Chapter Text
Kiyoomi’s POV
Kiyoomi sits in his seat and does not fidget as Atsumu and Osamu leave to help the twins wash up. He unexpectedly finds himself under the scrutiny of Suna Rintarou’s curious gaze, and he wonders if he should be attempting small talk.
“Soo…” Suna begins, eyeing the snow globe cradled in his palms. “You and Atsumu, huh?”
Small talk it is. “Is it that weird?”
Suna’s airy laugh makes him arch an eyebrow. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but you’re… several degrees to the left? You seem like you mostly have your shit together.”
“Gee, thanks.” It’s Kiyoomi’s turn to snort. “Normally I’d agree but—he is taking care of toddlers and doing it successfully, so give him more credit.”
“Uh-oh,” Suna pokes good-naturedly. “He has you wrapped around his finger doesn’t he?”
He does not blush. “You’re one to talk…”
Suna doesn’t bother waving off the accusation. He's just short of grinning at Kiyoomi’s undoubtedly flustered expression. “Oh, you mean me and Samu? I plan to marry that guy,” he shrugs. “So unless you’re planning to get hitched too…”
Kiyoomi has half a mind not to fall out of his chair and hightail it from the building.
Tsumu’s peals of laughter emanate from the guest bedroom, thankfully distracting Suna from witnessing Kiyoomi’s face melt in real time. “What’re they doing in there?”
“Pa!” Tsumu giggles.
Kiyoomi looks at the snow globe in his hands and wants to melt all over again.
When the twins first showed up, he had many reservations. He hadn’t the faintest idea what crossed wires brought them to this timeline, so he can’t be blamed for the urge to be cautious in the face of the unknown.
That’s all well and done now that the little ones blew his caution to smithereens. Kiyoomi is… well, invested, to say the least.
He’s grown more attached than he had been accounting for, but it’s been hard to look at the adorable miniature versions of the man he loves likes and not feel his heart soften and melt to a puddle of goo.
This snow globe represents something precious to Kiyoomi. Not only because Tsumu seems to be just as attached to him, but because he also knows that in the grand scheme of things, it leads back to one person.
Why does it always lead back to you? Kiyoomi thinks with a fond sigh, turning the snow globe over in his hands. Since their first match at Nationals, when Kiyoomi had found Atsumu irritating but kept finding his way back to him on the court, to getting paired up at the All Japan Youth Camp and asked to room together.
To signing a contract with the MSBY Jackals, to this.
Atsumu is in every corner as though Kiyoomi’s destiny is to never escape him. And now there’s two of him.
He wonders if the universe is trying to tell him something.
“Story-story-time~” Samu returns, still happily crooning his new mantara. In one of his arms is a plushy: a frog with pink cheeks and a silly little hat.
He gives Kiyoomi a cheeky grin when he finds Kiyoomi watching him, before racing to Suna’s lap as though to taunt him for having found another favourite adult.
Fondness swirls in his chest.
“Why, hello there,” Suna’s smile softens as Samu happily situates himself on his thigh. “That’s a cute plushy you’ve got.”
“From Oji-san,” Samu announces. “Ya can hold ’im too if ya want!”
“Oh really,” Suna chuckles warmly, holding the plushy’s hand. “That’s so kind of you, Samu.”
Samu beams and allows Suna to hug him back against his chest.
The scene is a little jarring, because Samu’s hair looks like Suna’s, and though they aren’t at all related, for a moment Kiyoomi thinks he's seeing them as father and son.
He flushes at the thought and hastily looks away, as though his thoughts are at threat of being broadcasted. He's been thinking about kids and family far too much lately; it’s starting to embarrass him.
In the past, the concept of family had been a little intangible, if not completely foreign to Kiyoomi, who grew up with absent parents. Family dinners happened once a year during Christmas, though even then, those meetings were liable to getting cancelled last minute.
His siblings, being much older, are rarely around or interested in being a part of Kiyoomi’s life.
There’s only Motoya.
He didn’t think he ever wanted a family, let alone kids. After all, Kiyoomi learned the hard way how disappointing and painful it can be.
“Dooone!” Tsumu’s cheer resounds as he races into the room in a cute set of fox pyjamas and slippers.
He successfully interrupts Kiyoomi’s internal spiel by skipping to his side and shyly giving his cheek a kiss, before continuing on his way to Suna.
