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lost days
miya atsumu & miya osamu // ~2k
> piece for the Miya Twins Zine; Pre-Canon, middle school era.
The heat beats down on their backs as they make the trip home, finished with school for the day. It’s out of place during this season that’s supposed to slowly transition from a freezing winter to a cool spring, but it’s there nonetheless. Osamu peels off his blazer and bundles it up into something small while Atsumu loosens his tie. They pass by the local corner store and Osamu sees a brother and his younger sister emerge with popsicles in their hands. Distantly, he can hear the younger sister needle her brother for a piggyback ride, ignoring the half-hearted protests that he can’t keep on doing it forever. Osamu wants to get something cold to eat or drink, but Atsumu refuses because it’s going to eat up the time they supposedly don’t have.
“I was serious ‘bout needin’ your help for somethin’. Don’t back out on me now.”
Osamu rolls his eyes. “Whatever. This better be worth it.”
They can make out their house from a distance. A few minutes later, they step onto the front lawn. Osamu is about to follow Atsumu to the front porch when the latter abruptly stops and turns around, saying, “You’re gonna teach me how to bike.”
“I don’t remember being related to a guy who can’t even bike,” Osamu grumbles, but the serious expression on Atsumu’s face doesn’t change. “You’re fifteen. What the fuck have you been doing all this time? How come I never knew?”
Atsumu scowls. “Just ‘cause I spend so much time with you doesn’t mean we know every little thing ‘bout one another.” He straightens up. “And it’s not like I don’t know anythin’, but I don’t have everythin’ nailed down, so you gotta spot me.”
Demanding, Osamu thinks, but it’s not like he’s going to refuse because he doesn’t have much of a reason to. With the school year gradually coming to an end and graduation looming over them, there isn’t much to do.
In the garage are two bikes with rear carriers that sit idly in the back, both of them marginally old but one of them a bit worse for wear than the other. Osamu knows his has the red handle because he’d painted it that way just so he’d know not to use Atsumu’s, but when he looks back to his memories of being ten and dragging the bike outside, he realizes that Atsumu never joined him in the first place, giving a plethora of other reasons why didn’t have the time to do it up until his parents forgot about nagging him to make use of what they’d given the twins. At the time, Osamu didn’t really care, too engrossed with trying to learn from his dad quickly enough so he could do it himself, to prove that he could be independent.
Osamu brushes his fingers against the handle of the bicycle and dust clings to his fingertips. Atsumu is busy dislodging his own bike from all the heavy objects that they can barely make out in the dark that have trapped them against the wall. When Osamu thinks about it, there are a lot of things he never thought to ask Atsumu, had never been curious enough to.
The sun is still bright and the air is stiflingly humid when they leave the garage with only Atsumu’s bike in tow, but they’re going to head down the sidewalks close to the riverbanks after descending the slope, a route they’d just gone through in order to get home, and there should be enough breeze for Osamu to get over the sweltering heat. On a mid-afternoon weekday, there is almost no one in sight. It’s like they’re the only two people in this town.
“Where’d the sudden interest come from?” Osamu asks by the time they reach the riverbank area.
“They say it’s a good workout for your thighs,” Atsumu says. “But it’s mostly ‘cause of my Gym teacher. I saw him while you were in the Guidance Office earlier after class. He said I needed to pick up the pace if I wanted to get a good grade for the final. It shouldn’t be that hard anyway. When Yukimura-sensei was holdin’ the back of the bike, I could do it.” That’s because takin’ off is the problem. Osamu thinks. “Hey, why’d you need to go to the Guidance Office anyway?”
It was for a career talk, something Osamu didn’t find necessary considering that he was about to enter high school. Are you plannin’ on going pro like your brother? ‘Cause he said you would, his counselor asked after sitting him down. When he said that, Osamu thought he could hear his brother yelling something down the hall even though he left him downstairs to find something else to do while waiting.
“Nothin’ important.” Because there are also things Atsumu doesn’t know about him either. Osamu doesn’t think it’s a conversation they’re ready to have anyway. He knows the expectation Atsumu holds for him, standing by his side as they get handed gold medals and matching jerseys with their names printed on the back. That’s the dream, he once told his brother during a quiet, solemn night. Osamu simply pretended to be asleep, unsure of what to say.
Balance and momentum are what’s essential to being able to bike, and Atsumu hadn’t been lying when he said it wasn't his first time, because he knows this much. It doesn’t make him any less hesitant to start anything though, and this is probably one of the few times Osamu has ever seen Atsumu being anything remotely close to scared.
“Baby,” Osamu mocks, before holding the rear carrier. “There, you can’t fall now.”
“Fuck,” Atsumu swears. “Hey, you’ll tell me when you let go, right?”
