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!"
Kita's tone sounds stoic and cool, but Osamu is still hot. He sees the mop in his upperclassman's hand and takes it, giving it to one of the freshmen boys without hesitating.
"Here, clean it up. The last thing the team needs is for someone else to slip and fall."
That would just be cruel on top of Osamu's similar injury.
Miya Osamu chewing out someone else for shenanigans? Has Doomsday come early? Kita's so nonplussed he doesn't protest the mop theft. Just folds his arms. Watching. This reinforces Osamu's point and adds an extra thoroughness to the cleaning.
Finally, the First Years scuttle out. Still apologizing. Kita exhales.
Osamu, still feeling irritable, isn't quite in a forgiving mood even thought the first years are apologizing profusely. But the mess is dried up, so they can go, and he's left annoyed with himself for getting so annoyed in the first place.
And Kita is probably judging him now, too. At least it feels that way when he calls Osamu out.
"I wasn't yelling," he counters. "Just tellin' them off for doing something stupid and dangerous. And they were probably gonna leave without even liftin' a finger to clean it up!"
Osamu is not pouting, but it's a near thing. He doesn't know how to handle being called out by Kita.
"Yeah, well, what if someone else fell like I did," he grumbles, though of course that's not really why he's upset. And Kita has that intense stare like he can see right through him.
It doesn't take long for him to cave.
"Tsumu's enjoying himself at camp," he finally grunts. "Can't even be bothered to answer my texts most days."
Osamu scrubs the back of his neck self-consciously. "All the best in Japan are there, so of course he's there. And it's not like I wasn't invited. I just blew it for myself so I can't even blame him for goin' without me."
Osamu nodded stiffly. "Tsumu works harder, but we push each other plenty. So him getting on there without me... sorta feels unfair. And we'll be too old next year."
This is really hard to talk about, to Osamu's surprise. And there's more to the story that he still feels reluctant to say. But maybe, because it's Kita, Osamu can trust him? Maybe. He has to weigh it more first.
"It's not like that's your only chance. Aren't you two getting scouted already?"
That's the rumor, anyway. Accompanied by suspicious regulars at their games, scribbling notes. There is no way Osamu won't shine. Players like him, monsters like him, they demand the spotlight.
"And you were invited to camp - Junior Olympics still isn't off the table."
Osamu can read the surprise in Kita's body language and on his face. He knew to expect it, because it's taken for granted by pretty much everyone that he and Atsumu can and will go pro together.
But that isn't really what Osamu wants.
"No," he confirms. "I love volleyball, and I love playing with Tsumu. But I'm not hungry for it the way he is. I can't really imagine doing this for the rest of my life."
no subject
"Yes, captain," he mumbles, not sarcastically, but clearly not pleased. He starts walking, knowing that Kita will follow.
no subject
"Good."
Osamu probably can't go his normal speed, and the bags are balanced. Kita keeps pace. Their steps booming in the vacant gym.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
Kita mulls over an answer.
"...Maybe you've done enough in the kitchen for today?"
An actual, honest question. Not a critique.
no subject
"Well, you got me there," he mumbles. "But ma and Tsumu are gonna need something to eat."
no subject
He looks at Osamu a moment, then nods.
"You could order takeout," he suggests. "Or - Oh. Is that your mother?"
no subject
"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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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!"
no subject
"Osamu."
Kita stands in the door. Already holding a mop, a brow raised.
no subject
"Here, clean it up. The last thing the team needs is for someone else to slip and fall."
That would just be cruel on top of Osamu's similar injury.
Properly cowed, the boys get to mopping.
no subject
Finally, the First Years scuttle out. Still apologizing. Kita exhales.
"You know you don't need to yell at them."
no subject
And Kita is probably judging him now, too. At least it feels that way when he calls Osamu out.
"I wasn't yelling," he counters. "Just tellin' them off for doing something stupid and dangerous. And they were probably gonna leave without even liftin' a finger to clean it up!"
no subject
Spoken as the one who breaks up the Twins' nonsense.
Kita folds his arm. A gesture with many, many nuances. In this case, 'I'm listening but also not letting you squirm out of an explanation.'
no subject
"Yeah, well, what if someone else fell like I did," he grumbles, though of course that's not really why he's upset. And Kita has that intense stare like he can see right through him.
It doesn't take long for him to cave.
"Tsumu's enjoying himself at camp," he finally grunts. "Can't even be bothered to answer my texts most days."
no subject
With how much upheaval Osamu's faced, it was hard to tell what set him off. This is a line to follow.
"He's there, and you're not."
no subject
no subject
It was a big deal to have two Inarizaki players invited to that camp. Even if the announcement shocked no one.
Then again... maybe that lack of surprise should be looked at. One brother went, and the other stayed. This did not play out how anyone expected.
"Guess it makes sense, you're bothered by that. It was proof of how hard you worked."
no subject
This is really hard to talk about, to Osamu's surprise. And there's more to the story that he still feels reluctant to say. But maybe, because it's Kita, Osamu can trust him? Maybe. He has to weigh it more first.
no subject
"It's not like that's your only chance. Aren't you two getting scouted already?"
That's the rumor, anyway. Accompanied by suspicious regulars at their games, scribbling notes. There is no way Osamu won't shine. Players like him, monsters like him, they demand the spotlight.
"And you were invited to camp - Junior Olympics still isn't off the table."
no subject
He takes a deep breath.
"I don't think I'm going to keep playing after high school."
And then he watches for Kita's reaction, holding his breath entirely. He'd stop his heart from beating if he could, but it thunders in his chest.
no subject
It's like missing a step. This world pitching forward into a new one. The same feeling as earlier, when Osamu defended Kita from unnecessary work.
Kita starts to speak, feeling the words jumble from shock. He clears his throat.
"You don't?"
no subject
But that isn't really what Osamu wants.
"No," he confirms. "I love volleyball, and I love playing with Tsumu. But I'm not hungry for it the way he is. I can't really imagine doing this for the rest of my life."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Re-reading manga and Kita's/the Kansai dialect is a bit more distinct SO
Totally up to you how you wanna render it!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)