HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON ?

MEEYA, 18 YEARS OLD

DESCRIPTION: sleeping through alarms; thick, worn-out hoodies; procrastination; fidgety hands; summer rain; deadly hangovers; messy ponytails; spacing off into nothingness; a broad taste in music; laughing until breathless; a new favorite everyday; young, scrappy, & hungry.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: haikyuu!! masterlist, my hero academia masterlist, rules & navi, alt account: @poptien, selfship - meeki. when grit meets grace - ukai keishin.

i love tall women

LAST SEEN WITH:

LIKE A HIGH SCHOOLER, ATSUMU MIYA

DESCRIPTION: apparently, you know nothing about your best friend. apparently, she’s friends with nearly the whole national japanese volleyball team. she gets tickets and, oh, she’s inviting you?!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: profanity. pro vball player!atsumu. uni student!reader. ooc!yachi, probably. love at first sight if you squint reeeeeaaally hard.

• word count: 2,072.

“yachi. yachi, yachi. yachi, what do you mean you have tickets for the fucking olympics?”

the blonde girl in front of you glances to the side, gauging the reactions from the nearby people in the coffee shop. “um,” she hesitates, letting out a little giggle. “i went to high school with some of the team? i was the club manager- haven’t i told you this before?”

“i mean, probably, but!” you shake your hands, obviously frazzled. you can’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re about to go to the olympics. “you never told me that they made it to the national team!”

she shrugs and takes a drink of her tea. “it never came up.”

two weeks later, you’re sitting in one of the front rows at the japan v. germany volleyball game, popcorn in one hand and a soda in the other. yachi sits next to you, decked out in merchandise from some players—a hat with bokuto koutarou’s number on it, a jersey with kageyama tobio’s number on it, and a large sign with a baby picture of hinata shoyo.

“this is insane,” you note, leaning forward to get a better look of the court. it’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. “i mean- holy shit, yachi, we’re at the olympics.”

she laughs and nods. “i know, y/n. wanna know something even cooler?” you look at her and tilt your head. she leans forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “you get to meet the team after this.”

your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to say something, but loud music erupts from the speakers and both of your heads snap to the court. from a door in the far corner of the arena, a crowd of men enter. they’re wearing red jersey’s and you realize it’s the japanese team. cheers sound from everyone around you, including yachi. when the german team walks out of the same door, you don’t pay attention; your gaze is stuck on your team, eyes roaming over their faces, trying to see who looks familiar.

hinata shoyo, bright orange hair; kageyama tobio, tall and bored looking; bokuto koutarou, loud; ushijima wakatoshi, intimidating.

you don’t recognize anyone else, but there’s a head of blonde hair that entices you to no end. he’s rough housing with one of the other players, laughing and smiling wide. and, even from your spot in the bleachers, you can tell he’s handsome. the kind of handsome that people only see in movies.

“who is that?” you point down at the court, turning to yachi. “number eleven, the blonde one.”

“uh.” her brows furrow and she follows your direction. “oh, that’s atsumu miya. he and shoyo are really good friends; they played on MSBY together. bokuto and sakusa, too.”

you don’t ask who sakusa is—you don’t care. you direct your gaze back to the blonde and are surprised to find him seemingly staring right at you. in fact, four or five of them are staring directly at you and yachi.

“yachi!” hinata yells from the court, waving his hands wildly.

you look at her just as red begins to creep up her cheeks. she sends a wave back at them, smiling nervously. it hits you that he’s not staring at you, he’s staring at yachi. disappointment fills your stomach and you shove a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

of course, japan wins. it’s a close call, germany tries their best, but to no avail. the aftermath is crazy—cheers from your side of the arena, groans and complaints from the other side. yachi is losing her mind, screaming at the top of her lungs, shaking you aggressively. you’ve never seen her like this, but, with a laugh, you decide you like it.

she drags you up by your hand, gracefully maneuvering through the crowd of people until you exit into an almost empty hallway. you’re not sure where you are—you’re not sure how yachi knows where you are—but anxiety thrums through your veins.

“uh, yachi? where are we going?” she’s still leading you by your wrist. “are we lost?”

“what?” she glances back at you, laughing. “no, we’re not lost. we’re going to wait outside the locker room.”

you blink a couple times at the back of her head. “w- won’t they have to, like, talk to the press or something? and- and sign stuff? kiss baby’s on the forehead?”

again, she laughs. “yes, they have to talk to the press. we’re going to wait until they’re done and then we’re going out for dinner.” she comes to a stop in front of a door and you nearly bump into her with how abrupt it is. she looks at you and smiles widely. “are you nervous?”

“me, nervous? just because i’m about to meet the entirety of japan’s national volleyball team? of course not!”

“perfect.” she rolls her eyes playfully, ignoring the sarcasm. there’s a pause and then she wiggles her brows at you. “not even nervous to meet atsumu? i saw the way you were ogling him.”

your head doesn’t leave its position, but you look at her out of the side of your eye, glaring. “that’s so not funny,” you say monotonously. “i wasn’t ogling him. what am i, a high schooler?”

she just hums, rocking back and forth on her heels.

after forty-five minutes of small talk and teasing from yachi, the door to the locker room opens and a gaggle of men all rush out, talking loudly to each other. your veins go ice cold, a stark contrast to how sweaty your palms get.

