I swear the chapter title will make sense eventually.
"What the fuck?"
Atsumu's exasperated giggle rang in Ema's ears as she felt her entire face flame red—partly from the embarrassment of having a grown-ass man fall on top of her in a compromising position, and partly because said grown-ass man was heavy and pressing the oxygen from her lungs. She wheezed and swung her fists into Kuroo's sides in the hope that he got the message to get the fuck off. Before he could peel himself away, Ema caught the flash from someone's phone camera. There could only be one culprit. Fucking Sunarin, she seethed. Once fully extricated, Ema took a moment to breathe in deeply. On the exhale, she reared her arm back and gave a good, solid smack to the back of Kuroo's head.
"Fuck! Ow, I'm sorry! I swear it was an accident." She took his thoroughly red face to mean his shame was well and truly felt. Next, Ema made her way over to Atsumu, who was still stuck staring from the doorway. "Give me my phone. Now." She growled, hand outstretched. He gently laid the phone in her palm all the while grinning maliciously from ear to ear. Atsumu bent down to whisper in her ear, while (unbeknownst to Ema) making eye contact with Kuroo.
"Didn't know ya moved that fast, Em-chan, but congrats, he's pretty hot." His whisper was, unfortunately, overheard by the imposing figure standing next to him: Sakusa Kiyoomi, who after meeting eyes with Ema and receiving a subtle nod from her, gave Atsumu a mirroring smack on the back of his head.
"Shit, Omi I didn't mean it like that!" He whined.
"You're disgusting." Sakusa shrugged in response. He turned to Ema and smiled from behind his black cloth face mask. "It's good to see you again, Sonoda-san."
"You too, Sakusa-kun. Congrats on the win!"
"I've told you before, you can call me Kiyoomi." Sakusa liked Ema. He didn't like many of Atsumu's friends, simply because, well, they were all a little too similar to Atsumu, and he didn't have enough energy to spare for more than one Atsumu. Ema was warm but respectful, fun to talk to since, unlike some of his teammates, she held interests outside of volleyball, and for her innate ability to keep Atsumu in line (effectively giving him the night off.)
Ema turned next to face Suna, who was not so subtly hiding behind Osamu. That rat must have figured out there was something going on between the two and harnessed that awkward energy to ensure his blackmail materials remained untouched.
"Delete the picture, Suna." She said as evenly as possible. Suna Rintaro thrived on eliciting a reaction from people. The best strategy was to come at him unbothered, though it wasn't always feasible to keep her emotions in check.
"I don't know, it's kind of hot." He grinned smugly over Osamu's shoulders, which visibly tensed.
"Delete it." She ground out. When he made no move to unlock his phone, Ema turned pleading eyes to Osamu. She was still mad at him for his outburst at the arena, but she wasn't above using Suna's soft spot for Osamu against him. "I'm serious."
When even that fails, Ema turns Suna's tactics around on him. "If you delete it I'll send you two voice memos Atsumu sent me the last time he cried his eyes out while watching Titanic."
"Deal." Suna drawled.
"Em-chan what the fuck how could you!" Atsumu squawked. Sakusa made no attempt to suppress a laugh.
She watched him carefully as Suna deleted the image from his phone, in return forwarding said voice memos.
"Pleasure doing business with you." He smirked, one hand still firmly planted on Osamu's shoulder. The younger Miya twin audibly tsked, renewing Ema's anger.
"What, Osamu? Got something else to say to me?" Ema only used their full given names when really angry. Osamu gulped but held his ground. He had managed to keep his cool at the arena, but the usually firm grip on his temper was beginning to slip. Most people viewed the Miya twins as well-balanced opposites—Atsumu's energy to Osamu's steadfastness; hot-headed flare to cool-distanced calm. In reality, the thin line separating the two Miya's in regards to their temperament was time. Atsumu's fuse was relatively short, while Osamu's was just the tiniest bit longer. So there it sat, Osamu's hot anger, ready to boil over.
Ema knew there were more than a few curious eyes on the two of them. She knew they'd have questions, pitying eyes, and pats on the back she doesn't want or need. It had taken almost all of her emotional energy to get Osamu off her back earlier that evening, and here he was, unrelenting yet again. Outside of the locker rooms after a volleyball game, Ema figured, was not the place or time to tell him about the end of her engagement, especially considering their company amongst people who hadn't known about her relationship in the first place. She knew he was angry, or at the very least expected a better explanation than I left my ring at home, 'Samu, don't worry about me so much. From the moment the words left her lips, Ema knew he didn't believe her, the hurt of a known lie lingering on his face.
