#skts | rain, confessions, letters
-ˋˏ ༻ #sktsspring ༺ ˎˊ-

Kiyoomi made a promise to himself that he’d do it on the first day of spring.

Today is that day. Today, he will confess his undying love to his longtime crush — or something along those lines.

He stands in front of his bathroom mirror, fidgeting with his school’s uniform tie. It’s choking him, but it’s not tight enough.

His curls are messier than usual, his blazer is all wrinkled from being in his gym bag all night, and he has to wear his backup pants which are about two inches too short +

because the pants he usually wears are stained thanks to none other than the object of his affection: Miya Atsumu.

Alright, so maybe he’ll just write a letter instead. Nobody said confessions have to be done orally and in person.

He’ll just stick the letter in Atsumu’s gym bag when he isn’t looking and run away.

Yep. That’s exactly what he’s going to do.

With a determined nod to his reflection in the mirror, Kiyoomi exits the restroom and heads over to his desk, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen.

/Dear Atsumu…/

What is he supposed to say in a confession letter anyway? How does he put his like (love?) for Miya Atsumu into words?

/Dear Atsumu…/

Kiyoomi knows that whatever is on the page won’t really matter. Kiyoomi knows that once Atsumu sees the envelope, he will know it’s from Kiyoomi and he won’t even bother looking at the contents inside, opting to throw his arms around the boy's neck instead.

/Dear Atsumu…/

Really, Kiyoomi shouldn’t even bother with the letter. He and Atsumu understand each other just fine — it’s why he’s so confident Atsumu will accept his confession in the first place.

But for once, Kiyoomi wants to not be a dunce. For once, Kiyoomi would like to not be an emotionally stunted 18 year old and actually say what he means to say.

/Dear Atsumu…/

At this rate, Kiyoomi isn’t going to make it to school on time. Which would be perfect for him considering his dilemma with writing this stupid letter, but he remembers the promise he made to himself, and he can’t play hooky. Maybe if the circumstances were different.

He grabs the paper off of his desk and folds it, tucks it into his jacket pocket for safe keeping. Thankfully, he and Atsumu don’t share a class, but they always eat lunch together, so Kiyoomi will have to finish writing up his letter by then.

—

Walking towards his classroom, Kiyoomi hears the ugliest laugh echo throughout the halls, and his mood sours.

/Motoya.

Taking a deep breath, he walks into the room. Komori takes one look at him before he bursts out into laughter.

“Fuck you,” Kiyoomi grumbles.

He settles in his own seat, foregoing his classroom material in favor of the piece of paper burning holes in his chest. He unfolds it and places it on his desk.

/Dear Atsumu…/

Is there such a thing as a confession guide? A format? A template that he can follow for this?

/Dear Atsumu…/

At this point, does he even like Atsumu? What kind of person is he, what kind of boyfriend would he even be, if he can’t even put these simple feelings on paper?

/Dear —/

“Kiyo, what are you doing?” Motoya asks, pulling Kiyoomi from his thoughts.

“Nothing. Leave me alone,” Kiyoomi snaps.

This does nothing to deter his cousin, and Motoya grins, gearing up to torment Kiyoomi even more.

“Aw Kiyoomi! Is that a /love letter/?”

Kiyoomi cannot deal with this right now. He refolds the letter and places it back into his jacket pocket, pointedly ignoring the question.

“It’s okay Kiyo,” Komori says airily. “ Just speak from the heart — or I guess in your case, you brain? Either way, he’ll say yes. You guys are weirdly perfect for each other.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at him but underneath his mask, fights back a smile.

—

Kiyoomi is losing his patience. And, he’s running out of time.

For some reason, Kiyoomi's teachers thought it’d be a good idea to actually teach today, and he had no breaks in between lessons and busy work.

It’s now lunchtime and he hasn’t made any progress on this stupid letter that he wants to give to Stupid Atsumu.

Stupid Atsumu, who is running up the stairs two at a time just to catch up to Kiyoomi, so they can walk up to the roof together.