“Sure.” Then, without a warning, he starts to push and walk forward at a steady pace, slowly gaining more and more speed as Atsumu is forced to pedal to maintain the momentum his brother is giving him. Atsumu startles, but it doesn’t take long before he goes along with it.
“Stop!” Atsumu suddenly yells, and Osamu does. He lets go and his brother sets his foot down to balance himself. Atsumu pants, looking winded. “Okay. Let’s go again.”
The afternoon is spent like this, a gradual build of letting Atsumu settle comfortably into the task; Osamu pushing him to the first step he needs to take and supporting him so he won’t falter. His arms start to feel strained from repeatedly exerting his muscles to carry Atsumu’s weight, and all the things Atsumu yells out in alarm start to become incoherent nonsense to Osamu’s ears that he greets with the same amount of care as hearing birds chirping from a distance every single morning—noise, but natural nonetheless, like to not hear it would mean something was wrong with the world.
There are worse ways he can spend the day, worse things he can do to dwell in the misplaced weather. But he can feel himself growing tired and unable to keep up with Atsumu’s unwavering enthusiasm and determination, no matter how vaguely admirable it objectively is when biking is one of those things Osamu himself used to complain about before. Their father had only met his complaints with amusement, not taking him seriously and instead telling him that they keep on doing it until he could do it alone.
“I can’t keep on doing this forever, y’know,” Osamu says, after what feels like the fifteenth time Atsumu insists on going again. “And you’re stupid if you think you can accomplish all this in one afternoon.”
“C’mon,” Atsumu says. “One last push and then I’ll do it.”
“Stop assumin’ that I’ll always do whatcha want,” Osamu retorts, but what comes to mind isn’t what they’re doing right now, but his conversation with his counselor a few hours earlier.
Are you plannin’ on going pro like your brother? ‘Cause he said you would. It annoyed Osamu, hearing that, Atsumu making decisions for him, assuming that just because he wanted something Osamu would just go along with it. It’s okay for small stuff like this—learning to bike during a mundane afternoon. But the future isn’t something that can be condensed into a few hours that mean nothing a day later. Osamu has never known a world without Atsumu by his side, but it doesn’t mean he’s never thought of one beyond it, doesn’t mean he’s never indulged in the possibility and found himself wanting.
He’s fifteen and doesn't know much about life, but he knows he can’t keep sharing it with Atsumu forever. When Atsumu told him in the dead of night, voice vulnerable but full of certainty, that’s the dream, Osamu said nothing. When his counselor asked, Osamu replied, I’m not followin’ ‘Tsumu. And he meant it, but his counselor had given him a sad look anyway, like he believed him but it was more complicated than just accepting his answer.
“And yet, here you are anyway.” Atsumu grins. Osamu narrows his eyes, aware that Atsumu is just trying to provoke him, but he pushes him roughly anyway, putting in more strength than he had for all the other times. Atsumu lets out a startled yelp but bikes, this time a little more dauntless than he’d been previously. Osamu can feel the wind hit his face and cool him down, and even though he’s still holding onto the rear carrier, it no longer feels like he’s doing the brunt of the work, single handedly carrying his brother.
Understanding what it means, he lets go.
“Holy shit, ‘Samu!” Atsumu yells, pedaling ahead and steadily without any support. Osamu’s final push, increasing the momentum, works in Atsumu’s favor. “I’m doing it!”
Clarity washes over Osamu then, the thought of, you can. You can do it. You don’t need me anymore, stupid. The thought is both relieving and terrifying, the idea of someday being able to walk a different path but no longer knowing if his brother is taking the right steps. For a moment, Osamu is left frozen until Atsumu shouts, not looking back but still calling for his attention,“‘Samu, c'mere! I dunno how long I can do this! Help me!”
I can’t keep on doing this forever, y’know, Osamu had said. His mind drifts back to the corner store and the siblings there: the sister who asked her brother for something, and the brother, who pointed out that he couldn’t keep on giving into what she wants but doing it anyway. An innocent conversation, but one that had enough weight to stay in Osamu’s memory.
Maybe it’s because he understands. Maybe it’s because he’s the same.
In a world that exists outside of Atsumu, there is more that Osamu can live for besides chasing after him. In a world that exists outside of his brother, there is more that Osamu can live for that doesn’t involve walking down the same road as him. But he’s fifteen and knowing what he wants doesn’t mean he has to chase after it immediately. He can’t support Atsumu forever, but until that moment comes, it doesn’t mean he has to stop. He doesn’t want to. Not yet anyway.
“‘Samu!” Atsumu calls out.
Osamu’s feet start to move and he runs after him, trying to narrow the distance. He feels light and free, like there’s nothing weighing him down.