Ema wasn't clueless. The change had happened sometime around their second year of high school: stuttering where speech had previously been smooth and playful, finding excuses to walk Ema from her classroom to the cafeteria, red-tipped ears at the sight of her in a yukata during summer festivals. When she had asked 'Tsumu about what it meant, all he said was, I don't know, ask 'Samu. Girls ain't really my thing. A girl she sat next to in biology finally put Ema out of her misery by asking how long the 'quiet Miya' had had a crush on her. It was easy to surmise, then, that Osamu's questions at the arena, her subsequent omission of truth, and the unfortunate position of Kuroo falling on top of her at the bar, were all leading to an outburst of hurt Ema knew there would be no going back from.
Osamu closed his eyes and sighed heavily, like he was counting to ten in an attempt to walk himself back from the ledge. It was a show of patience—even if it's worn thin—that gripped at Ema's own annoyance and eased it down.
"Look, just...just come pick out some music with me." She offered, nodding in the direction of an aging jukebox nestled in the far corner of the bar near the bathrooms. It was both a peace offering and out, if Osamu wanted to take it. He could pick some shitty dad rock songs he likes, pout, get his answers, and hopefully, if Ema played her cards right, get their relationship back to where it once was. It all made her think fondly back to high school and her moniker of 'Miya wrangler.'
"Fine. But yer payin' for the first five songs." He grumbled, nudging Suna's hand from his shoulder and walking towards the jukebox. Once they reached their destination, the quiet aches between them as Osamu flipped through the song choices. Ema knew she'd have to be the one to apologize first. It's always been that way, even with Atsumu. It wasn't that the twins won't accept the fact that they've fucked up, but that they needed a push or two to get over their pride about it.
"'M sorry about earlier." Ema started, slowly gathering everything she wanted to say into a coherent package. She liked having the time to plan these things out, but knew that life doesn't always give you the time to do so. "I didn't mean to snap at you at the arena, but…'Samu I don't want everyone to know just yet, okay? So like, shit." Ema sniffed. The thin wall of emotion she'd been holding back since Atsumu left earlier that morning was near crumbling. "I didn't even tell anyone in Tokyo that was engaged in the first place and now that I'm not anymore, it...fuck, I don't know what I would even say."
Osamu's finger slipped, pressing 'play' on a truly reprehensible ballad from at least thirty years ago. The low crooning and syrupy strings did nothing to drown out his exasperated "What?!"
"Oh my god keep your voice down, you ass!" Ema hissed. A war broke out over Osamu's face, no doubt between a desire to scream at her about hiding something like that from him and the need to keep himself in check, lest he make Ema even angrier.
"Fuckin' hell." He sighed, pinching his nose right between his thick eyebrows. "I mean, shit. How-how are...are ya okay Ema? When did it happen?" She looked up at him, eyes glassy, and answered in a voice far too small for his liking.
"I'll be okay, I guess. We talked about it, made up our minds yesterday. S'for the best, right?" She wasn't sure if she was asking for confirmation from Osamu or herself.
"Yesterday? Fuck, is that why 'Tsumu stayed over?" She nodded. Osamu stepped closer, effectively boxing her in from the rising volume of the bar and shielding her red, wet eyes from the crowd. It reminded her of when the twins did something similar in middle school after a boy rejected her confession letter. The boys were already tall for their age so it was easy to walk Ema from class to class as very effective human shields. The memory bubbled up with a laugh that Ema was sure sounded more manic than genuinely happy, but it was all she could do to keep her voice from cracking.
"It doesn't feel real until I'm reminded that it is, you know? You can ask 'Tsumu about it. I don't have the energy to retell the whole story. Just..keep Suna out of my shit."
"Suna's an ass, but he'd never rag ya for somethin' like this, Em." Osamu reassured her. "Still won't say anythin' though. Does yer Kuroko-kun or whatever friend know 'bout all this?" He shuffled his feet and looked over his shoulder back towards the bar top where a group of her friends had gathered.
