Your presence in the Miya household was never given a second thought—it was just something that happened. At times, you felt like an extra piece of furniture, always there, blending in with ease.

Your family had always been close with the Miyas, it was a given that you’d stay with them while your parents were abroad. Their mother was particularly doting—Not that you blamed her, considering who her sons were. She probably just appreciated having an extra set of eyes on them. Atsumu, especially.

You adjusted to the chaos quickly but it’d be a lie to say you never got roped into it.

Case in point: admitting you couldn’t do a sit-up. You should have kept your mouth shut.

“Oh, come on—that’s seriously all you’ve got?” Atsumu scoffed, perched over you like a personal trainer.

You lay flat on the floor of your makeshift room, his hands clamped around your ankles like a vice. You tried, really, but your body wasn’t having it.

“That’s actually kind of pathetic,” he added, sounding way too entertained.