“Omi,” he whines, or at least, he tries too. It’s broken up by Atsumu’s huffs — proof he’s overworking himself for no reason. Kiyoomi stopped as soon as he heard his footsteps behind him. “Why do ya never wait for me?”

“I’m waiting right now,” he deadpans. “Can you hurry up?”

“So grumpy,” Atsumu mutters, but continues climbing the stairs (one at a time now).

When they get up to their regular spot, Kiyoomi tries to fall back into their usual banter, +

but his mind is too occupied with the folded up note in his pocket.

He hasn’t made any progress on it at all, how is he going to get it to Atsumu before the end of the day?

Whenever he has that godforsaken paper in front of him, he can’t think of a single nice thing about Atsumu that he wants to say.

It’s easier to think of things to say while in his proximity, +

but Kiyoomi does not need Atsumu getting a peek at the atrocious letter he’s drafting before he absolutely has to.

Gosh, he’s not going to be able to do this, is he?

(tweet limit)

A loud bang interrupts Kiyoomi’s thoughts, and he jolts. Of course, Atsumu laughs at him. He wouldn’t be Atsumu if he didn’t — that’s something Kiyoomi likes about him. He isn’t afraid to tease and poke fun.

“Omi-Omi yer such a scaredy-cat.”

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi grumbles, but he’s smiling too.

“Atsumu?” a timid voice calls from up above. Both Atsumu and Kiyoomi pause, Atsumu’s hand coming to rest on Kiyoomi’s thigh.

“Uh yeah that’s me,” Atsumu responds.

“I have something to give you,” the girl says, tucking blonde strands behind her ear. Kiyoomi recognizes her immediately; she’s a second year assistant manager for their team, but he doubts Atsumu knows this.

“Okay,” Atsumu says, making no move to get up. “What is it?”

“Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Why?” Atsumu questions.

The girl pauses, eyes flicking back and forth between Kiyoomi and Atsumu, and it clicks. Kiyoomi stifles a grin around his food.

“She wants to give you a confession letter,” Kiyoomi says.

“What!” Atsumu whips his head in Kiyoomi’s direction so quickly he fears he may have pulled a muscle. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Kiyoomi responds, grin becoming wider by the second.

“Oh, well I can’t accept it Omi!”

Kiyoomi chokes on his food and looks at Atsumu aghast. “Don’t tell me that!” he yells. “Tell her!”

Atsumu looks back up at the girl and Kiyoomi honest-to-god believes he forgot she was there. What an idiot.

/His/ idiot soon, if he manages to get his shit together and write a confession of his own.

“It’s okay!” The girl rushes to speak before Atsumu can properly reject her. “Sorry to bother you!” she bows.

Just as quickly as she came, the girl is gone, leaving Atsumu and Kiyoomi to their devices.

“You are such a dork,” Kiyoomi laughs.

“Shut up Omi,” Atsumu grumbles. “I dunno what she was thinkin’ confessin’ to me anyways.”

Kiyoomi snorts. “Do you even know who she is?”

“No.”

“She’s one of the assistant managers for the team,” Kiyoomi informs him.

At this, Atsumu laughs. “Not anymore. She’ll probably never wanna show her face in the gym again after this.”

—

School is over. School has been over for twenty minutes now. School is over, practice is starting, and Kiyoomi has not made any progress on his confession at all.

It’s starting to look like he’s just going to have to speak from the heart.

The day’s almost over and Kiyoomi is /not/ going to break this promise to himself.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no’,” Motoya snorts.

Kiyoomi sighs. “I don’t know what to write,” he admits.

“How about ‘Dear Atsumu, I like you. Go out with me’.”

“You’re no help. Go do your warmups or something, get out of my sight.”

Kiyoomi turns back to where he was putting on his knee pads and is promptly interrupted again, though this time, it’s welcomed.

Atsumu plops down on the bench beside Kiyoomi, sighing.

Kiyoomi looks at him through the corner of his eye, and when he offers up no other reaction, Atsymu sighs again, louder this time.

