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"Hey, don'tcha think it's weird how skinny Shimimi's been lately?"
Osamu sits up in his bed, staring at their sleeping friend before nodding. "Yeah. He's been sleepin' over a lot more, too. Ya don't think it's his pops, do ya?" His twin rolls over, nearly falling off the bed before catching himself. "Who else could it be? Ma's always tryin' ta get him to keep, but he keeps denyin' her in his people pleaser voice."
"No, I'm alright, thank ya, Miss Miya." Atsumi mimics, huffing and muttering under his breath, "He's lucky his stupid voice sounds cute. Woulda beat 'im up if it wasn't." Osamu stares. "You couldn't beat Shimimi up if you tried. Yer too busy tryin' ta kiss him all the damn time. It's gross."
Atsumu flushes. "AM NOT!"
"ATSUMU, GO TO BED!" Their ma replies instantly.
Atsumu glares at his twin before sticking his middle finger in his face. "I fuckin' hate you. I do not wanna kiss Y/N. He's probably got cooties."
The other snorts. "Yeah, and I'm the prime minister of Japan. You wanna kiss him so bad it makes ya look stupid." He teases, snickering and moving out of the way of the pillow his twin threw. Osamu isn't stupid, and Atsumu can't keep his mouth shut. He's very aware of the massive crush his twin has on their friend, and he can't blame him. Y/N is pretty, too sympathetic for his own good, and sweet to a fault, all details Atsumu loved in people. In truth, Osamu had a small crush on him when they first met, but he sidelined his feelings when he first heard Atsumu tell Ma about his feelings for their friend. Besides, romantic feelings are complicated, and Osamu doesn't like how fuzzy they make his mind feel.
"You're gettin' me distracted, 'Samu. Worry paints his face as he shifts closer to his sleeping friend, lifting his arm and making a circle with his index finger and thumb around his wrist, brows knitted when his fingers touch. "See? This isn't normal. I'm supposed ta be the oldest among us three, and I can't figure out how I'm supposed ta help him, and it's so damn frustratin'. I wish I could help him, but I dunno how if he won't tell us anythin'."
Atsumu pauses when he feels Osamu's hand on his forearm, gently lowering it. Relax, 'Tsumu. Yer gonna worry yourself dead." He sighs and drops Y/N's hand. "I know. I'm just... worried, I guess. I dunno."
Osamu rolls his eyes. "Yeah, ya tend to do that a lot. C'mon, worryin' over it so much won't do anythin'. Let's just go to bed and ask Ma or Aran about it tomorrow. They'll probably know what to do."
Ever the overthinker, Atsumu's gaze lingers far too long, his lip wobbling before muttering, "...Darlin's not gonna die, is he?" He rambles through the silence. "I mean, he's been so weak lately— he barely runs or plays volleyball with us anymore, 'n anytime he comes over he's always cryin'."
