Osamu's holding his body tight. Extra, extra tight. At first glance, it may seem like poorly restrained anger, and Osamu's sort of counting on that, hoping it will make his teammates leave him be. If they think he's just mad, especially if he can pin it on Atsumu, then maybe no one will notice-
A voice cuts through the inner monologue Osamu's delivering while digging through his gym bag. Kita's voice, which cannot be ignored. And he isn't asking an easily evaded question, either.
"Nothing happened," Osamu says at length, teeth clenched. "'M fine. Everythin's fine. Be out for practice in a minute."
He can't change into his gym clothes until the club room empties, just in case there's a visible sign of his injury plastered across his back.
Osamu holds his breath for a moment as he considers how he's supposed to respond. It quickly becomes obvious he won't be able to shake Kita off, and with a heavy sigh, he decides he might as well stop hiding it.
He turns away from Kita and tugs his shirt off by the collar, wincing a little as it stretches out his back. When the shirt slides off, a giant bruise is uncovered in the middle right of his back, ugly mottled purple and green surrounded by red skin.
"I fell." He explains simply, barely more than a grunt.
Maybe Osamu's waiting for the chill of disappointment. Getting injured like this, with playoffs so close? It could be catastrophic for Inarizaki. The Twins will have another shot at Nationals. Others are not so lucky. Kita's not so lucky.
Instead, warmth settles on Osamu's shoulder. Kita gently pressing down.
Osamu realizes a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Hiding the injury from his twin, not to mention the rest of the team, has been wearing him down all day.
"It's just from a fall. The internet says it's not a big deal." He mumbles, but after he looks over his shoulder at Kita, he lets the arguments fall off his tongue.
"Guess I'd better just let them see, huh?" He concedes.
Touching isn't new. High-fives, back slaps, all of it comes in the heat of games. This is - Different. Not that gets registered, not now, but Kita flexes his hand as he heads for the door.
As though from a shock.
He's back in barely a minute with Coach Kurosu, Therapist Goda, and a pack of ice.
The coach and the team's physiologist prod at Osamu's back, tenderly feeling around the bruising and giving him an interrogation as to how he got it. Osamu confesses to a fall in the home ec room that morning, after an embarrassing slip. Goda is tight lipped as he insists that Osamu cannot be allowed to play on this for at least a week, and possibly longer.
"Will be back in time for Nationals?" Kurosu asks.
"I would say it's likely, as long as he takes his rest seriously. But the Youth Training Camp may be off the table."
Osamu bites his lip on a curse, mostly because cursing in front of Kita is worse than cursing in front of God.
Goda wraps a bandage around Osamu's torso, and sends him home with strict instructions for rest and recuperation. Then the adults go down to head up practice, leaving Osamu alone with Kita.
"God... I really blew it," Osamu mumbles, looking down at his feet in his shame and frustration.
"Accidents happen, Osamu. What matters is what you do now."
The physio was very direct in his instructions. No extra weight, not even books. Osamu needs help getting home. This is obvious. So when Kita hauls up both duffels, it's without a single grunt of protest.
"Let's go."
The team's out running. They'll be able to leave with the least amount of fuss.
Osamu's jaw drops at Kita picking up his bag. "Hey, no, you don't have to do that, Kita-san," he says quickly, reaching for his bag back. "I mean, I can still carry it. Or I can wait 'til after practice and make 'Tsumu do it."
To inconvenience Kita like that would be too much.
Being scolded by Kita is what Osamu had expected when he decided to come clean about his injury, but not because of him trying to absolve his upperclassman of having to take care of him. He gets a little bit defensive, as he would if the accusation of irresponsibility.
"'Tsumu wouldn't fight me over this," he grunts, because of course his twin wouldn't actually kick him while he was down, metaphorically speaking. Literally might be another story. "He'll be pissed, sure, but he'll help me get home just like any brother would. You don't have to go out of your way for me and miss practice, Kita-san."
"But this isn't out of my way. Not if I want to do it."
