The way you hold me Omi-Omi

The bane of Omi's existence aka Atsumu fucking Miya

Hii
I have been obsessed with Sakuatsu since 2020 and finally after 4 years and after having read almost every fan fiction there is of them out there, I decided to write my own.
I really hope you enjoy this book!

Oh, and English isn't my first language, so keep that in mind.

Enjoy!

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In a dazzling display of poor life choices, Bokuto was so wasted that he thought it was a good idea to strip and dance on a table. Miya, not to be outdone, was passionately making out with a beer bottle, because apparently, that's a totally normal and socially acceptable thing to do. Hinata, in his infinite wisdom, was engaged in a heartfelt conversation with a potted plant, tears streaming down his face like he just found out he was adopted by the Ficus family.

And there I was, contemplating the mysteries of the universe by staring at a wall. A wall that, for some reason, seemed more enlightening than the company I found myself in.

And how did I end up here? Well, let's all take a moment to blame it on Miya. Because, of course, everything is his fault. The man is like a walking disaster magnet, and I, for some unfathomable reason, always get caught in his gravitational pull.

I could have been nested in the cozy embrace of my clean, comfortable bed, but no, thanks to Miya's ability to never shut up and mind how own business, here I was, perched on a germ-infested chair in a bar that probably had a higher bacteria count than a petri dish, surrounded by a bunch of drunken idiots.

I don't even know why I let myself be convinced to go anywhere with him. Perhaps enduring some awkward social interactions seemed more bearable than listening to his incessant whining. Little did I know, that night was going to be a one-way ticket to the ninth circle of social hell, courtesy of Hinata and his soap opera-level drama.

Apparently, Kageyama was engaged.

"What do you mean he's getting married, and he invited you?!" said Bokuto. Hinata, drowning his sorrows in a cocktail, replied with the sadness of a Shakespearean tragedy, "Yes...I called him to talk about our next game next week and he dropped the bomb on me. Like "Hey Sho...so I'm getting married this summer and I wanted to invite you myself. I'll give you the invitation next week. Hope you'll be there." Can you fucking believe him? After, all that gran confession he made before I went to Brazil he goes and marries another person right when I come back?"

Miya, ever the philosopher with his vodka, queried, "Who the heck is he marrying?" Hinata, on his sixth cocktail, wailed, "I don't know."

I, the silent observer, couldn't fathom Kageyama with anyone else. Because, let's face it, everyone thought Kageyama and Hinata were destined to end up together. Who in their right mind would voluntarily marry Kageyama? Except for Hinata of course.

Amid the chaos, Miya, the self-proclaimed ambassador of sensitivity, urged me to say something. "The hell am I supposed to say?" I retorted, shutting down their impending emotional eruption. "Don't start, you two," said Bokuto acting as if he was mature enough to be responsible.

Hinata, fueled by his heartbreak, declared, "We'll win the match, and then I'll spike a ball into his face next game and make sure to break his perfect nose."

Classic Hinata, turning heartbreak into a volleyball vendetta.

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Fast forward to the game, and true to his word, Hinata spiked a ball into Kageyama's face, prompting Bokuto to gleefully declare, "He actually did it!"

"Huh?" asked Inunaki.

"Very long story," I deadpanned.

The relentless battle with the Adlers continued, giving us a run for our money, but that's exactly what we craved - a challenge from our ideal opponents.