“yacchan!” a large man shouts—bokuto koutarou, you recognize. he rushes to the girl and sweeps her up in a hug, spinning her around. “we got gold, yacchan! did you see my awesome spike at the end? i totally won the game for us!”

he seems to have no volume control, and yachi doesn’t seem to care. “bokuto! yes, i saw! good job, you guys all did so good!” a couple other men walk over, parting from their team. hinata, kageyama, atsumu, a tall brunette man, and a curly-haired man.

you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, hitting the wall. you want to give them time to visit, time to catch up. she regards them all by their names—suna and sakusa, the two men you didn’t know. they talk for a small moment before yachi turns to you, surprising you when she introduces you.

“this is y/n, she’s my best friend.” when you don’t move, she raises her brows. “say hi, y/n.”

you press your lips together, narrowing your eyes, then turn to the men and bow lightly. “hello. it’s nice to meet you all. you played a very good game.”

without meaning to, you let your gaze drift to atsumu. god. he’s still slightly sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead just a bit. now that you’re closer, you realize that, yeah, he’s hot. he smiles at you, wide and unabashedly, and you look away immediately, choosing to look at yachi again.

“nice to meet you, y/n!” hinata exclaims, pushing through the crowd to approach you. he sticks his hand out to you, presumably for you to shake, and grins. “i’m glad you could come and support us.”

you shake his hand, giving him a small smile. this is so overwhelming. yachi clears her throat, like she can read your mind, and claps her hands together. “all right, who’s hungry?”

the restaurant is barren. you later learn that yachi had rented the entire place out, then briefly wonder how much money she makes to be able to afford that.

you’re sitting at the end of the table, yachi on one side, hinata on the other. atsumu is sitting across from you, sparing you quick glances every so often. he’ll look at you, smile, cover his face with a hand, then look away. if you’re being honest, it’s freaking you out.

you pick at the skin around your nails under the table—a habit you’ve never been able to get rid of. yachi leans forward, talking to bokuto, who sits next to atsumu. you haven’t said a single word, too nervous to join the conversation in fear that they’ll think you’re weird.

“so, y/n,” bokuto looks at you. the use of your name scares the crap out of you and your knee jerks up reflexively, hitting the table. he laughs and you feel your face heat up. “where do you work? with yacchan?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i wouldn’t even know where to begin doing what she does. i barely know how to work photoshop.” it earns a laugh out of a few people and you exhale, feeling your nerves dissipate. “i work at an animal shelter, for now. i’m studying kinesiology at university though. i want to be a physical therapist.”

“no shit?” atsumu chokes out, setting his water down on the table with a clink. he coughs again and wipes the side of his mouth, cheeks getting red. “jesus- i mean, really? the team is looking for a physical therapist.”

“oh, well, i don’t have my degree in anything yet.” you shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “and i don’t think i’m quite experienced enough to work for the national team, y’know?”

he hums, putting his chin in his hand and leaning forward. his eyes bore into you, seemingly staring straight into your soul. the energy is so charged, so tense. you’re not sure how you should feel. you turn to yachi for help, but she just laughs quietly and returns her attention to bokuto.

“do you like school?” atsumu’s voice is quiet, barely audible over the chatter of the table. you meet his eyes—his beautiful brown eyes.

you swallow hard and shrug. “it’s okay. a little stressful, but, hey, i can handle it.” you laugh, hoping to calm yourself. “um, what about you? do you- do you like volleyball?”

“yeah,” he laughs, nodding, “it’s alright. i’ve been playing since middle school.”

suddenly, it seems like no one else is at the table with you. atsumu talks to you, his voice low and just raspy enough and—god, you’ve never felt this way when meeting someone for the first time. time flies by quickly, talking about family and high school and anything under the sun. before you know it, it’s 10 o'clock and sakusa is paying for everyone’s dinner. you all walk to the parking lot, talking loudly, as usual, and laughing. you walk next to atsumu, peering up at him as he recalls one of the many pranks he and his twin brother pulled in their childhood.

“—and she didn’t even see it, ran right into it,” he says, barely able to finish his sentence because of how hard he’s laughing. the story isn’t even that funny, but you can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of your throat. “god, we terrorized that poor old woman. we got in so much trouble.”

you laugh again, covering your mouth to try and be quiet, but it fails. he looks at you and, for a moment, it’s quiet again. you arrive at the passenger side of yachi’s car and a pang of disappointment shoots through you. is this it? you talked all night, but is it just going to end here? you look up at him and smile, tight-lipped.

“you’re real funny, y’know,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. the rest of the team is clambering into different cars, saying their goodbyes, promising to text yachi more.

you duck your head, smiling. “you’re funny too, atsumu.”

the car beside you rolls down its window, revealing sakusa, stone faced. “atsumu, hurry up. i will leave you here.” the window rolls back up and both of you laugh.

“can i–” he cuts himself off, taking a deep inhale. “god, that makes me sound like a high schooler. can i get your number?”

so that’s not it. he wants to talk to you again. you reach for your pocket, fumbling for your phone, before unlocking it and handing it to him. he punches his number in, then hands it back. “it was really nice talking to you, atsumu,” you say quietly, reaching for the door handle.

he smirks, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “yeah, it was nice talking to you too, y/n. i’ll see you around.”

“see ya.”

whyyyyy am i working on ANOTHER atsumu fic.

why is when grit meets grace flopping 💔 why does no one appreciate ukai like i do