Drop your Mask (Atsumu X reader)

4- Puppy-like

The ball is flying to the ride side in a wide swing, and Atsumu follows it with his eyes in an inconspicuous way, trying to render Suna’s block reading useless. He takes a large step to the left, following after the floating ball. He turns his ankles in the perfect degree to angle his body forward, readying himself to spike. He can sense Suna and Osamu getting ready to block, his brother’s teeth clinched together in annoyance, knowing his twin will do something completely unexpected.

Atsumu smirks to himself.

Just as the ball brushes the tips of his fingers, Atsumu changes the curve of his body so his back is to the net. He lifts his second arm upwards and easily sets the ball back to Aran instead of spiking it, and Aran, who somehow manages to read Atsumu’s mind, rushes forward to smack the ball down. The loud thud the ball made in the other side of the net, plus their coach’s whistle blowing made Atsumu’s guts swirl with unadulterated happiness. He rushes to give Aran a high-five which the dark man returned with a small smile.

“How about that, Aran? The guy on my team always wins. That should make you quite happy to be partnered with me today, huh?” Atsumu brags loudly, jumping around like a fox on cocaine.

“I'd have been happy with anyone, Atsumu,” says Aran with a sigh, “but I guess I particularly enjoy it when you’re in my team. Sometimes I can’t read your mind, but I like the times when I do.”

Atsumu's face is swollen with smugness. Aran doesn’t usually compliment him – or anyone – because Atsumu’s a major narcissistic (and he knows it) but he appreciates the times when he do. Plus, Aran is naturally quiet, so seeing him talk and with praise makes Atsumu giddy.

He turns to Osamu with that flattered, smug smile on, “Didja hear that, Samu?”

Osamu sighs out loud, as if he’s exhausted of the simple existence of Atsumu. “I knew you were going to make something stupid today, Tsumu.”

“It’s not stupid if it won the game for me.” Atsumu brags. Yes, he does not have the word we in his vocabulary. Osamu and Suna ignore him because they know if they entertained this strip of thought of his, it’ll be a long night before Atsumu can shut his mouth, regardless if they said negative or positive things.

The coach jumps down from the chair he’s been standing on and goes to scold Suna and Osamu about how obvious Atsumu was being and yet, they fell for his trick, like they always do. Atsumu listens with an amused, entertained snicker, and Aran leaves him to take a swig of his bottle with a shake of his head.

The practice continues for a long while, and every minute that ticks away only makes Atsumu’s heart beats faster. If there’s one thing he likes the most, is that the more tired he gets, the more stamina his body seems to acquire, like some kind of a machine. His muscles scream with tension, yet they only get swifter, agile in the sense of a cat climbing up larger trees that it saw in its life. Osamu told him once that his pancreas is monstrous, and that it releases more energy than the human body is able to create in a single day. Despite the intended insult, Atsumu was happy to be called monstrous because it lifted him up higher on the human scale. He considers this a talent of his. Being above people.

His teammates, however, only get exhausted and exhausted, like normal people, so after two hours of practice, the coach finally lets them rest. Atsumu grumbles in disgruntlement, and Osamu kicks him on the underside of his knees as he passes him by, making his body buckle. Thankfully, the man is as swift as a Bengal tiger, so he manages to hold himself up. He reaches over and smacks Osamu’s head. The twin pauses and turns around to growl at his brother. Atsumu doesn’t hesitate to growl back.

“I’ll let you stay back and wipe every single mikasa ball we have in the storage room if you fight again.” Kita Shinsuke, their captain, comments casually as he walk past them. The twins turn into stiff boards right away.