Chapter Text
Atsumu was rudely awakened by something annoying and probably stupid pushing up on his back.
“Tsumu, get outta bed ya lazy asshole.”
Ah yes, the annoying and definitely stupid thing was his equally annoying and stupid brother shoving the bottom of his mattress up from the bottom bunk.
“Why?” he grumbled and flipped over onto his stomach. He buried his head into his pillow and sighed. There was a subtle ache nagging at him on the left side of his head and he wanted it to go away.
“Cause Ma took the day off to do yard work and chores with us. It’s ‘sposed to be hot today so we said we’d do the yard work first thing. Remember? Or are you really that stupid?”
Osamu’s face popped up over the railing of Atsumu’s bed. His brother’s normal deadpan stare was accented by a single eyebrow raise of expectation.
Atsumu narrowed his eyes at him for a brief moment before groaning. He sat up and the pain in his head spread to encompass the rest of his head. Immediately, he was cranky.
“Fine. Just get outta my face,” Atsumu all but spit. Osamu’s face scrunched up, but he jumped down to the floor.
“What’s crawled up yer ass so early?” He mumbled, pulling on some athletic shorts. Atsumu wanted to respond with something snarky, but the pain in his head muddled his thoughts and he couldn’t think of anything clever enough.
“Screw you,” he settled on and crawled to the ladder to get out of bed. The headache would most likely go away after he ate something, so there was no need to say anything about it and risk getting teased.
Osamu eyed him, a frown on his face for a second. Then he scoffed.
“Alright assface. I’ll be downstairs. Ma made breakfast.” With that, he left the room.
Atsumu took his time getting dressed and ready for the day. He was moving slower thanks to the ache in his skull. The dumb headache also made his body feel tired and achy so he didn’t really feel the need to push things and make it worse.
“Good mornin’, Sweetheart!” His mother greeted when he finally made it to the kitchen. She was at the stove, flipping some pancakes, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a loose braid. She was already in work clothes. Atsumu had to admit that it was going to be nice to spend some time with his mom. Their father ran a small convenience store, so she had to work full time to help supplement that income. He was excited to spend time with either of his parents when he could, even if it was doing chores.
The twins had, of course, offered to get part time jobs. However, both of their parents shut down the idea quickly, telling them to focus on volleyball and “enjoying their youth.”
“Mornin’” he yawned and sat down across from Osamu at the table. He was already half way done eating and scrolled mindlessly through his phone. Atsumu tried to do the same, but the tiny words and the blue light from his phone only exacerbated his headache, so he sighed and gave up. Instead, he put his head down on his arms and waited for his mom to tell him to come get his food. After a minute, Osamu kicked his shin under the table.
“Oi, what’re ya doin’?” he asked roughly. Atsumu rolled his eyes and exhaled, annoyed.
“‘M tired. That alright with ya?” He glared at his brother. Osamu kept steady eye contact, rising to Atsumu’s challenge. The lights burned though, and Atsumu had to blink. He clicked his tongue and turned his head away.
“Yer bein’ weirder than normal,” Osamu said with his mouth full of pancake. Atsumu’s lip curled in disgust.
“Yer disgustin’.”
“Says the pig.”
“Listen—“
“Tsumu! Come get yer breakfast!” Miya-san interrupted. Osamu smirked at him, smug about getting the last word.
Atsumu sat down at the table with a single pancake, half a spoonful of scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. His mother gave him an earful about not eating enough and he was sure that Samu would do the same.
Osamu eyed his plate and then eyed Atsumu and then his breakfast again. His twin pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything, shoving more food in his mouth.
While Atsumu was grateful that his brother didn’t comment on his smaller-than-usual meal, he was incredibly suspicious of the lack of insults.
The truth was, Atsumu’s stomach felt…wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was because he didn’t feel sick persay, but he didn’t feel good either. Starting off with a smaller meal and going back for seconds was more appealing to him than having a plate full of food that his brother and mom would force him to eat.
Atsumu ate his meal in silence and hoped that it would help his headache and the strange feeling in his stomach before he had to spend all afternoon doing yard work in the blazing summer heat.
***
Osamu watched his brother weeding the flower bed with a careful eye. Something was wrong. He knew it from the moment Atsumu woke up. His stupid brother wouldn’t tell him anything (if he even registered it himself, the idiot) so the only thing he could do was keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t start crying or dying.