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “What’s up Atsumu?”

“Thank god ya asked,” Atsumu says, relief coloring his tone. “The managers won’t stop glarin’ at me. Whoever that girl was must’ve said somethin’ real mean about me Omi.”

Kiyoomi tries not to laugh, he really does.

It’s really not funny. Kiyoomi knows that if he were in that girl’s shoes, he’d be heartbroken, badmouthing Atsumu to his fr— Motoya too.

“Sorry, it really isn’t funny,” Kiyoomi says, trying not to laugh harder. “What do you need me to do?”

“I dunno, go give them yer scary, evil-man face or somethin’.” Atsumu shrugs and Kiyoomi glares at him. He does not —

“Yeah! That one!” Atsumu cheers. “Please Omi, go scare them for me?”

Kiyoomi sucks his teeth and snaps Atsumu’s knee pads against his skin, making him yelp.

“I’m doing this for me, not you,” Kiyoomi says while he gets up, not offering any explanation as to what he could possibly gain from doing this.

“Yer the best Omi,” Atsumu says, jumping up to hug Kiyoomi from behind.

“Yeah yeah,” Kiyoomi grumbles, continuing to walk out of the locker room and making no move to push Atsumu off.

When they walk out, Kiyoomi has to fight against every muscle in his body to not let the smile wanting to break out show. Their two managers are creating a circle around the broken-hearted assistant manager and her friend, not even concealing their disdain for both boys.

“I think they’re poisonin’ the water Omi.”

Kiyoomi snorts. “If anyones gonna poison you it’ll be me. I won’t let anyone else poison you.”

“Aw Omi,” Atsumu croons, “that sounded almost romantic!”

“Do you find murder romantic?”

“If yer the one murderin’ me I do.”

Kiyoomi hums as if thinking about it. “Okay,” he says, walking towards the group of girls. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Omi please don’t murder me,” Atsumu says gravely, but Kiyoomi is no longer listening.

Maybe if the letter doesn’t work out, Kiyoomi can just…lovingly poison Atsumu.

—

(tweet limit again)

Practice is over, Atsumu is in the showers, and Kiyoomi is staring at a blank letter, wondering, not for the first time, if he is going to break a promise.

It’s not that Kiyoomi doesn’t actually like Atsumu — he really does.

No matter how much he’s tried to deny it, that boy has a hold on Kiyoomi. There is no one else Kiyoomi would go through so much grief for. There is no one else Kiyoomi would willingly sit on the ground and eat lunch with.

There is no one else Kiyoomi would let hang off of them for god knows how long, while he glares and /kindly/ tells a group of girls to leave their drama at the door.

Kiyoomi likes Atsumu. A lot.

He likes him so much that he would write a stupid letter for him, but apparently, he likes him so much that no matter how badly he wants to write the stupid letter, he can’t.

Because /he/ may like Atsumu, and his heart may beat for Atsumu, but his brain either doesn’t like him, or does, but just does not care.

“You ready Omi?”

He just might have to wing it this time. He can write letters on their anniversary or something.

“Yeah, come on,” Kiyoomi says, quickly folding the letter back up and gathering their things.

—

Kiyoomi is dragging his feet. He knows he’s dragging his feet. But once he and Atsumu split, it’s over. Once he makes that left and Atsumu keeps walking straight, Kiyoomi will have missed his chance.

He knows he can’t wait any longer. He’s got no letter so he’s just going to have to speak from the heart. Kiyoomi has never been good with words, but he’s always been blunt, so maybe this time, it will do him some favors.

Kiyoomi stops walking, causing Atsumu to turn to him, confusion written all over his features.

“Omi? You good?”

He nods, retrieving the paper from his pocket. “Here,” he says, handing the incomplete letter to Atsumu.

Atsumu takes it, eyeing it warily.

“It’s not poisoned, it's /paper/,” Kiyoomi stresses, inwardly rolling his eyes. Is this really the guy his heart chose to love? Insane, really.

