reached the Miyans. He halted in front of the little table in the hallway as he sometimes did. It was bursting with photographs of relatives and, of course, the twins. Suna quite liked to sneak there to check whether there were any new - embarrassing - pictures.
He ignored all the faces he didn’t know, whose photos were pushed to the back anyways, and focused on the twins’. It was the vast majority, and Suna had already analysed them all for blackmail years ago.
There were a few more recent ones, though. Like the one with the three of them, taken after a match, showing Atsumu with his arm around Suna’s shoulders, the MSBY’s black jersey clashing against the EJP Raijin’s yellow, and Osamu on Suna’s other side, the three of them proudly standing in front of the Onigiri Miya logo. Suna didn’t even remember who had taken the picture. He had only ever seen it at Miya-san’s little shrine of photographs and had never given it much thought. He assumed it was just because the twins were smiling so widely and Suna, by chance, was there in the middle not looking too bad.
But now, right beside it, there was another. One with just him. Suna blinked repeatedly, staring at the photograph-Suna, in the Japanese National Team’s uniform, pointing at his number 20 with the biggest smile on his face. He was all teeth, all not Suna-like, but definitely happy. That one had not been there the last time for sure.
Meanwhile, there was swearing happening somewhere in the kitchen and the twins’ Ma shouting. The ruckus faded gradually until some peace was achieved as they probably hugged it out. There was silence for one minute in the Miyas’ house, and then, “Where’s Rintarou-kun?”
Well, Rintarou-kun was currently frozen in her living room.
He heard some response and then some feet shuffling closer.
“There ya are.”
It was Miya-san only, poking her head out the door, a big warm smile upon her face. Suna didn’t know if he would prefer to be found and dragged by one of the menaces instead.
Yet, he managed to meet her gaze, and whatever she saw in his face made the big grin falter.
“Is somethin’ wrong?”
“No,” he rushed to answer, but it came out strangled. Suna cleared his throat, but instead of repeating or explaining himself, he went for a bow. Just a quick greeting, to show some resemblance of respect. He only did that sometimes; he tended to forget, with all the times he had been at their house.
As usual, Miya-san waved her hand in dismissal. “C’mon, leave that.”
So, Suna only nodded, taking one last glance at the picture. However, he was caught. Miya-san walked up to his side and followed his line of sight.
“Oh, that.” It sounded so warm, loving even, if that was possible from a woman that was supposed to be just a level above stranger. “I really liked that photo. Osamu sent it to me.”
“Why...” The words were there, so why not just say them? “Why do you have it here?”
Suna finally looked over, catching her with her head tilted in curiosity.
“What d’ya mean?”
“I’m...”
His parents only had a couple of photos from when he and his sister were little, all arranged backgrounds and chosen clothes, barely smiling, too pristine and strategically put. Nothing like this. Nothing that felt real.
“It’s simple, Rintarou,” she answered after a beat, lowering her voice, his name coming out as softly as the expression on her face. “Because ya look so happy there.”
She laid a hand on his shoulder and pretended not to notice every twitch of his face. Just like last time he had come to her house.
“And I’m really proud of ya, ya know?”
Suna looked away.
“Rintarou-kun! It’s so good to see ya!”
“Miya-san,” Suna greeted with a smile when the door for the Miyas’ house opened. “I hope I’m not intruding. I had a match in Hyogo, so...”
“Don’t mind, I was just doin’ some cleanin’. C’mon in. D’ya have time?”
Suna stepped inside, taking off his shoes. “The whole afternoon, actually.”
“Oh, that’s good! How was the game?” she asked as she closed the door.
“We won in straight sets.”
Miya-san smiled widely. “I know ya would. Osamu told me ya had the game here and ya might drop by, but I didn’t get to watch it.”
“That’s fine.” How did Osamu even know he was planning on passing by? Suna himself had only decided the night before. After all, he used to pop over at their house whenever he had a match in Hyogo, but there had always been one of the twins present. This detour just to see Miya-san wasn’t supposed to be considered as normal as the Miyas were pretending to.
“Well, I’ll finish what I was doin’ upstairs, ‘kay? Ya have food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
He was. And he was not going to say no to a Miya’s cooking. (Yes, even Atsumu was a far better cook than him, not that he would ever admit that to the dyed blond’s face.)
So, after nodding, he set his stuff down and walked up to the kitchen on his own.
He didn’t have to search too far to find what he wanted. With the twins out of town, the fridge was way too organized.
Suna opened the container, almost drooling at the sight. That moment, Miya-san appeared, on her way to fetch something.
“I didn’t even thank you for the food,” Suna rushed to add, apologetic.
Miya-san dismissed it. “It’s fine. That’s one of yer favourites, right?”
Suna blinked at her. Then, he stared down at the food in his hands in a new perspective.
“Sorry, it isn’t hot. I didn’t know when ya were comin’, so I just made extra the other day.”
On purpose? Suna didn’t ask. He didn’t move as Miya-san hummed and padded away. He heard her whistling from the other room, a habit that she shared with Atsumu.
Suna sat down on the table, still staring. He hadn’t even warned he was coming. She couldn’t be sure he was visiting. But still, just in case, she had...
He wasn’t her family.
Suna only noticed the sound of steps when they stopped. He wiped his eyes quickly.
Still, he didn’t have it in him to turn around and pretend all this meant nothing.
Miya-san approached, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“C’mon, don’t act so embarrassed,” she whispered.
Miya-san kissed the top of his head the same way she did to Atsumu and Osamu and left him alone in her kitchen for a while.
“Miya-san—”
“Where the fuck’s Suna?” came from the kitchen.
It didn’t matter how kind the twins’ mother could be, when it came to her own sons, she responded quickly, loudly and efficiently.
“Oi! Language! Ya might be adults now, but I won’t tolerate that language in my house,” she shouted back, way too close to Suna’s ear.
The response came in a similar volume. “Ya were the one that taught it to us.”
“Tsumu, wouldja shuddup? Wanna die today?”
Miya-san sighed in exasperation, taking her hand off Suna’s shoulder and walking away. After a couple of steps, though, she halted. Turned around to look at Suna. Smiled at him, as if she hadn’t just been readying herself for war.
“Ya know you’re family, right? If ya want.”
Crap, he might really cry. He hadn’t cried in ages. He was an adult, a man, an older brother that had witnessed way too much and had to appear tough to his little sister. This family of idiots had shifted everything.
“Now,” she added, her attention elsewhere, giving Suna some space, “since you’re family too, you’re helpin’ me shuttin’ these two up. I swear, not even five minutes in this house, and they’re already messin’ around too much.”
A sound of something breaking in the kitchen confirmed it.
Suna felt his lips quirk up. He whipped out his phone.
“I have enough blackmail to shut them up for the whole weekend if you want.”
The smile that took hold of Miya-san’s face was dangerous. “Perfect. That’s why I like ya.”