Black Coffee (Like Your Soul)

Chapter 2

Present time

At his apartment, Atsumu left the hot steaming shower clad in only gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, lounging on the couch as he mindlessly scrolled on his Instagram feed. He liked a few posts from his high school friends ('Look at these idiots fighting lmao'), but his thumb froze mid-scroll as he recognized a post.

His gaze slowly slid over to the username, and he might have strained a muscle from how fast he sat up straight to angle his head better.

'I'll admit, their coffee is good.'
[Insert photo of Cafe Miya, the sunlight hitting the windows perfectly, casting an almost heavenly ambiance around the building.]

Not wanting to believe his own eyes, he clicked on his profile and, indeed, there it was, his post glaring back at him. Was this a fever dream?

He eyed the comments and likes the post got and almost doubled over in shock. It had thousands of likes in under a day, and that fact in itself was surprising.

He frantically opened the official account for Cafe Miya - Osamu told him to make one - and saw his followers had drastically increased tenfold. Previously, he had a small amount of followers, probably a thousand or less, but now it has skyrocketed to 50k.

It brought an overwhelming amount of joy, yes (Kiyoomi didn't need to) - but he realized as his eyes started drooping that he really needed a rest. He turned off his phone as he stood up and walked the path towards his bedroom. It was a modest room, with a bed big enough to accompany a person his size.

He flopped down face-first on the bed and let out a sigh of relief as he practically melted into the mattress. The effect was instantaneous as he drifted into soundless dreams accompanying him for the duration of the night, with brief glimpses of his.. his...

He woke up, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. His.. what? He groggily checked the time and saw, with the clock glaring back at him, that it was still early - maybe 1 A.M.? He sighed and tried to get back to sleep, but he couldn't help but think about where the dream left off.

Atsumu didn't know why when he awoke, he felt a residue feeling of soft lips on his. He rubbed a hand over his face, sitting up on the bed and tilting his head back. He stared at the ceiling above him, a blush creeping up his neck up until the roots of his hair. Damn that man.

He smothered that feeling away, leaving it deep in its cave until he was sure it wouldn't affect him again. He was about to fall asleep, and all was fine, save for the slight gay panic he had. He ended up staying awake. The whole night.

He hadn't had a dream like that in years - it was like high school all over again. It was uncanny - one person shows up and he starts acting up again, like... like a school boy with a crush.

That realization made him blush even more if that were possible, the lingering feeling of lips on his, even if for a second.

A sudden knock from his door snapped him out of his delusions.

Right. He and Osamu planned to meet up today to discuss sibling shit (mostly restaurant, and Osamu's engagement with Suna.)

Oh well, he sighed as he untangled himself from the covers, stumbling over himself before leaving the comfortable premises of his room and unlocking the front door, showing an expectant Osamu.

He reluctantly let his twin inside his studio apartment, reveling in all its clean(ish) glory.

Osamu inspected the place if it was to his liking, then just half shrugged. "I expected you t'be a better cleaner, but I guess this is alright. Except those briefs of yers, fuckin' get 'em off-" He pointed to the couch where a forgotten article of underwear lays untouched for probably the past few days. He was busy with his work after all.

"Eh, tomorrow is cleaning day, and my off day. I'll jus' fix that tomorrow."

His twin sighed, before rolling his eyes.

"Yer always like tha', always stowin' yer problems away 'til the next days to come, jus' to end up not doin' it." Ouch, that had hurt way more than what Atsumu anticipated, but he just waved it off

"Me? Samu, yer in no place to say that, ya postponed yer marriage proposal with Rin for, what, 2 years?" Osamu easily got red, from embarrassment or anger, or maybe both.

"Says the guy who got chicken feet at the last second with confessin' his love for his 'Omi'."

It went on like that for a while, continuous bickering between the siblings and petty arguments that had no sense. How nice it feels to have some normalcy in life, Atsumu thinks, still cursing out his brother.

Eventually, the quarrel toned down as they both took their seats, sitting opposite of each other.

"So, wha' happen now, Tsumu? You look more.. er, stressed, I'd say." Osamu commented skeptically. He eyed Atsumu worriedly/disgustedly, taking the time to observe his body language, his posture, his expression, anything that he can decipher from his twin.

The twin in question had stress painting his face leaving it gaunt in its wake, not unlike that of an aged man. "Who, me? 'M not stressed, been the best I was since highschool. 'M happy actually, profit's been good since Kiy- since a, uh, star player visited."

Osamu raised both eyebrows meaning to say, 'Wow, who I wonder that could be.' Nevertheless, he leaned back in his chair and gestured for him to go on and talk about his day, as if he was some sort of special therapist and he needed to hear all the details, when Osamu couldn't give two flying fucks. But, for his brother, and for his business, he has to.

With this, Atsumu continued on hesitantly. "The firs' day was alright, a few customers in the mornin' as soon as I opened, a few people commenting about us," he gestured between himself and Osamu, "and said they know me from somewhere, or that I look familiar." This brought a smile on his face. He cleared his throat.
"And, anyway, when the day continued, I guess it spread word that a new stall had opened, and people were filing inside and out. 'T was busy the whole week like tha'. How do ya deal with it, 'Samu?" He was silent as he looked at his younger twin across him, staring off into space as he processed all of what he said.

"Well, don't take if from me, 'm not an expert on this shit jus' yet, but what I think is that ya better get your A game on, and give it your all, jus' like you would for volleyball. And, ya know, have enough energy in the day first, and know all the recipes by hand to make it efficient, yap yap. Ya get me now?"

Atsumu feigned understanding as he placed his palm under his chin and nodded to himself. "Yeah... Yeah!" He looked at his brother and grinned. "From what ya sayin', I got that yer a really bad instructor- OW WHAT THE HELL 'SAMU?!"

He then threw back the pillow which was thrown at him earlier by Osamu, and proceeded to turn into another petty talk between the two in between thrashing the other's face with the cushion, and throwing out reckless and careless comments collected over the years.