Surprised, Kiyoomi touches the spot. He blinks rapidly, warmed by the gesture and simultaneously embarrassed by Suna’s little cackles.
“Don’t I get one?” Suna asks Tsumu with a shameless fake pout.
“Rinrin can get one, too!” Tsumu gasps, scandalised, and throws his arms around the other man’s neck to dutifully bestow a sloppy peck on his cheek.
It’s frankly upsetting how disgustingly mushy it makes him, Kiyoomi thinks, as his chest clenches. He has half a mind not to offer to join Suna in his bedtime story endeavours.
Unfortunately, he has a hunch that Suna will see right through him.
“Whatever they do, ya can’t give ‘em back,” Atsumu announces his presence with a foxy smile. “Enjoy yer toddler cuddles, you two.”
“Don’t think yer off the hook,” Osamu wags a finger in Atsumu’s face. “Ya have a guest to take care of.”
The same finger turns to point at Kiyoomi, sly when paired with such a knowing expression. “Ya better make sure Sakusa-san is very comfortable.”
Atsumu goes red to the roots of his bleached hair. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”
“Nothing~” Osamu singsongs and approaches his boyfriend. “Come on, Rin, we have bedtime stories to tell.”
He bends to pick up Tsumu under his arm, all while grinning mischievously. “Magical knights and talking frogs await.”
“Woop, woop!” Tsumu crows and giggles heartily when Osmau swings him up over his shoulder.
Suna shrugs, affecting nonchalance as he rises with Samu in his arms. He sends Atsumu a lackadaisical smirk. “Good luck if you think I’m giving them back.”
And then they both disappear to their bedroom with the twins, trailing cherubic giggles like breadcrumbs in their wake.
“So, I guess that solves the mystery of where I’ll sleep tonight,” Kiyoomi says drily.
“I’m going to kill him,” Atsumu announces, face still glowing a fascinating shade of red.
Kiyoomi chuckles, patting the empty chair next to him. “Sit down before you have an aneurysm.”
Grumbling, Atsumu claims the seat and for a moment seems surprised when Kiyoomi grabs his hand. Shyness makes his cheeks warmer, and Kiyoomi is ever endeared. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed… besides, I’m the one meeting your mother tomorrow.”
Atsumu ducks his head to hide his blush. “Ahaha, oh yeah. Don’t worry, Omi, Ma will love ya. She may act tough but she’s a real sweetheart.”
Smiling faintly, Kiyoomi places his palm atop Atsumu’s head. “I think I’ll be fine.”
Despite his nerves, he fully believes this.
Atsumu’s answering smile is warm and reaches into the places in his chest that haven’t seen the sun in a long time.
The Miya household is a cosy two-storey property nestled between two houses, pale and inviting with its pastel blue front door and sash windows. It has a quaint front porch with two rocking chairs and a small tree.
Kiyoomi would be lying if he says he isn’t nervous as they climb the porch, and Osamu knocks on the door.
Atsumu hangs back a step with the twins, allowing Osamu and Suna to take point.
The door swings open with a happy noise of surprise, to reveal a small, plump woman in an apron. “Boys,” she says with a motherly smile, setting her eyes on Osamu and Suna and then drawing them both into hugs. “Yer here!”
She is comically small next to them, barely reaching Osamu’s shoulder.
“Hi, Ma,” Osamu bends to receive her hug, completely dwarfing her in his frame, and kisses her head. “We come bearing some surprise guests, like I told ya on the phone…”
Suna is pulled into a similar hug, familiar and comfortable. “Hi, Kaa-san,” he says.
“That prank was not funny, Osamu,” Kana-san chides as she releases Suna, and allows them to enter her home before resuming her greetings.
Osamu rounds behind Kiyoomi to take the twins from Atsumu—they are standing quietly behind his legs, shielded from view—to allow him to greet his mother.
“Tsumu,” his mother croons happily as he bends to hug her around the waist, almost lifting her off her feet. She lets out a surprised squeak, patting him on the shoulder.
Atsumu draws back, looking a little nervous. “Hey, Ma, I’ve missed ya.”
He turns his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, opening his hand in invitation. “I’d like to introduce ya to… to my boyfriend.”
Kana-san sets her eyes on him, much warmer than Kiyoomi expected, and the exact lovely shade of honey as Atsumu. “Ah, ya must be Sakusa-kun?”
