Cherry Picking「SAKUATSU」✔

4

Miya Atsumu knew how to drive.

His car, apparently, did not.

Kiyoomi had never regretted something more in his twenty years on this God forsaken planet than he did getting into Miya's car that morning.

Unsurprisingly, Miya had coerced and manipulated him into doing it, and because Miya Atsumu was chalking up to be satan himself, had lured him in with a false sense of security. Kiyoomi had assumed that it would be fine; Miya had driven them to the kissaten only four days prior, and nothing had gone wrong.

Oh, how naive Kiyoomi had been.

"I can't believe we have to take a bus, because of you," He muttered darkly, as the two of them waited at the bus stop. It was raining again, and this time Kiyoomi had brought two umbrellas.

"How is it my fault that my car broke down?" Miya asked, and glared at Kiyoomi from under the spare umbrella (because of course Miya didn't bring one).

Kiyoomi shrugged, "Maybe if you took better care of your things they wouldn't combust as soon as you put the key in the fucking ignition." Okay, so he was a little bitter, but he had to take the bus.

"My car did not combust," Miya said, and rolled his eyes, "The battery died. I just need to get a new one."

"Well, I hope you don't ask someone to drive you to get it, because clearly that's too much to ask."

Kiyoomi had made the mistake of asking Miya if he could drive him to the sports store that most of the college volleyball team frequented. The shoes he used for almost every practice had started getting a little too tight, and he had planned on getting new ones.

He would have usually asked Motoya to drive him, but he was ignoring him. Kiyoomi wasn't totally mad at him anymore, but he needed to make sure his cousin had learned his lesson. He was giving it another week before he had to talk to Motoya again. Miya wasn't so lucky. Ever since Suna found out that Miya 
knew about him and Osamu, they no longer kept the PDA to a minimum. Now, Miya hung out with Kiyoomi twice as much as he had before, just to avoid accidentally walking in on them making out again.

"Whatever," Miya mumbled, and the two of them watched the bus turn the corner in silence.

The screech of the tires rang loudly in Kiyoomi's ears, as the bus pulled to a stop. With a cough, Kiyoomi held the sleeve of his jacket up to his face mask and tried to bat away the black smoke that leaked out of the bus. "Gross," He said. Kiyoomi then closed up his umbrella and (very, very reluctantly) followed Miya through the glass door.

Because Kiyoomi had probably the worst luck known to man, the bus was full. What did he expect during the mid afternoon on a weekday? 

He hunched his shoulders, and tried to avoid touching the people in the seats, and the people holding onto the railing above his head.

Kiyoomi bumped into Miya's back when he stopped next to the emergency door near the back, and Miya lifted his arm up to grab onto the railing.

"I'm not touching that," Kiyoomi hissed, and Miya shrugged.

"Do whatcha want, Omi," He said. "Not my problem."

Before Kiyoomi could come up with his own crabby reply, a man brushed past him. Kiyoomi arched his back to avoid the man's sharp elbow, and he watched with a sick tingling in his skin as the guy sneezed into his hand. Kiyoomi scrunched up his nose, and took a step closer to Miya, to try and avoid looking at the guy. Unfortunately, he still managed to catch sight of the man's hand –the same one he had just sneezed into– grab the railing.