"It's Kuroo, and no, he doesn't. It's fine if it's you and 'Tsumu knowing, but I don't want my friends pitying me or whatever." Osamu clicked his teeth.
"'S'not pity if they simply recognize yer goin' through somethin' shitty and wanna be there for ya." Ema snorted.
"'Tsumu said the same thing."
"Ew. Don't rope me in with that fuckin' scrub."
##
Kuroo was having a nice time, really he was. Sonoda's friends were easy to talk to, even Oikawa once he loosened up after a few margaritas. Most of the volleyball players stuck together, either at the table scouted by Akaashi and Bokuto or further down the bar near the dart board where a game was quickly turning heated between the short MSBY ginger and Kageyama. Kuroo shivered at the vicious waves of competitive energy radiating from the pair. Lev had his hands full serving the rowdy crowd so Kuroo let him be and get on with his job. He'd flag Sawamara down once he got there with Lev's wallet—he really was such a good friend and roommate. His attention was stolen from Oikawa's story about attempting to rope Suga into a threesome by Sonoda returning from her little sojourn to the jukebox with Osamu. Said Miya slunk back towards the middle blocker from EJP that Kuroo was too much of a chicken to go talk to after the game. Turning to Sonoda at his left, Kuroo caught the slightest bit of discomfort on her face and took a breath. Right. Time to be a good friend.
"Are you ever going to tell me how you know so many professional volleyball players, or am I supposed to just guess?" He drawled, one eyebrow arched up into his bedhead.
"I don't know. Might be fun to watch you struggle for a while." She teased. As much as Kuroo wanted the full story, he was still a little leary of hearing some long, drawn-out romantic saga about how Sonoda met Atsumu, fell in love, and perfectly melded into a volleyball family. He didn't need more ammunition for the gun pointed at his stupid heart. He huffed and took a long pull of beer from his glass. Kuroo knew he shouldn't—it'd only be digging his grave deeper—but he asked anyway, curiosity more pressing than his sense of emotional self-preservation.
"Well, you seem pretty close to those Miyas, I'm guessing it started there?" Sonoda's smile wiped away any lingering trace of upset he had noticed just a moment ago.
"Good guess. I grew up with them, next door neighbors, middle school, high school. We did all of that together. I was even the team manager when 'Tsumu and 'Samu played volleyball in high school. Suna, he plays for EJP," she pointed to Kuroo's middle blocker idol, "he was on the school team, too. Once 'Tsumu joined MSBY I got to meet the rest of these clowns and it's pretty easy to get roped into their nonsense." She smiled warmly again, full of fondness and nostalgia. Kuroo admitted to himself that it was a nice story, thankfully devoid of the hearts and rainbows he anticipated surrounding anything Miya Atsumu; though nothing about Sonoda's personality led him to believe she could be 'hearts and rainbows' about anything other than her research.
"Ah, high school volleyball." Kuroo sighed. "That's how I ended up stuck with Lev and Yaku. Well, Yaku's alright but Lev can be an acquired taste. Oh, and Sawamara too, I think he's stopping by soon."
"Kenma didn't play with you?" Sonoda asked.
"Ha! As if I didn't try to make that happen. But no, sports aren't really his thing, something about having to actually work up a sweat." Kuroo chuckled. He wanted the two of them to meet. Both Sonoda and Kenma shared a snarky form of warmth that made Kuroo feel at home.
Sonoda knocked back the rest of her beer and smiled. Kuroo would have taken longer to admire the sight if he hadn't been interrupted by the dual shouts of Lev and...Suga?
"Sa'amara! You're a life-saver." Lev beamed as Sawamara Daichi maneuvered through the crowded bar with Lev's wallet raised high in the air, an expression of pure tiredness etched across his face.
"Oh my god it's gym-shorts guy." Suga hissed into Sonoda's ear, face bright red and shoved into her shoulder. She clearly hadn't heard her friend approach and Sonoda jumped slightly at the touch. Kuroo watched her eyes pass over Sawamara, who was now thoroughly scolding Lev. A spark of mischief flashed across her face as she turned back to kuroo.
"That's your friend, Sawamara, right?" She asked with thinly veiled intent.