“Pardon the intrusion, Miya-san—” Sakusa begins to say only to be cut off by a hug.
For such a deceptively tiny person, Kana-san’s strength allows her to pull Kiyoomi down for a brief, one-armed embrace. “Welcome to the family!” she says, drawing back with a beam and simultaneously turns to Atsumu. “Ya didn’t tell me he was so handsome!”
Atsumu flushes, though he looks happy and proud. “The prettiest of ’em all,” he says slyly, sending a rush of warmth to Kiyoomi’s cheeks.
He tries to glare at him, but they’re distracted by Osamu clearing his throat and ushering the twins forward into plain view.
Kana-san freezes, her eyes going wide.
The twins, each clutching a leg, look up at Osamu for guidance and Osamu pets their hair reassuringly and sends his mother a strained smile. “Ma, these are Samu and Tsumu. They’ve been wanting to see ya.”
To her credit, Kana-san recovers admirably fast, wiping her hands fretfully across her apron and blinking rapidly before reigning in her shock.
She crouches low, summoning a wobbly but warm smile. “Hi, boys,” she said again, opening her arms in invitation.
“Oba-san!” they simultaneously chorus and just like that, they tackle her.
Kana-san hugs them both fiercely, her teary, bewildered expression far too endearing. “Oh my goodness,” she says, peppering both cheeks with kisses. “Look at ya! Oh my boys, yer so small!”
The twins giggle, allowing her to cover them with more kisses, and they unrepentantly ruining the low bun resting at her nape with their hugs until Kana-san’s hair is more flyaways and unruly strands than anything neat.
She looks at Osamu and Atsumu over their shoulders with a thunderstruck expression as she hugs the small twins tightly. “H-how?” she croaks, rubbing Tsumu’s back and kissing Samu’s cheek again.
It doesn’t look like she might let them go anytime soon.
Kiyoomi doesn’t have children of his own, and he is hardly close to his own parents, but he imagines it must be an earth-shattering joy to see your grown up children as kids again, full of innocent wonder and sweetness.
Kana-san rises with the twins in her arms, carrying both of them on her hips like they weren’t heavier than she could bear. The older twins exclaim in shock and worry—Osamu looks one step away from intervening to help, but one look from Kana-san quells him. “I carried you for years,” she huffs, beginning to head for the living room.
“It’s not good for your back, Ma,” Atsumu protests, stalking after her.
“I’m not a granny yet!” Kana-san sounds scandalised. “My back is just fine. Look at them! Oh my sweet boys, I’ve missed yer cute li’l faces so much!”
The twins giggle again as she rains more kisses all over their faces.
She sits with them in her lap and pats the couch next to her. “C’mon, sit!”
Kiyoomi realises with a start that she’s addressing him. He shares a fleeting, nervous look with Atsumu before he joins her on the three-seater. “I’m so sorry dear,” she says with a huff of incredulous laughter. “They scattered my brain! But I haven’t forgotten about ya.”
“It’s alright, Miya-san—”
“Please, none of that formal stuff! It’s Kana-san fer ya if yer dating my crazy son,” she says, grinning even as Atsumu splutters indignantly and claims the armchair.
A sense of warmth washes over Kiyoomi when Kana-san pats his shoulder. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she says sincerely. “When Samu told me Tsumu is finally bringing someone home, I was so happy. He never introduces me to anyone!”
“Ma.” Atsumu looks like his face is going to melt off. “Please.”
“Hush you,” Kana-san chides her son. “Let a mother have her little joys. I have photo albums collecting dust!”
Atsumu and Osamu share a horrified look.
“Not the photo albums,” Atsumu pleads.
“Ma, it’ll send Sakusa-san running for the hills,” Osamu says gravely.
“You’re so dramatic.” Suna is chuckling lightheartedly, so Sakusa assumes he won’t, in fact, go running for the hills.
“Rin, would you be a dear and grab them from the bookcase.” Kana-san seems intent on ignoring her sons’ dramatic wailing, choosing instead to nuzzle their miniature version with the most affectionate smile.
“Oh, look at you,” she coos again, pumping her nose into Tsumu’s rosy cheek. “I must be dreaming, maybe I miss my sons too much.”