> piece for the Miya Twins Zine; Pre-Canon, middle school era.
The heat beats down on their backs as they make the trip home, finished with school for the day. It’s out of place during this season that’s supposed to slowly transition from a freezing winter to a cool spring, but it’s there nonetheless. Osamu peels off his blazer and bundles it up into something small while Atsumu loosens his tie. They pass by the local corner store and Osamu sees a brother and his younger sister emerge with popsicles in their hands. Distantly, he can hear the younger sister needle her brother for a piggyback ride, ignoring the half-hearted protests that he can’t keep on doing it forever. Osamu wants to get something cold to eat or drink, but Atsumu refuses because it’s going to eat up the time they supposedly don’t have.
“I was serious ‘bout needin’ your help for somethin’. Don’t back out on me now.”
Osamu rolls his eyes. “Whatever. This better be worth it.”
They can make out their house from a distance. A few minutes later, they step onto the front lawn. Osamu is about to follow Atsumu to the front porch when the latter abruptly stops and turns around, saying, “You’re gonna teach me how to bike.”
“I don’t remember being related to a guy who can’t even bike,” Osamu grumbles, but the serious expression on Atsumu’s face doesn’t change. “You’re fifteen. What the fuck have you been doing all this time? How come I never knew?”
Atsumu scowls. “Just ‘cause I spend so much time with you doesn’t mean we know every little thing ‘bout one another.” He straightens up. “And it’s not like I don’t know anythin’, but I don’t have everythin’ nailed down, so you gotta spot me.”
Demanding, Osamu thinks, but it’s not like he’s going to refuse because he doesn’t have much of a reason to. With the school year gradually coming to an end and graduation looming over them, there isn’t much to do.
In the garage are two bikes with rear carriers that sit idly in the back, both of them marginally old but one of them a bit worse for wear than the other. Osamu knows his has the red handle because he’d painted it that way just so he’d know not to use Atsumu’s, but when he looks back to his memories of being ten and dragging the bike outside, he realizes that Atsumu never joined him in the first place, giving a plethora of other reasons why didn’t have the time to do it up until his parents forgot about nagging him to make use of what they’d given the twins. At the time, Osamu didn’t really care, too engrossed with trying to learn from his dad quickly enough so he could do it himself, to prove that he could be independent.
Osamu brushes his fingers against the handle of the bicycle and dust clings to his fingertips. Atsumu is busy dislodging his own bike from all the heavy objects that they can barely make out in the dark that have trapped them against the wall. When Osamu thinks about it, there are a lot of things he never thought to ask Atsumu, had never been curious enough to.
The sun is still bright and the air is stiflingly humid when they leave the garage with only Atsumu’s bike in tow, but they’re going to head down the sidewalks close to the riverbanks after descending the slope, a route they’d just gone through in order to get home, and there should be enough breeze for Osamu to get over the sweltering heat. On a mid-afternoon weekday, there is almost no one in sight. It’s like they’re the only two people in this town.
“Where’d the sudden interest come from?” Osamu asks by the time they reach the riverbank area.
“They say it’s a good workout for your thighs,” Atsumu says. “But it’s mostly ‘cause of my Gym teacher. I saw him while you were in the Guidance Office earlier after class. He said I needed to pick up the pace if I wanted to get a good grade for the final. It shouldn’t be that hard anyway. When Yukimura-sensei was holdin’ the back of the bike, I could do it.” That’s because takin’ off is the problem. Osamu thinks. “Hey, why’d you need to go to the Guidance Office anyway?”
It was for a career talk, something Osamu didn’t find necessary considering that he was about to enter high school. Are you plannin’ on going pro like your brother? ‘Cause he said you would, his counselor asked after sitting him down. When he said that, Osamu thought he could hear his brother yelling something down the hall even though he left him downstairs to find something else to do while waiting.
“Nothin’ important.” Because there are also things Atsumu doesn’t know about him either. Osamu doesn’t think it’s a conversation they’re ready to have anyway. He knows the expectation Atsumu holds for him, standing by his side as they get handed gold medals and matching jerseys with their names printed on the back. That’s the dream, he once told his brother during a quiet, solemn night. Osamu simply pretended to be asleep, unsure of what to say.
Balance and momentum are what’s essential to being able to bike, and Atsumu hadn’t been lying when he said it wasn't his first time, because he knows this much. It doesn’t make him any less hesitant to start anything though, and this is probably one of the few times Osamu has ever seen Atsumu being anything remotely close to scared.
“Baby,” Osamu mocks, before holding the rear carrier. “There, you can’t fall now.”
“Fuck,” Atsumu swears. “Hey, you’ll tell me when you let go, right?”