Simple as that. It's no more than Kita would do for anyone. This way, no one has to worry. (Of course, someone could ask why the worry matters. Why it's coming to a head, in this room, with this situation...)
"But you are still gonna miss practice," Osamu points out. "And you're the captain. How's that not out of your way when there's somewhere else you gotta be?"
Resisting the help makes sense, because Osamu already feels bad enough that he cost his team one of their players; taking Kita away too after he's gone and stupidly gotten himself hurt would just be too cruel.
"It's not even that bad. I deserve to wait for doing this to myself."
Which means Kita's already got things in order. Put the other Third Years in charge of practice. Rearranged his schedule to make up for the lost exercise. It's all come so easily, except this part. Trust Osamu to be a monkey wrench. Even as he is clearly hurting.
Sometimes, people really do get in their own way. Well then. Next move.
Shoulders set, Kita marches to the door. Opens it.
"And I take care of my team. If you want to make up for the trouble? Get started healing."
Well, if there's one thing about Kita, it's that there's no point in arguing with his no-nonsense voice. He's almost (almost) scarier than the twins' mom, the way he gets steely and intense. So Osamu just sighs, pulls his shirt back on, and stops himself from reaching for his bag.
"Yes, captain," he mumbles, not sarcastically, but clearly not pleased. He starts walking, knowing that Kita will follow.
It's eerie at first that Osamu can't hear anything coming from the gym, until he remembers that the team's probably been sent to run outside given that both their captain and coach were busy looking after him. Great. Another reason for Atsumu to be pissed at him when he gets him from practice.
Osamu hates throwing himself a pity party, though, so he bites down on the inside of his cheek and tries not to get bogged down in his frustration.
"Thanks for walkin' me home, Kita-san." He says to try and change the subject, even just in his own head.
"You're welcome. But you don't have to thank me for that."
The running would happen anyway. Atsumu needs to stop blaming other people for his issues. A point Kita will make very clear, before the Miyas are reunited.
"Do you have painkiller in your room?" he asks. Moving the agenda right along. "You'll need that, and ice packs. Dinner too."
To the twins, blaming one another for their problems comes as readily as breathing. Kita's intervention would make Atsumu keep it to himself, but there's no way he won't sulk over his twin being injured in the typical selfish Atsumu fashion.
"We have painkillers in the medicine cabinet and ice packs in the freezer," Osamu reports, not wanting to acknowledge that he doesn't have to thank Kita because he doesn't know what to say to that. Except that he wants to thank Kita. "It's my turn to make dinner tonight since Ma's working late, though. I mean, I can still handle it. It's just some rice and steamed fish and veggies."
Kita doesn't mean it to be scathing, but something about the gentle reminder still triggers Osamu's sense of shame. He sighs and looks away, but doesn't disagree.
"Well, you got me there," he mumbles. "But ma and Tsumu are gonna need something to eat."
Osamu is considering this suggestion when he hears the front door click in the same moment Kita does, and it catches him off guard. He's not usually home when his mom gets back, so he had no idea when to expect her. He looks over in time to meet his mother's eye, and winces a little when he sees the immediate concern on her face.
"What happened?" Are the first words out of her mouth, because she's been the one raising the twins since they were born and she knows. Osamu hitches his shoulders up defensively.
"Nothing, ma," he huffs. "Just fell."
She comes over to fuss at him for details. Then turns to Kita and thanks him profusely for looking out for her boys. And then she promises to look after Osamu, and invites Kita to stay for dinner, if he'd like.
Dinner gets declined, politely as possible. The Miyas don't need extra stress. Kita sets the duffel just inside the door. Folding the strap on top, so no one trips.
"Osamu, please let me know what the doctor says?"
Apparently Mrs. Miya already made an appointment. First thing tomorrow.
"Yeah. But you heard what they said at school, it's probably nothing."
And sure enough, the next day the doctor confirms what Goda-san said- it's a muscle contusion, otherwise known as bruising, and Osamu will need to rest for two weeks, no volleyball. Osamu texts this information to Kita right away, not wanting to leave his upperclassman waiting.
