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Atsumu and Osamu always had to share everything. It started with the womb and ended with a shared room, clothes, friends and so much more.
Most of the time, they were fine with it. Osamu complained when Atsumu stole his jacket, Atsumu yelled when Osamu stole his girlfriend.
Most of the time, they were fine with it. Osamu complained when Atsumu stole his jacket, Atsumu yelled when Osamu stole his girlfriend.
But there came a time when Atsumu was fed up with having nothing to himself.
It& #39;s their 16th birthday and Atsumu refuses to leave his bed in the morning. He buries his head under the pillow, screaming when his brother tries to pull it away.
It& #39;s their 16th birthday and Atsumu refuses to leave his bed in the morning. He buries his head under the pillow, screaming when his brother tries to pull it away.
Atsumu feels the shift of the mattress when Osamu sits down on the edge.
"Tsumu," he says. It& #39;s not a question, just his nickname in this annoyingly flat tone his brother uses whenever Atsumu gets too worked up about something. He groans into the bunched up pillow.
"Tsumu," he says. It& #39;s not a question, just his nickname in this annoyingly flat tone his brother uses whenever Atsumu gets too worked up about something. He groans into the bunched up pillow.
Atsumu knows that Osamu won& #39;t leave until he tells him what& #39;s wrong and it pisses him off.
"Can& #39;t there be just ONE day where it& #39;s just about me? Or just about you, I don& #39;t care which way, but just not about & #39;the twins& #39;?!"
"Can& #39;t there be just ONE day where it& #39;s just about me? Or just about you, I don& #39;t care which way, but just not about & #39;the twins& #39;?!"
His voice is muffled by the pillow, but Osamu can still hear that his brother is genuinely upset. He sighs. Sixteen years and he& #39;s still a snotty brat.
Another shift in the mattress and Osamu is gone.
Another shift in the mattress and Osamu is gone.
Two hours later, Atsumu is still sulking, but this time Osamu yanks the pillow and covers away.
"What the hell?", Atsumu yells, trying to hold onto the blanket.
Osamu grabs him by the wrist and drags his struggling brother into the kitchen.
"What the hell?", Atsumu yells, trying to hold onto the blanket.
Osamu grabs him by the wrist and drags his struggling brother into the kitchen.
Atsumu tries to kick him, but still sits down onto his chair. He jumps by the sudden bang of a confetti cannon, that his parents fired.
"Happy Birthday, sweety," his mother chimes and places a kiss on his forehead.
"Happy Birthday, sweety," his mother chimes and places a kiss on his forehead.
Meanwhile, Osamu had put down a large cake in front of him, his sugar letters spelling:
h a p p y b i r t h d a y a t s u m u
He looks up confused, searching for his brother& #39;s eyes. They always get just one cake for the both of them.
h a p p y b i r t h d a y a t s u m u
He looks up confused, searching for his brother& #39;s eyes. They always get just one cake for the both of them.
Osamu chuckles by Atsumu& #39;s dumb face.
"Since you& #39;re the older one, we& #39;ll celebrate your birthday first," he says with a grin. "It& #39;s my turn in the afternoon."
"Since you& #39;re the older one, we& #39;ll celebrate your birthday first," he says with a grin. "It& #39;s my turn in the afternoon."
Atsumu looks down on the cake, making sure he didn& #39;t misread it the first time.
Big tears drop down on the icing and he can& #39;t stop the sob that& #39;s building up in his throat.
For the first time, it& #39;s a birthday all for himself, even if it& #39;s only half of it. But that& #39;s fine.
Big tears drop down on the icing and he can& #39;t stop the sob that& #39;s building up in his throat.
For the first time, it& #39;s a birthday all for himself, even if it& #39;s only half of it. But that& #39;s fine.
Just imagine I posted this on their actual birthday 
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