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*Please note that this script is still a rough draft and will go through another run of editing, so it may not come out exactly like this.

Character video for Miya Atsumu (Haikyuu!!) - Still need to decide on a title lol

Among the lengthy catalogue of strengths that can be attributed to Haikyuu, something that I’d rank right at the top would be the quality of the character writing. This cast has slowly but surely developed into one that is broad and diverse, covering a wide range of personalities, each of which are proven to be even more interesting and contributory when examined in the context of a high stakes sports match. Vulnerable, insecure and doubtful players trying to work hard to find a place for themselves. Hungry, self-assured and hardworking feats of nature, perseverance personified. Athletes seemingly comprised solely of joy or expression, those who view the court as a place of pleasure, passion, and maybe even escapism. But up until the Ballboy arc and Nationals, there had been one personality type that had been absent in the series - the wholeheartedly confident, egoistic prodigy who demands respect for his skill. A personality that is very common among real-life athletes, and often disliked by many (Ibrahimovic). Even Oikawa, who is outwardly confident and prideful a lot of the time, is burdened by insecurity and jealousy at those he views as more talented than him, and he himself admits that there are certain players that can just do things he cannot. So there was no real ego-fueled, seemingly arrogant character in the series for the other personalities to bounce off of. Until the introduction of Miya Atsumu. The journey of Atsumu is one of a young man who dreamed of reaching the peak of his craft and went about this goal in a way distinct from any other character in the story. But it’s key to note that the common thread among these characters is maintained - the idea of that need to be on the court to feel good. To just play *one* more game to express oneself and be free. That much is entirely unchanged, and that is significant.

As children, Atsumu and his twin brother Osamu were stuck into volleyball from the start. When looking at positions, Atsumu found that he admired the setter the most, thinking that it was the coolest. His brother agreed, but never really had the insatiable yearning that Atsumu had to have the strongest weapons at his disposal, all of them singing to his tune. According to Aran, as young kids, what stuck out to him about the twins more than skill or talent or strength was their fighting spirit. Osamu seemed technically better at that age, but while both were fighters that despised losing, Atsumu had a little something extra. An irrepressible hunger.. something akin to that wild look that we see throughout the series in the eyes of the pure volleyball idiots, the ones who feel like they need to keep playing to survive. That monstrous look.

After picking up the setter position, Atsumu never looked back and continued to improve. He grew exponentially, and got to the point where he would give his teammates grief for not scoring from his great sets. Naturally, this rubbed people the wrong way and his teammates began to resent him in a manner sort of similiar on the surface to how Kageyama was disliked in middle school, though I must stress that that is only the surface, and that the subtleties in this case were very different. You’d think that any given kid would be hurt by this reaction, or that the thought of being hated by others would leave some scars.. but none of that happened with Atsumu. He simply continued on, improving and demanding, with no change to his behaviours. In reflection, Aran would describe this unflinching focus and confidence, as well as his lack of concern at being disliked by others, as “terrifying.”

And Atsumu didn’t discriminate - he applied this to his brother too, being a brutally harsh critic of him. In response, Osamu bit back, calling him out as an equal and saying he’s out of line. He’d be sure to tell him that no one is perfect, and he’s screwed up in the past too. He gave as much as he got, and that was vital for pushing the both of them to progress, improve, and ground themselves at least a little bit.

“Atsumu’s greatest gift was Osamu.” S4P2E8

The twins are noted to have been great for each other, blessed, despite how much they fought. They pushed each other to be better as rivals, and they reached unbelievable heights for their age. But eventually, everyone, especially Osamu, began to notice.. that that fire and passion burned just a little brighter in Atsumu. That Osamu just didn’t live and breathe and NEED volleyball in the way he did. He had something within him that couldn’t be satiated, a drive for success and greatness unlike anyone else. It’s integrative with how Osamu notes that Atsumu’s mental age drops when he’s in a game, displaying a child-like wonder, passion and again, that hunger. And this purity that he imbues is indicative of how inseparable he is from the sport.

“Isn’t everything childish?” Tendo S3E10 (overlay Atsumu footage)

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“You love it a bit more than me.” S4P2E8

Skip forward to Nationals, and Atsumu turned out as most predicted he would. He is widely touted to be the best setter of his age, and one of the very best young players in Japan for a variety of reasons. As a result, he is intensely prideful, he truly believes in himself, and while it seems from the outside that he’s mellowed out and relaxed a bit possibly due to increased confidence, his habits have not changed.