Sadly, waiting is all that's left for Osamu. He waits for his back to recover, and in the meantime, watches Atsumu go to the National Youth Volleyball Training Camp without him. And it stings to lose this time to play with his twin, to meet the nation's best and show them up, to show off and test his own mettle.
The rest of the team can definitely tell that Osamu is struggling with being left behind. He shows up to practice out of habit but sits out with the managers, a thundercloud overhead the whole time.
Things finally come to a head in the club room after practice. A few first years are messing around, teasing one another, and one boy squirts another with his water bottle. A puddle forms on the floor as they have their fight, and Osamu sees red.
"Oi! Quit dicking around! You'd better be prepared to mop that up and not just leavin' it to Kita-san!"
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A voice cuts through the inner monologue Osamu's delivering while digging through his gym bag. Kita's voice, which cannot be ignored. And he isn't asking an easily evaded question, either.
"Nothing happened," Osamu says at length, teeth clenched. "'M fine. Everythin's fine. Be out for practice in a minute."
He can't change into his gym clothes until the club room empties, just in case there's a visible sign of his injury plastered across his back.
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Nothing about this is "Fine."
"If nothing happened, you wouldn't be late," he responds evenly. Still waiting for an explanation.
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He turns away from Kita and tugs his shirt off by the collar, wincing a little as it stretches out his back. When the shirt slides off, a giant bruise is uncovered in the middle right of his back, ugly mottled purple and green surrounded by red skin.
"I fell." He explains simply, barely more than a grunt.
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Maybe Osamu's waiting for the chill of disappointment. Getting injured like this, with playoffs so close? It could be catastrophic for Inarizaki. The Twins will have another shot at Nationals. Others are not so lucky. Kita's not so lucky.
Instead, warmth settles on Osamu's shoulder. Kita gently pressing down.
"Please sit. I'm getting Coach and the physio."
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"It's just from a fall. The internet says it's not a big deal." He mumbles, but after he looks over his shoulder at Kita, he lets the arguments fall off his tongue.
"Guess I'd better just let them see, huh?" He concedes.
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Touching isn't new. High-fives, back slaps, all of it comes in the heat of games. This is - Different. Not that gets registered, not now, but Kita flexes his hand as he heads for the door.
As though from a shock.
He's back in barely a minute with Coach Kurosu, Therapist Goda, and a pack of ice.
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"Will be back in time for Nationals?" Kurosu asks.
"I would say it's likely, as long as he takes his rest seriously. But the Youth Training Camp may be off the table."
Osamu bites his lip on a curse, mostly because cursing in front of Kita is worse than cursing in front of God.
Goda wraps a bandage around Osamu's torso, and sends him home with strict instructions for rest and recuperation. Then the adults go down to head up practice, leaving Osamu alone with Kita.
"God... I really blew it," Osamu mumbles, looking down at his feet in his shame and frustration.
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"Accidents happen, Osamu. What matters is what you do now."
The physio was very direct in his instructions. No extra weight, not even books. Osamu needs help getting home. This is obvious. So when Kita hauls up both duffels, it's without a single grunt of protest.
"Let's go."
The team's out running. They'll be able to leave with the least amount of fuss.
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To inconvenience Kita like that would be too much.
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Kita folds his arms. Locking the bags in place.
"How irresponsible are you? Are you trying to knock yourself out for the whole season? Start another fight with Atsumu?"
Each question is a precise shot. Sent deep, to pierce the pride or stubbornness or whatever Osamu's using instead of his brain. Unbelievable.
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"'Tsumu wouldn't fight me over this," he grunts, because of course his twin wouldn't actually kick him while he was down, metaphorically speaking. Literally might be another story. "He'll be pissed, sure, but he'll help me get home just like any brother would. You don't have to go out of your way for me and miss practice, Kita-san."
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"But this isn't out of my way. Not if I want to do it."