"Yeah, we've known each other since high school." Kuroo chanced a glance at Suga who was now not so subtly leaning into their conversation, "Real nice guy. He's a personal trainer, too. I mean, no one was surprised to find him going into a career where he could show off his thighs."
"Well," Sonoda added with another fox-like grin, "It behooves one to know their own assets." And just like that the light, fluttery feeling settled back into Kuroo's chest; content in the way that Sonoda can simply crack one joke and make the loud discomfort of his thoughts fade to quiet. Maybe, Kuroo reasoned, over time, being friends with Sonoda would feel like it used to—easy and without the sensation that things might have been something more.
"Yo Dai!" Kuroo called out, catching the tanned trainer's attention. "Stop humoring Lev and meet some people with more than half a brain."
"I hate you, Kuroo!" Lev barked with no bite.
At the sight of Sawamara's approach, Suga pulled himself out from Sonoda's shoulder and schooled his expression, though the pink tips of his ears remained. He took a brief moment to smooth down his silver hair, but as soon as he dropped his hands, it bounced back into it's naturally tousled shape. Kuroo sighed internally at his preening, as if Daichi wouldn't take one look at Suga and be smitten.
"Sawamara Daichi, my knight in shining gym shorts, meet my history friends Sonoda Ema and—"
"Sugawara Koushi. But call me Suga." Gone completely was the shy demure guy from three minutes ago. Suga had lept off his barstool and moved directly into Sawamara's field of vision.
"Nice to meet you. Hope Kuroo here hasn't corrupted you too much." Diachi gives them each a friendly wave and small bow.
"If anyone is doing any corrupting here, it's Oikawa." Sonoda laughed and gestured to the corner with the jukebox and a very intoxicated Oikawa grinding on a slightly shorter man with dark, spiked hair and arms that rivaled Daichi's thighs. It was clear from the look on both Daichi and Suga's faces that very soon Kuroo and Sonoda would find themselves outside of their bubble of conversation, and, Kuroo couldn't find it in himself to be upset about it. He could see Daichi for game night with Yaku, Lev, and Kenma any week. Half-sober conversations, pressed close in a dimly lit bar with Sonoda, however, were a much rarer and fleeting thing. At least, he could have enjoyed the moment for a little longer if Miya Atsumu and the frankly terrifying wing spiker from the Black Jackals hadn't sauntered over and interrupted.
"Em-chaaaan," Miya whined, sinking his head into her shoulder much in the same way Suga had not long ago. Kuroo mused that there must be something magical about resting one's head there, jealousy and curiosity flaring in his stomach. Why everyone but me? "'M tired 'n that tall bastard won't gimme 'nother drink." Miya huffed and the wing spiker with the mask rolled his eyes.
"Oh wow, you must be pretty far gone if you're this clingy already." Sonoda quipped, pushing Miya's forehead out of her space with the palm of her hand.
"I'm sorry about this. We were just about to leave but he wanted to say good night to you first, Sonoda-san."
"It's okay, Kiyoomi-kun. I know you'll take good care of him." Sonoda transferred a limp Miya so that his weight was now resting fully on the other man.
"Omi-omi 's the best at takin' care o' me. 'S why you like that I like that he likes it, eh Em-chan?" Miya's accent thickened to an almost incomprehensible drawl. This 'omi-omi' sighed heavily and rolled his eyes again. Seemed to be his favorite thing to do.
"'Tsumu, that made no fucking sense." Sonoda laughed. "Make sure you drink water and call me tomorrow when you're too hungover to bother anyone else. And don't throw up in the hotel room because I'm not in the mood to help Kiyoomi-kun bury your body." Kuroo wondered, with not a small glimmer of hope, why Sonoda's fiancé would stay at a hotel and not her place. Perhaps she was more traditional than he'd thought and was saving that for marriage? For all their Tuesday afternoon coffee dates, Kuroo still didn't know all that much about her, if that was the sort of thing that she was want to do. She yawned big and loud as Miya and Kiyoomi—no, Sakusa, if Kuroo remembered correctly—exited the bar, the taller one bearing most of Miya's weight.
"I'm probably going to head out, too." Sonoda said and tipped back the last of her drink.
"Are you okay to get home by yourself?" Kuroo watched as she stumbled slightly to get off of the barstool.
She hummed and looked around the bar, giving a small wave to those around them signaling her departure.
"Walk me home?"