“Anyone who can’t hit my sets sucks.” S4E3

However, this attitude of his isn’t mean-spirited in intent.. for the most part. Because if you examine his psychology and if you put yourself in his shoes, you can kind of see where he’s coming from. Atsumu has a supreme aptitude for the sport and worked incredibly hard to optimize his skill and realize his potential. As his captain has acknowledged, his dedication and hard work has turned him into a phenomenal player. As such, he believes he deserves respect, and in fact he demands it. When he says that anyone who can’t hit his spikes sucks, he doesn’t mean that he thinks his spikers need to adjust to accommodate him. He’s saying that he has already factored in the best toss for them and taken their needs into account, and he is dishing them what they need. That’s why he needs his teammates to measure up - because he knows those tosses are optimal. They push them to their limit, but they’re also individualized extremely well. So if they can’t keep up with a toss that is perfectly tailored for their best abilities, then they suck. It’s not that he puts tosses up carelessly and expects his teammates to match them instead of the other way around. It’s the opposite - his sets are crafted with utmost care. He has put everything into training so that he can toss the ideal sets, so for him, his teammates not matching his dedication is disrespectful. Volleyball is a team sport, and no one can do everything on their own, so the unfortunate reality in some cases is that some players don’t end up getting the results that their graft deserves. No one wants to think of time spent working hard as wasted for reasons out of their control. In the finite amount of time we have, we want to believe that our efforts will be rewarded. And that’s why his demands are so lavish.

That can be extrapolated to why he wants the best opponents, and why he hates playing against people who suck (Ep13). Because after all the work he’s put in, he wants opponents who are just as awesome to awaken that childlike exhiliration in him. Anything less is just not nearly worth his time after what he continuously puts himself through to try and achieve greatness. Call it cockiness or arrogance or whatever you’d like, but I think that he subconsciously and genuinely believes it is due recompense, and he’s not entirely wrong. And it isn’t a malicious arrogance - just one that loses its cool when it isn’t matched with the respect he believes it deserves. I can understand disliking him, and if I knew him in real life I might find him hard to deal with at times. But what I care about more than almost anything in life are stories. And in fiction and sport, people like Atsumu can be brilliant for great narratives. It understandable rubs people the wrong way, and that’s just the nature of a prideful athlete. But try to tell him that it’s unfounded. Egos and confidence and arrogance are just a given when it comes to sport. And Atsumu is Haikyuu’s prevailing example of an athlete at the height of his power, who knows it and demands others to recognize it. And I can’t speak for everyone, but for me, this is a great bit of egoism and an awesome dimension to add to the cast.

In tandem with these demands, Atsumu is also a penchant of theatrics and control. He loves the extremes and sounds and sights of sport, and he wants to be at the center of it all. It’s a huge reason for why he does what he does - he loves playing with an unbelievable fire, but being a conductor of a grand orchestra - one consisting of the crowd, the boos and cheers, the pattern of play, the sets - he loves that just as much. And it coalesces with his demands. That’s why he requests silence for his serves. It isn’t being cruel or mean for the sake of it - he has gone through a great deal to get where he was and he deserves to perform on a stage that allows him to perform. To play in optimal conditions. And those around him recognize his assets and adhere to them in admiration, as the band and fans alter their approach depending on what he’s doing. And in turn, he uses all that he has earned, every resource, to overpower the opponent.

Atsumu is very dramatic - He plays with flair and drama and extremes, and he loves being in control of these things and dictating spectacle - so his personality fits his position like a glove more than nearly every other character in the series, licking his lips at the possibility of having monster hitters singing to his tune. But one difference between how he is now and how he was as a child is that he isn’t a hypocrite at all, and likely due to Osamu laying into him as they grew up, he knows that he isn’t infallible. If you’ll excuse a minor spoiler for a line of dialogue that he provides later on in the series, he says the following in a future arc: “If I score, hype me up. If I don’t score, lay into me. I don’t need no in-between participation prize. Cheers or jeers. Gimme one or the other. Cuz that’s what I want to be surrounded by.” There’s absolutely no mincing words, no half measures. Only greatness prevails - he must do what he can to be the best, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His stage must be loud and boisterous and fitting, one way or another. And he and those around him must live up to that.