Simple as that. It's no more than Kita would do for anyone. This way, no one has to worry. (Of course, someone could ask why the worry matters. Why it's coming to a head, in this room, with this situation...)
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Resisting the help makes sense, because Osamu already feels bad enough that he cost his team one of their players; taking Kita away too after he's gone and stupidly gotten himself hurt would just be too cruel.
"It's not even that bad. I deserve to wait for doing this to myself."
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Which means Kita's already got things in order. Put the other Third Years in charge of practice. Rearranged his schedule to make up for the lost exercise. It's all come so easily, except this part. Trust Osamu to be a monkey wrench. Even as he is clearly hurting.
Sometimes, people really do get in their own way. Well then. Next move.
Shoulders set, Kita marches to the door. Opens it.
"And I take care of my team. If you want to make up for the trouble? Get started healing."
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"Yes, captain," he mumbles, not sarcastically, but clearly not pleased. He starts walking, knowing that Kita will follow.
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"Good."
Osamu probably can't go his normal speed, and the bags are balanced. Kita keeps pace. Their steps booming in the vacant gym.
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Osamu hates throwing himself a pity party, though, so he bites down on the inside of his cheek and tries not to get bogged down in his frustration.
"Thanks for walkin' me home, Kita-san." He says to try and change the subject, even just in his own head.
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The running would happen anyway. Atsumu needs to stop blaming other people for his issues. A point Kita will make very clear, before the Miyas are reunited.
"Do you have painkiller in your room?" he asks. Moving the agenda right along. "You'll need that, and ice packs. Dinner too."
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"We have painkillers in the medicine cabinet and ice packs in the freezer," Osamu reports, not wanting to acknowledge that he doesn't have to thank Kita because he doesn't know what to say to that. Except that he wants to thank Kita. "It's my turn to make dinner tonight since Ma's working late, though. I mean, I can still handle it. It's just some rice and steamed fish and veggies."
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Kita mulls over an answer.
"...Maybe you've done enough in the kitchen for today?"
An actual, honest question. Not a critique.
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"Well, you got me there," he mumbles. "But ma and Tsumu are gonna need something to eat."
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He looks at Osamu a moment, then nods.
"You could order takeout," he suggests. "Or - Oh. Is that your mother?"
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"What happened?" Are the first words out of her mouth, because she's been the one raising the twins since they were born and she knows. Osamu hitches his shoulders up defensively.
"Nothing, ma," he huffs. "Just fell."
She comes over to fuss at him for details. Then turns to Kita and thanks him profusely for looking out for her boys. And then she promises to look after Osamu, and invites Kita to stay for dinner, if he'd like.
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Dinner gets declined, politely as possible. The Miyas don't need extra stress. Kita sets the duffel just inside the door. Folding the strap on top, so no one trips.
"Osamu, please let me know what the doctor says?"
Apparently Mrs. Miya already made an appointment. First thing tomorrow.
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And sure enough, the next day the doctor confirms what Goda-san said- it's a muscle contusion, otherwise known as bruising, and Osamu will need to rest for two weeks, no volleyball. Osamu texts this information to Kita right away, not wanting to leave his upperclassman waiting.
Sadly, waiting is all that's left for Osamu. He waits for his back to recover, and in the meantime, watches Atsumu go to the National Youth Volleyball Training Camp without him. And it stings to lose this time to play with his twin, to meet the nation's best and show them up, to show off and test his own mettle.
The rest of the team can definitely tell that Osamu is struggling with being left behind. He shows up to practice out of habit but sits out with the managers, a thundercloud overhead the whole time.
Things finally come to a head in the club room after practice. A few first years are messing around, teasing one another, and one boy squirts another with his water bottle. A puddle forms on the floor as they have their fight, and Osamu sees red.
"Oi! Quit dicking around! You'd better be prepared to mop that up and not just leavin' it to Kita-san!"
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Re-reading manga and Kita's/the Kansai dialect is a bit more distinct SO
Totally up to you how you wanna render it!
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