They’d been outside for about an hour and a half now, weeding, mowing the lawn, planting new flowers, and whatever else their mom wanted and it was only getting hotter. The sun wasn’t even directly above them yet, but the heat surrounded them like a thick blanket. It felt like Osamu was moving through a pool of jell-o while he pushed the lawn mower forward.
Osamu was sweating and panting ever so slightly, but Atsumu looked like he just returned from a grueling volleyball game. He was dripping sweat and his shoulders moved visibly up and down with each breath he took. Osamu figured that his brother was probably dehydrated and too stupid to admit it or too stupid to realize it.
“Tsumu,” Osamu called. Atsumu pulled his head up from the weeds and squinted at his brother across the lawn. He was pale, and all of Osamu’s twinstincts told him Atsumu needed to go inside quickly.
“Wanna go get lunch?” He tried, because Atsumu was dumb and wouldn’t admit that something was wrong, so Osamu needed to find some excuse for them to go inside. There, his mother would realize that something was up and force his brother to rest and hydrate.
“We just ate not that long ago. You that hungry, ya pig?” Came the snappy comeback. It had less bite to it than usual. The lack of venom from this and the weak comebacks from this morning only solidified for Osamu that his brother was not alright. That, coupled with the sheer amount of sweat and his continued heavy breaths made it seem like the idiot was dying or something.
“Screw you,” Osamu sneered (because even if something was wrong with his stupid brother he was still an unbearable asshole). “It’s hot and I’m working up more of a sweat. So yeah, ‘m hungry.” Atsumu waved him off lethargically.
“Then you go in. I’m almost done here,” Atsumu all but wheezed and turned back to the flower bed. Osamu took a deep breath and tried to remember that he was attempting to be a good brother and good brothers don’t punch their dying brothers in the face.
“Just come in and get some water then,” Osamu offered, walking to stand behind his brother. Atsumu looked over his shoulder, his ugly face contorted into confusion.
“Why’re you being so nice?”
Osamu squeezed his fist by his side.
“If you get dehydrated, I’ll have to play setter tomorrow at mornin’ practice and I don’t wanna.”
Hopefully the threat of being replaced, even if temporarily, would get Atsumu to see some sense. The longer Osamu studied him the more (begrudging) concern he felt. Now that he was closer, he noticed a glaze over Atsumu’s eyes and a flush to his cheeks.
Osamu surmised from this that his stupid idiot brother caught a summer cold like a stupid idiot.
Atsumu hesitated, but eventually, nodded. He put his hands on his knees to push himself up. Osamu let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. One battle down. Next he’d have to convince him to rest up some.
His relief was short-lived. As soon as Atsumu stood up, his knees buckled underneath him and he fell back onto Osamu heavily. Startled, Osamu just barely managed to keep his balance and catch him, holding Atsumu under his arms.
“What the fu–” he started, ready to lay into Atsumu, only to be stopped by the vacant look in his brother’s eyes. It was different from the haze he noticed just a second ago. It was like Atsumu wasn’t seeing anything. His eyes stared off blankly at nothing, half-lidded and foggy. He was still panting, but it was shallower, if possible.
The next thing Osamu noticed was how cool Atsumu’s skin felt, despite the intense heat and the flush of his cheeks. Atsumu, the dumbass, was indeed not okay.
“Tsumu? Hey, can you hear me?” Osamu asked. Atsumu’s eyes slowly found Osamu’s, but it still didn’t look like he registered anything. The only response he got was a whine.
“Shit. Yer so freakin’ stupid, you dumbass,” Osamu muttered. Atsumu groaned. There was no way he could get Atsumu into the house without help. Thankfully, the flower bed was near the front door, so he wouldn’t have to take him far, but the door was shut in an attempt to keep the hot air outside, so he needed help.
“Ma!” Osamu yelled, “Ma! C’mere, quick! Tsumu’s sick!” Atsumu winced at his brother’s volume.
“Sorry, ‘Tsumu, I’m sorry. Fuck. I can’t believe you–” Osamu said frantically, despite himself. He really didn’t like his brother, but he still loved him and this was still very scary.
Their mom was at the door a second later, concern already painted on her face. Upon noticing her one son all but unconsciousness, leaning on her other son, the concern grew to panic and she was outside and beside them in no time flat.
“What in the hell happened?” she asked, brushing Atsumu’s hair back. Her eyes widened when she no doubt picked up on the abnormal cool temperature of his brother’s skin.