This is a point that I think is very admirable about Atsumu, but that sometimes goes ignored - he 100% holds himself accountable. He expects others to do everything they can, because he does everything he can. But if he fails, he is aware of the ramifications himself and he doesn’t shy away from that, so he absolutely puts himself through the ringer to not fail. And this is shown in a moment after and during the match against Karasuno. After the result, where he almost asks the crowd to criticize him and his team for losing despite putting in an amazing effort. And in the game, when he pains himself to adjust to a very awkward pass to set overhand to Osamu. Suna marvels at his skill but wonders aloud why he didn’t just bump it underarm. And he replies that overhand uses ten fingers to the two arms underhand. And this allows for more control, appropriately, and more ability to support his spikers in the best way he can. No matter how difficult, he does it because he wants to do the best he can for them, which in turn gives his team the best chance of success. While the end goal does come down to his victory, there is more nuance to it than that, and we see here that he isn’t actually selfish as others tend to view him. He does literally all that he can to provide the best possible set in any situation. He’s actually very supportive and he very much cares, going through great lengths to provide for his teammates. And he only scolds them after he has done everything he can for them and they still fail.

“I’m a setter!” No one is as selfless as him.”

Atsumu isn’t a tunnel-visioned victory machine only centered on success, though. He appreciates his teammates and very much fosters connections with them, as shown through when he got emotional over Kita giving him food and wishing him good health. In fact, Atsumu is so strikingly sentimental in the rare moments we see him vulnerable that in my head canon, I view his philosophy when it comes to volleyball to be something like an exchange of care and respect between teammates - and I think they are interlinked in a way. As I mentioned, he’s a big advocate of effort being rewarded - with respect, with effort in kind, with execution, with opponents, and with care. It merges interestingly with Kita’s proclamation that we are built upon the small things we do every day, and that the end results are a bi-product. Atsumu has done everything he can in practice, and so he wants the end results to reflect that - so he gets angry when they don’t. He is actually quite similar to his upperclassman in that way, though not nearly eloquent enough to verbalize this in the way Kita does, and more focused on those potential byproducts than Kita - though it should be noted that he also lives for the journey that Kita enjoys as well.

So while his philosophy initially seems very similar to middle school Kageyama, it isn’t at all. Because whereas Kageyama just selfishly tossed and expected his teammates to keep up with what he wanted to do without taking them into consideration, Atsumu takes everything into account - his skill, the context of the match, the specific situation, and of course, his team-mates needs and attributes. And only if they fail after that does he lose his cool, because from his perspective, his extreme care and diligence isn’t being rewarded. It’s actually entirely different from Kageyama’s early desperate tunnel-vision. He’s petty and immature when things don’t go his way, but that doesn’t mean he expects things to fall into his lap. He loses it when this happens because he can’t stand the injustice of hard work not being rewarded. And I think there’s something very resonant about that, a parallel with Oikawa in a sense.

“Kita’s speech about Monsters. 386.”

Atsumu is a poster child for that idea of hunger. The hunger that his brother just didn’t seem to have for volleyball, and the hunger that exudes from Hinata and Kageyama. And because of that, because of what he does on the journey to satiating that hunger, he is often viewed as having been born special, or talented. But as Aran says, in the very beginning, what was most notable about Atsumu was his fighting spirit, passion and desire, not his technique or game sense. Those were aspects that he refined and polished through the years as he ground himself to dust through his training as a result of his intangibles. And maybe he did have a high potential for volleyball, maybe he was born for the sport in that romantic, idealistic way - we have no real way of knowing, after all. But the point is that NONE of that manifested in brilliant skill from the beginning, and he never got as good as he did with any semblance of ease. His path to the top was far from comfortable, and in fact, he pushed himself and his boundaries further than the vast majority to reach this apex. And in that sense, the real talent he had, that which truly made him a monster, was his yearning and hunger, that little tick and need to be on the court as much as you need to breathe that only a rare few possess. There are sometimes where you see an athlete playing their sport and see how naturally they do things and think to yourself that they were just gifted and born for this. But the scary thing that is the reality in the vast majority of these situations is that this instinct for the sport is something that has been worked on so much that it gives the illusion of a blessing from the gods. This instinct.. can be obtained through proper training, as we see with Hinata. It is excruciatingly difficult, but it is not impossible.

And all of Atsumu’s early life’s work and desires come to fruition in Inarizaki’s first game at Nationals. His efforts are rewarded in the Monster’s Banquet, the match of a lifetime against Karasuno, which slowly but surely engaged him in a joyous manner, made him celebrate the simple fact that he was able to play this beautiful game, and taught him how he wanted to live his life and how to proceed in the future if he wanted to truly become the best at this. This game is just a littany of passion, amazing moments, subconscious and consciously philosophical realizations, and happiness for Atsumu, and it became something of a benchmark for his career and where he wanted to go from here.

