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I enjoy rich kid Sakusa headcanons but I been thinking like. What if he isn& #39;t from a well-off family? What if his parents weren& #39;t around much because they had to work extra hard to support themselves?
They raised and put two older kids through school and it was a struggle, and then comes Kiyoomi, a bit unexpected (but no less loved!). His siblings work hard to help out but they are still struggling young adults too and move away for jobs.
So Kiyoomi spends a lot of time alone because his parents aren& #39;t home and work late. He& #39;s basically a latch-key kid starting from first grade or so.
He joins volleyball because of Motoya, but then he sees his chance, a chance to make things easier for his parents. He studies hard and works at volleyball to get a scholarship to Itachiyama, to get a full ride based on merit and ability.
He lives in the dorms which makes it easier for his parents too, not being so worried about Kiyoomi home alone anymore. He gets hand-me-downs from his older brother. He gets a small allowance from his older sister. When they pool together to buy him a tablet, he almost weeps.
He takes extra good care of his belongings, keeping them neat and clean, because he really understands the value of having things. He takes extra good care of himself because if he gets sick, he feels like a burden.
He goes home to visit his parents when they have time off (not often, and not often that they don& #39;t spend it sleeping/relaxing/recovering). So ends up spending a lot of time at his cousin& #39;s house (though the Komori& #39;s are not much better off.)
He almost doesn& #39;t go to university, thinking he& #39;d rather try to go pro right away and work on the side to help support his family.
They assure him that they& #39;ll support him either way, though he is so, so reluctant to accept their help, even though he knows they& #39;re family, that they love him. It& #39;s hard to let go of that feeling, the need to be independent and support oneself and them too.
So he works extra hard at university. He has to make sure he has a contingency plan if things don& #39;t work out going pro. He works part time jobs. He picks up tutoring on the side.
He needn& #39;t have worried—he explodes onto the university volleyball scene. He has offers flooding in by the time he& #39;s ready to graduate. The sheer amounts of money—modest, he& #39;s a rookie, after all—make him want to cry with joy.
He lives comfortably, but frugally. He spends generously on his family, on his friends, on his juniors, now, because he remembers what it& #39;s like to want to do something fun or support someone else and not have the means to do it.
He& #39;s still really uncomfortable accepting gifts from other people. The idea that people would spend money on him, for him, still feels foreign. It& #39;s a hard habit to break.
His teammates notice. At first, they don& #39;t know what to do, they don& #39;t want to make him uncomfortable after all. And the weirdest things will set him off, so to speak. He always insists on paying his fair share, or is really stubborn about using up every last bit of something.
But they start to figure it out. When Meian takes them out for drinks or a meal, he makes sure to take out a group of at least three of the youngest members, so it can be excused as a treat by the older members.
When Barnes and Tomas get care packages from home, they ask for extra to give as gifts for their teammates, so they can be a part of "cultural exchange"
If they always make sure to have -extra- extra of Kiyoomi& #39;s favorite snacks from being abroad, they& #39;ll never mention it.
And it& #39;s not always about gifts, either. Kiyoomi spent so much time alone, trying to be as independent as possible, he doesn& #39;t know how to lean on others, on how to ask for help, even though he would give his own assistance without fuss.
Inunaki asks for extra practice with Kiyoomi& #39;s serves. Bokuto makes a point to chat with him about Tokyo, about their favorite places to go or hangout or things they want to see the next time they visit home.
Hinata swaps recipes with him, or brings him food from new ones that he wants to try out—nevermind that they& #39;re all Sakusa& #39;s favorite foods, favorite flavors.
And then...Atsumu. Where to start with Atsumu? Atsumu from Inarizaki, always punching up at those "rich kids from Itachiyama" (nevermind that Inarizaki has one of the best funded public school sports programs in prefecture, if not the whole country.)
Of course that& #39;s all old bullshit high school rivalry nonsense. Neither them cling to those ideas nowadays, but Atsumu, well, he still always assumed Kiyoomi came from a well-to-do background.
Imagine his surprise when he learns otherwise—learns in one of the worst ways possible, too. Kiyoomi& #39;s mother collapses. He gets the call out when they& #39;re walking home from a dinner after practice and he goes white as a sheet.