“He’s been actin’ weird all mornin’. Then he came out here in this heat and I just convinced him to go inside for some water when he passed out. He’s so freakin’ stupid.” Osamu explained.
“Of course, the stubborn idiot. Let’s get him inside and cool him off,” his mother said, still holding Tsumu’s face.
“Yeah. I can do it, I just need yer help with the door and getting him on my back,” Osamu replied. The longer they were in this heat the more dangerous it became so they needed to move as quickly as they could without making things worse.
Together, they managed to get Atsumu on Osamu’s back.
“Hold on, idiot,” Osamu commanded. Atsumu buried his face into his brother’s shoulders. He weakly grabbed onto his wrist to keep his arms wrapped around Osamu’s shoulder. Relief trickled in to meet Osamu’s panic when he realized that meant that Atsumu may be coming to just a little. Yeah
As soon as they were inside, their mom went to the kitchen to get some water and wet rags while Osamu took his imbecile brother to the couch. He laid him down, putting his feet up on the arm rest (all the boys on the volleyball team knew how to deal with heat exhaustion) and brought the fan closer. He sat on the floor beside Atsumu’s feet and waited for him to come back.
Miya-san came back a second later with a sports drink and several wash cloths. She placed one on Atsumu’s forehead and he sighed (Osamu was once again relieved that his brother seemed to be registering at least a little of his surroundings). The others she used to pat down his arms and legs.
The next few minutes were tense and silent as they waited for the idiot of the bunch to cool down and return to the land of the fully conscious.
“Sa-Samu?” Atsumu breathed. Osamu’s head whipped towards his brother. Atsumu was squeezing his eyes shut, a deep frown settled on his face.
“Tsumu, thank god,” Osamu exhaled heavily.
“Atsumu, baby, can you hear me? How’re ya feelin’?” Their mother asked gently, sweeping his hair back and sitting on the floor beside his head.
Atsumu’s eyes trailed lazily to meet their mother’s and he took a second longer than Osamu would have liked to respond.
“Head…head hurts,” he whined and closed his eyes again, his eyebrows furrowing together.
“Mhm, that’s to be expected when yer a dummy that got heat exhaustion. When yer ready, I need ya to sit up and drink something, okay?” She said, cupping his cheek. Her words, though seemingly harsh, were always soft. They never failed to comfort the twins whenever they were upset about something.
Atsumu visibly leaned into her touch.
“H-hot,” he murmured.
“No, shit, idiot,” Osamu responded. His mother shot him a glare. He rolled his eyes at her hypocrisy.
Another few minutes later, and they eased Atsumu into a sitting position and handed him the green sports drink (which Osamu found gross, but was his brother’s favorite). He took small sips and deep breaths.
“I’m goin’ to go get ya a little something to munch on, alright baby? Call me if ya need something,” Miya-san said. She kissed the top of his head and left the room.
Osamu watched his brother with a careful eye. He took in the flush of his cheeks, the paleness of the rest of his face, his shaking hand that rested subtly on his stomach. Sure, he just passed out and these things should be no surprise, but something deep in Osamu’s bones told him that Atsumu was hiding something; that something more was wrong.
“‘M gonna go help, Ma. Don’t do anything stupid.” Osamu stood and Atsumu nodded. The lack of a return insult, the lack of any verbal response at all from his obnoxious twin set all of Osamu’s nerves on edge.
“Ma,” he said as he entered the kitchen, “I think Tsumu is really sick.” He leaned against the counter where she was getting some crackers to put on a plate.
“He just passed out from heat exhaustion, Samu of course he’s sick.” She smiled at him softly.
“No, no. I mean… he’s been weird all mornin’ and I think somethins’ wrong,” Osamu pushed. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but his whole body told him that Atsumu was being a bigger idiot than either of them realized.
Miya-san glanced over at her son. Osamu tried to convey on his face how strongly he felt about this, how she needed to believe him. She studied him for a second before nodding and turning back to the plate.
“Okay. We’ll keep an eye on him, alright?” Osamu’s shoulders relaxed minutely.
In the living room, Atsumu was lying down again, his head pillowed against the arm rest and his legs curled into his stomach. He was still frowning.
“Tsumu, you should eat something,” Osamu tried. The frown on Atsumu’s face morphed into a grimace.
“Don’t wanna…” he replied, petulantly.
