#SakuAtsu / #AtsuHina / #OsaHina

An angst for @l0rrain3_

TW: Death, Blood
Tags: Yandere, Dark, Possessiveness, this isn’t a happy ending.

“So, this is it?” Omi wouldn’t look at him. He refused to look at the man breaking his heart in two.

“Shouyou is coming back,” Atsumu exhaled softly, “Ya know I never stopped loving him. Ya knew I would never reciprocate yer feelings , Omi.”

He knew, but he had hoped-

“When ya approached me, I told ya from the beginning it was just,” Atsumu paused, “It was just sex.”

He knew that too. He twisted his hands in his lap, holding back the panic bubbling up to the surface. He couldn’t lost control in front of Atsumu, /not his Atsumu./

“I hope it goes well,” Omi’s voice came out as a croak, “Please see yourself out.”

“Omi, I’m sor-“

“I don’t want your fucking apologies Atsumu.” /I only ever wanted you./

“Right,” Omi knew that defeated tone, “I’ll see you at practice.”

They both knew Omi wouldn’t attend.

“How’s it feel to be playing with your old team again?”

Omi sipped on his beer in the corner, not bothering to join the conversation. 6 weeks since his return, Hinata was /still/ the centerpiece.

“It’s great, I just wish Omi would talk to me.” /I’ve been avoiding you./

After his fourth beer, Omi ventured to the bathroom to relieve himself. Only to be cornered by an intoxicated tangerine-haired man.

“Omi,” Hinata slumped against the wall, “Why won’t ya talk t’me?” /My boyfriend broke up with me to be with you. And you aren’t even together./

“Omi,” Hinata traced a finger up his chest and pulled at his mask, uncovering his face, “You’re so pretty.”

And then Hinata’s tongue was in his mouth, molten hands trailed up under his shirt, and Omi found himself kissing the man back.

Atsumu /was/ watching after all.

When he woke with Hinata in his bed, a smug smile stretched across his face. This was how he got Atsumu to come crawling back.

He slid out of bed to grab his phone from his jeans.

He snapped a picture of Hinata’s back, *Peaceful mornings* the orange hair would be enough. Post

The message came in 5 minutes later, “Did U really.. w Shou?”

He sat down on the bed and looked at Hinata, “None of your concern.”

He didn’t bother looking at the messages that came piling in. The only one that mattered had seen it.

“Nnngh, Omi?” Hinata looked up at him.

Omi, once upon a time, had found Hinata to be beautiful. But now, he looked at the messy hair, the droopy eyes, he hated the bastard for stealing Atsumu.

“Hi, baby,” He pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” Hinata yawned, “Sleep more?”

“Sure.”

Months went by and he was still fucking Hinata’s brains out, keeping him on a tight leash. Away from Atsumu.

He was getting to watch the man he loved break in two every time he dipped Hinata into a kiss. A kiss that left nothing but bitterness in his mouth. /He wasn’t Atsumu./

And then, Omi let his guard down. He thought Hinata was obedient.

He had found them in a storage room, locked in a heated kiss. He hid behind one of the folded mats and listened to soft words of love whispered by Atsumu.

He clenched his fists, /He had never said those things/

Omi took a long pull from his whisky bottle and stared at the ceiling. Hinata had dumped him too. For Atsumu.

He started mindlessly swiping through pictures until he landed on one of Atsumu and Hinata.

“The love of my life.”

The whisky bottle shattered with a bang.

“Omi-Omi, are you okay?”

Omi looked up from the bench, squinting at the owl, “Fine.”

“You smell like alcohol,” Bokuto’s voice was low, “Maybe you should go h-“

“Fuck off, you owl faced fuck,” He took a drink from his whisky filled water bottle.

He wasn’t spiraling.

He undid the latch and peered inside the empty apartment.

He wasn’t acting out of sorts.

The crack of the bat against the pictures and plants on the table was orgasmic.

He wasn’t crazy.

Atsumu and Hinata’s pictures lay shattered on the floor.

“It’s the third time,” Atsumu clutched the water bottle, “We’re looking for a new apartment.”

“Do they steal anything?” Omi chugged the water bottle, you’d think it was water the way he downed the brown liquor.

“No, they trash it and leave.”

Omi didn’t need to take anything.

“Ya aren’t playing yer best,” Atsumu clicked his tongue, “Go sit out until ya get yer act together.”

“Fuck you, Miya,” He was getting benched during a game. He never got benched.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t bring it on the court.”

/You should’ve stayed with me./

Omi pulled his hood over his face and walked up to the apartment, bat carefully hidden.

He keyed in the code and walked through the door. Empty.

“‘Tsumu?” A sleepy voice called from the bedroom. A bedroom he used to spend nights in. A bedroom he should’ve been in.

Omi wasn’t a drunk.

Flesh and bones felt different under the bat.

Omi wasn’t losing control.

Blood was /really/ warm.

Omi wasn’t a killer.

Hinata lay on the floor. Shattered.

“He should have stayed with me.”

Atsumu couldn’t be consoled, though he tried. Showing up at his brother’s condo with gifts and food.

“I’m sorry, he’s still not seeing anyone,” Osamu leaned against the door.

“It’s fine,” Omi handed him the fatty tuna, “As long as he’s eating.”

Osamu dumped it in the trash.

It was months before Atsumu showed his face in the gym again. Months before Omi could see just how broken Atsumu had become.

A small part of him smiled, /he could patch Atsumu back together./

“Atsumu-“

“I don’t know how. But I know you had something to do with this.”

Omi had been startled. No one had suspected him. He went to Hinata’s funeral. Watched everyone else cry at the gravesite. Said a few words at his life celebration.

They chalked it up to the ransackers. And now, Atsumu was speaking quietly to Foster, pointing at him.

He had been out under probation. “A formality,” Foster had explained. Atsumu was taking a restraining order out on him.

Omi could see him other ways. He looked around the corner and found Atsumu walking down the dark street. He was on his way home from practice.

“Atsumu?” He was gentle. He just wanted to talk.

Pure terror streaked Atsumu’s face, “No, no! Go away!”

Omi sighed, /it wasn’t supposed to be like this./

Shoving a knife through someone’s rib cage was harder than Omi had imagined. Atsumu gurgled from his punctured lung.

Omi looked at the shattered Atsumu on the sidewalk.

“You should’ve stayed with me.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, whatever words are on his lips were sputtered with drops of blood.

“Now no one else can have you.”

-Fin