Kiyoomi’s gaze drops to the twins, their faces lit with innocent happiness as they share Kana-san’s lap and accept all her kisses, and he feels his chest swarm with love again.
“I can’t blame you,” he finds himself saying, allowing his hand to extend to pet Tsumu’s unruly hair. “They’re so precious.”
Tsumu turns his head to beam at Kiyoomi with his little square teeth and crescent moon eyes. One of his hands reaches for Kiyoomi’s palm on his head to wrap his tiny hand around two fingers. “Love you, Omi-omi!”
Kiyoomi flushes as Kana-san’s eyes turn to him, still warm and motherly. “Is that so?”
Samu, who has his frog plushy in his arms, raises it to show Kana-san. “Yes! He told us a story about the froggies!”
Suna returns then with the requested photo albums to save Kiyoomi from the embarrassment of being seen.
At the sight of the albums, Atsumu actually bends over to hide his face in his knees and groans with such ferocity that Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Hush you,” Kana-san says again, receiving one of the albums. She turns to Kiyoomi. “Will you take Tsumu, please.”
Tsumu opens his arms, making grabby hands.
“Op-pa,” Kiyoomi says, smiling, as he seats Tsumu in his lap.
His eye catches Atsumu for a moment, the latter’s cheeks glowing, and he feels another surge of affection that almost makes him sick with butterflies.
Kana-san cracks open the album, grin so wide it looks painful. “There you are,” she chuckles gleefully.
Kiyoomi peers over her shoulder to see Atsumu and Osamu as toddlers (much like their current miniature versions) in a bathtub. Each of them is holding a toy duck, but they’re both crying.
“What happened?” he huffs in amusement.
“Atsumu thought Osamu’s duckie was bigger,” Kana-san divulges conspiratorially. “And Osamu didn’t want to exchange. They cried until I confiscated the duckies, then kept cryin’ 'cause they didn’t wanna leave the tub.”
Unbidden, a snort escapes him.
Kana-san flips the page, Suna leaning over their shoulders to look at the next photo. This one is of the twins when they were much smaller. They’re sitting in a baby chair each, adorned in fox bibs and covered with food.
“Oh god,” Suna starts laughing, because in the picture, Samu managed to fully shove his little plastic spoon in Tsumu’s mouth, and Tsumu was wailing. “You were such a menace.”
“Rin, please sit, you've already seen these.” Osamu’s pleadings fall on deaf ears as Kana-san turns the page again.
“Awww,” Suna coos, just as Kiyoomi presses a hand to his poor heart.
“Right?” Kana-san croons lovingly, all three of them looking at the slumbering twins in the photo.
Judging by the orange onesie, it’s Tsumu’s head pillowed on Samu’s stomach, and Samu’s hand in his hair. They look no older than eight or nine months, each of them sucking on a pacifier.
Tsumu points his little finger at the photo. “‘S me,” he says excitedly.
Kiyoomi rests his chin atop his head as they peer closely at the album. His little weight is warm and comforting; it makes Kiyoomi cuddle him back against his chest.
In the next picture, the twins are in their little froggy raincoats and standing in a puddle in the backyard. They’re sharing an umbrella, hands around each other and beaming at the camera.
Kiyoomi’s heart is hurting. He muffles a soft noise into Tsumu’s hair, even though his company doesn’t put forward the same restraint.
Suna actually plucks Samu out of his mother’s arms to cuddle him against his chest. “You’re so cute,” he complains, pressing their cheeks together. “Why are you so cute?!”
Giggling, Samu squirms in Suna’s hold. “Dunno!”
Suna shamelessly turns to look at his boyfriend, “Why are you so cute?”
“Stop,” Osamu complains, cheeks beginning to redden. “Come sit down, why’re ya doing this?”
Sniggering to himself, Suna plops down next to Osamu, arms still full of the latter’s miniature version. “Because you’re so fun to tease?”
Even though it earns him an elbow to his side, Suna doesn’t look perturbed, smile wider than Kiyoomi is used to seeing, eyes warmer and kinder.
Kiyoomi meets Atsumu’s eyes and wonders if he looks like this too—adoring and happy.
Judging by the way Atsumu hastily ducks his head, red flooding his cheeks, Kiyoomi can only assume that yes, he too, mirrors Suna’s expression.
As ludicrous as the thought is, perhaps this is the true Miya twin effect.
Kiyoomi must look completely enamoured.