“Sure.” Then, without a warning, he starts to push and walk forward at a steady pace, slowly gaining more and more speed as Atsumu is forced to pedal to maintain the momentum his brother is giving him. Atsumu startles, but it doesn’t take long before he goes along with it.
“Stop!” Atsumu suddenly yells, and Osamu does. He lets go and his brother sets his foot down to balance himself. Atsumu pants, looking winded. “Okay. Let’s go again.”
The afternoon is spent like this, a gradual build of letting Atsumu settle comfortably into the task; Osamu pushing him to the first step he needs to take and supporting him so he won’t falter. His arms start to feel strained from repeatedly exerting his muscles to carry Atsumu’s weight, and all the things Atsumu yells out in alarm start to become incoherent nonsense to Osamu’s ears that he greets with the same amount of care as hearing birds chirping from a distance every single morning—noise, but natural nonetheless, like to not hear it would mean something was wrong with the world.
There are worse ways he can spend the day, worse things he can do to dwell in the misplaced weather. But he can feel himself growing tired and unable to keep up with Atsumu’s unwavering enthusiasm and determination, no matter how vaguely admirable it objectively is when biking is one of those things Osamu himself used to complain about before. Their father had only met his complaints with amusement, not taking him seriously and instead telling him that they keep on doing it until he could do it alone.
“I can’t keep on doing this forever, y’know,” Osamu says, after what feels like the fifteenth time Atsumu insists on going again. “And you’re stupid if you think you can accomplish all this in one afternoon.”
“C’mon,” Atsumu says. “One last push and then I’ll do it.”
“Stop assumin’ that I’ll always do whatcha want,” Osamu retorts, but what comes to mind isn’t what they’re doing right now, but his conversation with his counselor a few hours earlier.
Are you plannin’ on going pro like your brother? ‘Cause he said you would. It annoyed Osamu, hearing that, Atsumu making decisions for him, assuming that just because he wanted something Osamu would just go along with it. It’s okay for small stuff like this—learning to bike during a mundane afternoon. But the future isn’t something that can be condensed into a few hours that mean nothing a day later. Osamu has never known a world without Atsumu by his side, but it doesn’t mean he’s never thought of one beyond it, doesn’t mean he’s never indulged in the possibility and found himself wanting.
He’s fifteen and doesn't know much about life, but he knows he can’t keep sharing it with Atsumu forever. When Atsumu told him in the dead of night, voice vulnerable but full of certainty, that’s the dream, Osamu said nothing. When his counselor asked, Osamu replied, I’m not followin’ ‘Tsumu. And he meant it, but his counselor had given him a sad look anyway, like he believed him but it was more complicated than just accepting his answer.
“And yet, here you are anyway.” Atsumu grins. Osamu narrows his eyes, aware that Atsumu is just trying to provoke him, but he pushes him roughly anyway, putting in more strength than he had for all the other times. Atsumu lets out a startled yelp but bikes, this time a little more dauntless than he’d been previously. Osamu can feel the wind hit his face and cool him down, and even though he’s still holding onto the rear carrier, it no longer feels like he’s doing the brunt of the work, single handedly carrying his brother.
Understanding what it means, he lets go.
“Holy shit, ‘Samu!” Atsumu yells, pedaling ahead and steadily without any support. Osamu’s final push, increasing the momentum, works in Atsumu’s favor. “I’m doing it!”
Clarity washes over Osamu then, the thought of, you can. You can do it. You don’t need me anymore, stupid. The thought is both relieving and terrifying, the idea of someday being able to walk a different path but no longer knowing if his brother is taking the right steps. For a moment, Osamu is left frozen until Atsumu shouts, not looking back but still calling for his attention,“‘Samu, c'mere! I dunno how long I can do this! Help me!”
I can’t keep on doing this forever, y’know, Osamu had said. His mind drifts back to the corner store and the siblings there: the sister who asked her brother for something, and the brother, who pointed out that he couldn’t keep on giving into what she wants but doing it anyway. An innocent conversation, but one that had enough weight to stay in Osamu’s memory.
Maybe it’s because he understands. Maybe it’s because he’s the same.
In a world that exists outside of Atsumu, there is more that Osamu can live for besides chasing after him. In a world that exists outside of his brother, there is more that Osamu can live for that doesn’t involve walking down the same road as him. But he’s fifteen and knowing what he wants doesn’t mean he has to chase after it immediately. He can’t support Atsumu forever, but until that moment comes, it doesn’t mean he has to stop. He doesn’t want to. Not yet anyway.
“‘Samu!” Atsumu calls out.
Osamu’s feet start to move and he runs after him, trying to narrow the distance. He feels light and free, like there’s nothing weighing him down.