From how the sparks fly in a heated battle with Hinata and Kageyama and how he resolved to take them down a peg to prevail in a battle of monsters, to how he lost himself with joy in the fire and intensity of the game, being pushed to his limit and having the time of his life. How he talked up Hinata’s hunger and admitted to knowing the feeling and being able to relate to him, how he eventually realized that he should just lose himself in the moment and be free in his jubilation to be playing such like-minded and great opponents - which of course lead to him and his brother unluckily choosing to use the incredibly high-risk high reward minus tempo quick against the one duo who were aware of the volatility of that sort of reckless approach. And with the match finished and Karasuno’s victory secured, while feeling the burden of responsibility and the regret of his loss, and while characteristically asking to be chewed out, deep down, Atsumu knows that he’d do it all over again and go for that play every time. Because that’s how you grow, how your experiences become ingrained in you and push you onwards. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and the onus is on him at this point to keep developing, keep growing and changing and learning. Because that’s the joy of sports, expression and life. Spontaneity, evolution and liberation. The extremes that he so loves. To be good is to be free, and although he laments his defeat, he undoubtedly appreciates the sheer freedom that his opponents allowed him to feel. And though the pain of defeat can be difficult to endure, there’s always another chance to go again and experience it once more.

291 - proclaims that he’ll toss to HInata one of these days. Sincere respect. But says that he’ll defeat him in interhigh before then. Appropriate, fitting.

And all of this feeds into the Inarizaki motto, shown on their banner. “Who needs memories?” or “We Don’t Need The Memories.” What this is initially portrayed as through the abandon and unbelievable skill that characterizes most of Inarizaki, and the Miya brothers in particular, is that all that matters is the here and now. Atsumu lives for THIS moment - whether he’s training or playing, the point is to make it count in some way, to allow yourself to have more moments to live for in the future and to not rest on the achievements of yesterday. The point seems to be that you can’t live off memories, so you must drive yourself forwards in the now with all you have and forget the past. And this is very true to life when it comes to Atsumu, but there is more depth to uncover that changes the complexion a bit.

In particular, Kita’s words resonate here - he notes during the match that he doesn’t like the phrase much because it seems to disregard the importance of the past. Performing in the here and now is undoubtedly important, but it is the result of the preparations made prior. We are the result of everything before us, and pretending that experience hasn’t lead us to where we are today is just blatant dishonesty. It’s a perspective of maturity that Atsumu doesn’t yet consciously acknowledge, even though a lot of his outlooks are actually ironically dependent on that sort of mindset. But we grow from our trials and hurdles, and so with this loss, we see that Atsumu will ingrain this experience as a memory to learn from, to seek higher planes in the future. It will become a part of him. And this helps incorporate a new thematic message and a new spin on the banner motto. It isn’t about being reckless, it’s about giving it your all and doing literally everything you can using the experiences that are ingrained in your body. Don’t rest on your laurels and be satisfied with your memories, but be open to learning from them and you will see their beauty and value and how they have become a part of you in the present. And using that, you find greater and greater heights of experience.

And this is key, because he sure as hell would never want to forget both the triumphs and mistakes of this match, and this concept is particularly relevant in recontextualizing the final point they conceded as an encapsulation of who Atsumu is. They lost primarily because he got caught up in fun and expression, and came up against the block of two who had tried that in the past, failed, and learned from their mistakes through not forgetting that memory, but ingraining the experience into them. Atsumu and Osamu failed here, but like Hinata and Kageyama in their loss against Seijoh, they had no fear of failure. No regrets. Just joy in the moment, and devastation at the failure. But that devastation opens the path for growth, and a small comfort in this that is characteristic of Atsumu is that he dictated this - both he and his brother. As someone who always wants to be at the center, he must be prepared to take the responsibility of the failures along with the glory of the successes. And he does. He controlled his own destiny. He failed, and it’s up to him to take responsibility, learn from this failure, not dwell on it and ingrain it into him so that it becomes a part of him. We don’t need the memories, because those memories have become our muscle - they are an inherent part of us. And with this approach in life, this motto is incredibly balanced and wise. Because there’s a big difference between not needing memories, and *forgetting* what those memories mean to us. It’s a message that is extremely wise and inspiring when applied to sports, but one of the most beautiful things about Haikyuu is that these little tidbits of life advice that are presented to us through the characters can be used in any walk of life, in any context.

