𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝.
❝ in which you piece together the fragments of your past...
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Never in his life had Atsumu felt this amount of peeve.
Peeved he was when your old high school friends appeared out of fucking nowhere like some fantasy heroes on white horses to save the day (he still hasn't forgotten that they literally pointed their guns at him which tainted their roles into villainous ones for a split second); peeved he was when you asked to follow them back to their base and Atsumu had no valid reason to say no, and fucking peeved he was when you fainted and that Oikawa guy asked to stay with you alone until you woke up.
To his credit, Oikawa had been unobjectionably civil and polite with his request, such that Atsumu once again, couldn't really say no. But that only pushed his head further into the suspicion that pooled the moment Oikawa's eyes landed on you. It was akin to watching the climax of a tragic rom-com remake of Romeo and Juliet. The way both you and Oikawa were stunned beyond words, like fate had exercised some divine intervention to bring two lovers together after mountains of obstacles tearing them apart.
Ex-lovers. Atsumu had to correct himself on that. You and Oikawa were a thing of the past, and you barely retained any memories of the brunette to succumb to sentimental grief over a failed relationship. At least, that's what Atsumu hoped, because he couldn't exactly verify the extent of your amnesia and feelings (end of the day, he was at the mercy of your honesty).