“Mhm ya can never be too sure.” Atsumu opens up the letter and stares. “'Dear Atsumu',” he reads out loud. He flips the paper over, looking to see if there are any other words written but he comes up empty.

“‘Dear Atsumu’ what?” Atsumu looks at Kiyoomi then, and suddenly, this is the easiest thing he’s ever had to do in his life.

“That was supposed to be your confession letter,” he says, “from me to you, but I couldn’t think of anything else to write.” Kiyoomi shrugs his shoulders.

“Why the hell would ya write me a letter? Ya know I wouldn’t read it.”

“I know. I think that was the plan. I just wanted to get my feelings out, but it backfired, because I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.”

Atsumu hums, looking Kiyoomi up and down. “Well can ya think of somethin’ now? It ain’t a proper confession if ya don’t spill yer guts.” Atsumu grins his shit-eating grin, and Kiyoomi resists the urge to wipe it off of his face — with his lips preferably.

“Well you’re incredibly annoying,” Kiyoomi starts, and Atsumu scoffs.

“Yer startin’ off really well Omi-Omi.”

“I know,” he responds. “Don’t interrupt me.”

Atsumu puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry your highness, the floor is yours.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and continues. “You’re really annoying, but you’re the only person I don’t mind being annoyed by. I don’t like touch, and yet, I let you touch me all the time.”

Kiyoomi notices the way Atsumu’s grin gets softer around the edges, +

the way his eyes crinkle at the corners — something Kiyoomi has come to learn as the smile Atsumu reserves for him and him only. He continues despite the fluttering in his chest.

“You always make my days better, even if you don’t realize it. You’re a jerk, you’re an asshole, I’m a jerk, I’m an asshole. We fit.”

“That we do,” Atsumu says softly, and Kiyoomi smiles.

“Atsumu, I like you. A lot. Maybe even love you…my heart certainly acts like it loves you,” he mutters. “You are perfect and amazing and my favorite person in the whole entire world. Hurry up and accept my feelings.”

“Wow Omi,” Atsumu lilts, stepping towards Kiyoomi until they’re face to face, noses almost touching. “It really does sound like ya love me. Yer so poetic, ya know that?”

“Mmm no one’s ever told me that before.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep remindin’ ya then.”

“Is this your way of accepting my confession?”

“No,” Atsumu says, “this is.” And then he kisses Kiyoomi.

It's soft; it’s chaste; it’s innocent, but when he kisses Kiyoomi, it’s like the world stops. It’s as if no one exists but them. Atsumu makes Kiyoomi feel like they are the only two people in the world, like as long as they’re together, they can do anything.

When they pull away, Kiyoomi loses himself in pools of liquid amber. How they sparkle in the light, how they reflect every emotion Kiyoomi feels back to him.

How they seem to swallow Kiyoomi whole, engulfing him, encasing him, until his whole world is nothing but amber, nothing but honey, nothing but gold.

Something wet drops onto Kiyoomi’s forehead, pulling him from his reverie.

(tweet limit again but dw I'm almost done)

“It’s raining,” Kiyoomi whispers, keeping his eyes locked on Atsumu’s.

“It is.”

“We have to go home or we’ll get sick.”

“We could do that. Or,” Atsumu says, already stepping back and dropping his bag on a covered bench, “we could run around; have our movie moment.”

Kiyoomi glares at him, or, at least he tries to. The smile on his face undermines any distaste for this idea he could have shown.

He grabs Atsumu’s hand and runs. He runs and Atsumu laughs his glittery, wind chime laugh, the sound warming Kiyoomi from the inside out, despite the chill from the rain.

They run and run, no destination in sight, content to be running with one another.

Kiyoomi is glad that this is the boy his heart chose to love.

//fin!

thanks for reading this! hope you liked it. let's pretend i posted this on april 14th okay and not 1am on the 15th okay? alright.

Link to the top :p

https://twitter.com/amoriemiya/status/1647099443773075457