“Just a few crackers, please?” Miya-san asked, sitting by Atsumu’s feet. He looked between the two of them and sighed.
“Fine,” he relented. Too easily, for Osamu’s liking. On Osamu’s list of Things To Hate About Atsumu, stubbornness was easily in the top three.
Atsumu nibbled on a few crackers until their mother seemed satisfied and left the room. As soon as she did, Atsumu collapsed heavily back onto the couch.
Osamu paused for a second before he gave in to his baser instincts as a brother and twin and sat beside Atsumu on the couch. Almost immediately, Atsumu repositioned himself to lean on Osamu’s shoulder.
Osamu felt the tension ease out of his shoulders when his brother exhaled slowly and shakily, closing his eyes.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s really goin’ on? Or are you gonna continue to be stupid?” Osamu asked after a moment.
His ill twin tenses again and Osamu almost feels bad. Key word: almost.
(If Atsumu was going to continue being an asshole, he would not feel bad if this came and bit him in the ass.)
“…I don’t know. Just been feelin’ odd all day,” Atsumu relented and Osamu’s eyes disappeared behind his hairline.
“Must be feelin’ pretty bad if yer admittin’ it so easily,” Osamu teased. The guilt pooling in his stomach was not something he’d share with his brother easily. His pride wouldn’t let him.
That didn’t take away from the fact that it was there though. Of course it was. Osamu could tell something was off the second he looked at Atsumu’s face this morning, yet he let him go on and work in the scorching sun all morning.
“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, easing further into his brother’s side.
“Can ya tell me what’s wrong?” Osamu rested his head on Atsumu’s.
“Head hurts. Stomach’s been feelin’ weird,” Atsumu yawned. Osamu nodded.
“Wanna go take a shower and lay in bed?”
“Can’t move even if I wanted to.”
“I’ll help ya, stupid,” Osamu scoffed.
“Why’re you bein’ so nice?” Atsumu asked again. Osamu wouldn’t acknowledge the twinge in his chest that came when Atsumu didn’t believe that Osamu could be nice to him when he needed to be.
“No one else is gonna be,” he said instead.
“Ma’s here,” came the rebuttal.
“Let’s just go upstairs. You should get some rest so I don’t have to sub for ya at practice tomorrow.”
“Hate to admit it, Samu, but I don’t think I’ll make practice tomorrow,” Atsumu grumbled.
And well. Fuck. If Atsumu was already thinking that way, if he wasn’t fighting him about practice, wasn’t convinced he’d go tomorrow, then he must be really sick. The rock in Osamu’s stomach got a little heavier.
“Let’s go,” Osamu said. Atsumu nodded.
“Ma! I’m taking Tsumu upstairs to shower and get in bed!” Osamu called to their mom.
With that, Osamu eased his brother to stand, trying to ignore the way his face paled when he was upright, and slowly they made their way upstairs.
Osamu made Atsumu take a cold shower before he allowed him to settle into bed.
(Atsumu protested and whined the whole time. Osamu kept to himself that the argument that ensued made him feel a little better about Atsumu’s overall condition.)
Atsumu fell asleep almost instantly, curled into a ball around his pillow. Osamu gave him a sweatshirt and some athletic shorts to wear because he kept complaining about being cold. Convincing him that it was just because of the shower and that he’d warm up proved completely fruitless, so in the end Osamu relented.
Looking at his brother now, Osamu could tell that the worst was yet to come. Again, it was just a gut feeling. It set him on edge and kept his shoulders tight by his ears.
When Miya-san came to check on them, Osamu apologized, and though it meant showing his concern for his idiotic brother, asked her if he could skip their chores for the rest of the day and hang out in their room to keep an eye on Atsumu.
(Their mother was the one person they couldn’t lie to; she’d see past their proud facades and break them down with her eyes until they relented and told her what was really happening. Eventually, they stopped trying to lie to her.)
She agreed easily and told him she would run out to the store to prepare for the worst case scenario (see: Atsumu being a whiny little pissant). Osamu shouldn’t have been surprised that she believed him about his weird gut feeling. Thinking back on it, the two twins always knew when something was wrong with the other.
Miya-san left and Osamu took one last look at his brother sleeping on the top bunk before settling on the floor in front of his own bed. He grabbed an X-Box remote and turned on some game he’s played a thousand times, the volume low, and waited for the other shoe to drop.