𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑 - 𝐦. 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝟒𝟐

<3

you were frustrated. for the past weeks, you were frustrated. you couldn't count the amount of times you'd pulled at your hair and stared at your phone, waiting to hear something from atsumu—a reconciliation text, an apology, a 'hi', anything.

you never got anything, of course.

and now you were at their practice, forced to watch him be his undoubtedly talented self. you couldn't tell if it annoyed you even more or if maybe it softened you a little.

you huffed out a small breath as you pushed the ball cart towards the edge of the gym where coach kurosu was barking out orders.

you seriously couldn't have picked a worse time to become an assistant manager. you needed space, needed time to think, but it was impossible. you could feel atsumu's gaze burning into you from across the court at every practice.

you always tried not to look back at him because you knew that's what he wanted, but you couldn't help it.

you would only do it when he wasn't paying attention to you. that didn't change the fact that you did it at all though.

-

the sound of squeaking shoes and shouts filled the gym. coach kurosu had tasked you with logging practice stats, but you'd gotten distracted by him.

it was stupid, really. you should've been ignoring atsumu by now, should've accepted the fact that he was a complete douche, but somehow, you found yourself watching every little thing he did.

you watched him adjust his hair between plays, watched him hype up his teammates whenever they got a good hit, watched him fix his knee pads. you just couldn't seem to stop.

it didn't matter how much you didn't want to look at him, your eyes would always wandered towards him and every time they did, something coiled in your gut.

you scolded yourself before turning back to your stats sheet, scribbling down a tally you weren't sure was right.

at some point, kurosu gave them a water break. you stayed in your spot on the bench, writing some notes down in the margins of the paper. and for once, you were so focused that you couldn't feel atsumu's eyes on you.

the boys were all messing around, laughing and slapping one another with their gross sweat towels. meanwhile, atsumu pretended to adjust his kneepads, but his eyes never left you.

he clenched his jaw, contemplating whether he should get up and try to talk to you. if he didn't do it now there would never be a better time to do it, he would put it off for so long that at some point it would've been like, why bother?

so he inhaled sharply and walked over to you. "hey."

you ignored him, flipping through your stats before writing down more notes.

atsumu stared down at you, his face pinching into an incredulous look. "y/n." his voice was firmer this time, though there was a hint of frustration in it.

still nothing.

you didn't want to give in, didn't want to meet his eyes because you knew you would crack.

atsumu scoffed. "are you seriously ignoring me?"

your hand stilled, the pencil going slack in your grip.

are you kidding me?

were you ignoring him? he wasn't serious, was he?—saying it like it was some great offense, saying it like he wouldn't even meet your eyes for weeks.