Atsumu doesn& #39;t let him go back to Tokyo alone. He insists on making sure Kiyoomi gets home safely, insists on being his support. Kiyoomi doesn& #39;t even ask—Atsumu is already buying looking up the next shinkansen before Kiyoomi is off the phone, buys tickets for two.
And on the way back he hears all about it, how Kiyoomi& #39;s parents worked so hard, still work hard. How he sends them money, hoping they can take a break, take it a little easy now that they& #39;re getting older (much older, Kiyoomi& #39;s the baby after all). How they insist he keep it.
How he& #39;s the one closest to them right now, his siblings in far-flung prefectures, so he feels responsible for them, feels incredibly indebted to them.
And Atsumu gets it. He comes from modest means too (nothing quite like preparing for one baby and finding out you should be preparing for two). But this is about Kiyoomi. So he lends an ear first, and then a shoulder when Kiyoomi finally falls into a fitful nap on the train.
He holds out a hand for Kiyoomi& #39;s bag when they get to the hospital. He gives Kiyoomi space when he finally collapses into a hug with his mom. He quietly calls the captain and the coach and tells them he& #39;ll be late to practice, and Kiyoomi needs a few days off.
He goes to pick up food, comes back to pick up Kiyoomi when visiting hours are over. They go back to his parent& #39;s home where he keeps conversation light, knows when to give Kiyoomi and his dad some space and time to process together.
In the morning, he gets up extra early and runs out to the store. He cooks breakfast for the three of them, then cooks a few days& #39; worth of side dishes to keep in the fridge.
He coaxes a weary Kiyoomi from bed, places a neat plate of food in front of him. Kiyoomi smiles. Kiyoomi& #39;s dad watches the exchange, quietly. They all go to the hospital together.
Kiyoomi& #39;s mother is doing fine. Just overwork and anemia, they say, but it doesn& #39;t make their smiles any less tired. Atsumu leaves midday, plopping another ticket in Kiyoomi& #39;s hand for the absolute latest he can reasonably come back, tells him he has the rest of the week off.
When Kiyoomi returns to Higashiosaka, Atsumu waves off his money for the train tickets, says he& #39;s glad to hear Kiyoomi& #39;s mom is okay, to pass on his get well wishes (the Jackals sent a whole floral arrangement and gift basket, actually).
A few months down the road they play a game in Tokyo. The Jackals reserve the best seats in the house for his parents as a surprise. Kiyoomi nearly flubs his first serve when he sees them sitting just off center court.
They win. There& #39;s cheers and high fives and hair ruffles. Kiyoomi sprawls on the floor in his usual post-game exhaustion. Bokuto prods him up. Hinata brings him his water bottle. Atsumu...would normally be there too, snarking about the other team or that one JVA guy...
Instead, he spies Atsumu over by the edge of the spectator seats, talking to his parents. Oh dear. He knows Atsumu was perfect (more than perfect, actually) to them before, but those were extenuating circumstances. Who knows what he& #39;s telling them now...
He stumbles up to the little trio, just the hear the tail end of the conversation, but not enough to know what was being said. His parents beam at him. Atsumu smiles, genuine.
His mom pulls him aside while his dad chats with Atsumu about the finer points of the game. "Kiyo-chan," she says, "I& #39;m so happy to see you play. You really love what you do, and you& #39;ve got such good support on your team. That& #39;s all a parent could ever ask for, you know?"
And it& #39;s so so simple, but it makes Kiyoomi want to cry. His parents always supported him, he never doubted that. It was hard though, when they couldn& #39;t come see his games. When he went away. But he& #39;s found so many different kinds of support, finally learned how to accept it.
Her smile turns a little mischevious. "Especially from Atsumu-kun here, huh?" And before Kiyoomi can deny it, or fight his blush, Atsumu leans over, slings an arm over Kiyoomi& #39;s shoulders.
"Of course, Sakusa-san. I& #39;m a setter, after all. It& #39;s my job to support my teammates."
"Of course, Sakusa-san. I& #39;m a setter, after all. It& #39;s my job to support my teammates."
//end (for now). Honestly this was just meant to be a not-rich Omi headcanon with a sprinkle (a dash, really) of projection (shhh) and it turned Kiyoomi-black-jackals-found-family-pre-sakuatsu?? *shrug*