Now, if you’re an anime only, you may want to close the video because in the remainder of it I will touch on some spoilers from after the Karasuno vs. Inarizaki match and later on in the series. So I’ll just give you a few seconds to do so before continuing.

I’ve said a ton about Atsumu, but an understated element to him that I haven’t touched on yet is that in my opinion, like all of the Monsters in the story, he does cut a little bit of a lonely figure in some ways. Because his unbelievable fire, and his lack of caring that others detest him, and his unbelievably high standards.. it alienates him in a sense. That’s why Osamu keeping up with him was so important - because I think he may have lost himself without his brother. But he was there with him, every step of the way to ground him and push him in all the right ways. Yet.. even that is insinuated to not have a chance to last forever, and it does in fact turn out that way. Because Osamu just doesn’t have the same primal defiance and hunger that Atsumu has for volleyball. Which means that their paths will split. Atsumu’s NEED for this game and unbelievable drive will carry him to the top, but it will also leave the 99.9% who don’t have that hunger by the wayside and force him to walk alone eventually. But - I don’t mean to imply that this is a huge theme or a driving resonant idea of his character. Just a sad tinge to him. He accepted this difficult path, and that’s why he doesn’t flinch at the training required or being hated by others. But I don’t think he quite anticipated losing the most valuable constant he had had in his life up until that point. I don’t think he ever really thought of the possibility of having to walk this path without Osamu. The path to the summit is lonely, and losing the one person who was with you through everything is not something anyone can ever be prepared to deal with. But that’s what happened. That’s life. Osamu simply decided that he valued food more than volleyball. The fact is, the characters we follow that make it to the top and have that drive are few and far between, and while sports are an awesome hobby for tons of young people, it is rare to find anyone who actually has the desire, ability and conviction to make a living out of it. And realizing that despite loving the sport can be a really difficult thing. I can personally relate to Osamu, having made a decision like he did myself at around the same age as he did. I’m sure he felt awful in telling his brother about this, maybe felt like he was abandoning him, and I can’t imagine the anxiety that must have built up as he prepared to tell him this. But in the end, they’re able to affirm their support for eachother in a characteristically immature and contradictory way - through their little competition of comparing who will have lived the more fulfilling life on their deathbed. Personally I hope that one ends in a tie.

But in the end, this separation, the advice from Kita and the loss to Karasuno.. it’s all helped Atsumu to mature and years later, he is able to see things from a more balanced perspective, to incorporate his experiences and struggles to live in the now to his fullest. However, while he has grown, I’m of the opinion that Miya Atsumu the person hasn’t changed all that much. Of course losing Osamu as a partner definitely changes him, but later on, I can’t say that I really see much of a personality shift overall. It’s something that he deals with internally that I don’t think manifests in a huge characterization shift. He’s grown up and learned a ton, without a doubt. But I’ve seen some people say that he seems to have learned to control his hunger or keep it in check post-timeskip, and I can’t help but disagree. I think where he is now as the natural end result of his unbridled yearning - I don’t think he has his hunger in check or anything like that, I think he explodes with it. Not in a reckless way, but it’s not tempered either. I associate him with theatrics and extremes, and I think the manifestation of his unbelievable hunger is productive as a natural result and because of his experiences and memories, but I don’t think he bothers to control them much. To me, controlling them doesn’t seem very “Atsumu.” Just the way I feel about it - I think that if he were to change in a way that tempered his fire, that would betray the person he is and the person that all those around him admire and root for. So I think by the end, he’s accepted and embraced this lonely path - except he’s realized that even though he may be on this journey without his brother, they are far from alone and they are fully capable of supporting one another. And I think this helps him unapologetically carry himself forward with this same hunger, never betraying the drive that lead him here in the first place.

We all make choices in life and they all have their swings and roundabouts, and Atsumu is having the time of his life playing volleyball by the end. Despite the difficulties, he doesn’t regret it for a second, which is wonderful. And the beautiful thing is that the path he blazed for himself to the top inevitably leads him to other like-minded monsters with the same mentality and skill as him, so while it may be bittersweet that he is destined to leave so much behind, the future he looks towards is one full of promise, joy, theatre, new friends, and potential memories to ingrain in himself once more. Many thanks for watching.

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