It was raining something bitter this Valentine.
Light drizzles down from behind dry, bulky clouds and falls, down, down onto the sound of the school bell, followed by the thus dismissed teenagers rushing out of their classrooms. Then, falling a few steps behind, comes Kageyama. Swinging his essentially empty backpack onto his back and rushing down flights of stairs as if his life depends on it. Which, might not be an exaggeration after all.
There were never that many things in his life: the gym beyond a few twists and turns of the hallway, a centimeter, then a millimeter, then the width of a few atoms in between his fingertips and the ball. And, among all else, the back of someone leaving him behind.
The width of a few atoms. Then a millimeter. Then beyond his reach.
It’s been almost three years since he broke up with Oikawa. Almost - give or take one month, on the day of his graduation, it’ll be exactly three years. But truth to be told, he doubts whether or not it could be called a breakup at all - Oikawa isn’t treating him any differently than before, as if nothing ever happened.
But all of it did happen. Maybe things change without changing.
It had occurred to him countless times that most things aren’t and couldn’t be as simple as volleyball, no matter how hard he wished otherwise.
The vibration of his phone in his pocket brings his train of thought to an abrupt stop. Kageyama takes one glance at the screen before picking up his pace. It almost pains him to admit that after he went through, he still so helplessly wants this.
This, if only this were more simple than it is-
“Excuse me, um-”
It’s one of those rainy days, where the air is almost too heavy to swallow and cherry blossoms fall without a shred of its archetypal dreaminess.
“Kageyama-kun!” The same meek voice calls out to him, frantic, filled with even more apprehension than last time. Barely keeping his balance when he comes to a halt, Kageyama looks back, hands still clutching his phone to his chest.
Most students are gathering just outside the school gate, a few hundred meters away. It takes him only a few seconds to pin down the girl calling out to him. She looks familiar, perhaps someone from his class; not that he could ever be sure since he sleeps through the better half of them anyways. Putting his phone away, Kageyama can’t help but notice her soft, blonde hair pooling around her shoulders, curling around itself at its tail.
A few of her friends giggles and nudges her towards Kageyama. Stumbling a little, she half-heartedly bickers back at them in hope of distracting herself from the nervousness.
Kageyama nods at her politely when their eyes finally meet.
It was pitiful, almost, with the way she fumbles with her words, and the box of cutely wrapped chocolate she held out for him, watery eyes too scared to look at him; pitiful not because of how embarrassed she looked, but pitiful because Kageyama couldn’t even bring himself to care as much as he probably should.
She has those eyes with the same shade of brown, too.
“Thank you.” He feels himself giving his best attempt at a smile. “If you don’t mind, I’m, uh, on my way to practice. So.”
He wonders what she saw in him; A boy who had spent his whole life on volleyball, who has a whole life ahead of him dead set on playing volleyball. It took growing up to realize that this wasn’t the common thing to do, and a lot more than growing up to have found someone who shared this fervor.
“Thank you.” Kageyama pauses when he realizes he’s repeating himself. “...See you around then.”
The weight of the chocolate feels heavier than he expected it to be.
Maybe he’s in too much of a hurry to even put it into his backpack, or maybe something else lurking inside him makes him feel as if he will be hiding something if he does. Kageyama doesn’t let himself dwell on its ludicrousness.
There’s no practice today due to the holiday, which is at least a little silly - not that any of the volleyball club members have any plans for Valentine’s.
Except him, apparently. That’s more than a little silly.
Pulling his hood up, Kageyama checks his phone one last time before dialing Oikawa’s number, which is picked up before the second ring.
“I’m just outside the school gate. You’re here already?”
Oikawa hums in affirmation on the other side of the phone, the slight crackling of the static almost ticklish with how close it is. “I don’t see you.” Kageyama complains after looking around. “Please don’t tell me you’re wearing some dumb disguises again.”
Oikawa clicked his tongue as if offended. “For Tobio-chan’s information, you started it.”
“Yes. Glasses.” Oikawa taps on the frame of his glasses as he says it. “I think I see you. Stop moving around, Tobio-chan.”
Doing as he’s told, Kageyama clenches his other hand before letting it relax again. It hasn’t been that long since they last met. Hell, they even run into each other during their morning jog sometimes; it’s almost laughable how he still gets so nervous at the thought of him.
“Tobio? Hey, Tobio. You listening?”
“Oh,” Kageyama shakes his thoughts away, embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just a little distracted.”
“Yeah right.” Oikawa sneered halfheartedly, “keep walking forward. Where you’re facing - that’s right. Keep going. I’ll meet you in a sec.”
I don’t see you though. Kageyama decides against repeating himself and instead walks away in silence. Oikawa is still going on about something, apparently entertained enough with his few “hmm” and “really”s in between. The crowd thins out the further he went, making him suddenly very aware of how quiet everything is through the hum of his phone; the gentle, almost misty rain not quite enough to drown out the chirp of small insects and the sound of equally faint footsteps behind him.
Footsteps? Kageyama stills, and so did Oikawa, who chuckles after a small pause, equally amused as he was irked by how quickly Kageyama caught on.
"Hey." Oikawa's voice comes startlingly close,"You didn't answer my texts, Tobio-chan."
Kegayama turns around, putting his phone down without hanging up. The parts of their conversation still barely being picked up vibrate through his palm. Oikawa lowered his gaze, eyeing at the box of neatly wrapped chocolate Kageyama is still holding onto, ready to make some snarky comment before deciding against it. It took all of Kageyama’s self control to pretend to be oblivious.
"What was all that for."
"Making us walk this far. You could've just came up to me back there.”
Oikawa rolls his eyes so far back it’s genuinely impressive. The dramaticism of this guy. Kageyama muses to himself, listening to Oikawa rant about how he’s an air headed idiot who can’t even comprehend the idea of romance.
I can. Kageyama thought. Just not with you.
“What was that?”
Kageyama flinches at the question, realizing just now that he’s spoken the thought out loud. “I don’t mean it that way.” Frankly, he doesn’t know what he meant by that way either. “It’s just… We aren’t together anymore. Right?”
He sees something he couldn’t quite name shift in Oikawa’s eyes.
“Last time I checked, yes.”
Oikawa leans over. His long, elegantly curved lashes cloaking that look behind, and all at once it occurs to him why Oikawa dragged the both of them all the way out here.
Kageyama wills himself to close his eyes. With his vision reduced to a world of nebulous light, Kageyama suddenly grew very aware of the way the thin strands of rain fell onto him; fugitives from heaven finding solace in the dry crevice of his lips. He leans into Oikawa’s kiss, closing his arms around the tide swallowing him down whole.
Look at me, Tobio. Oikawa whispers against his lips, look at me.
Up close, Kageyama is finally able to see, through his reflection in Oikawa’s eyes, the things he didn’t have words for at the time. Such profound loneliness, yet even that doesn’t quite capture the whole picture.
“We aren’t dating,” Oikawa presses another saccharine kiss to Kageyama’s forehead, “but we are together still, right?”
Oikawa hides his face away thereafter, even though he was the one who told Kageyama to look at him in the first place.
When was the first time you looked at a volleyball and realized it was something more?
Oikawa once asked him, behind the shadow of the stadium that only reminds him of his bitter loss, holding Kageyama in his arms tighter than ever. Even his tears were trembling. Oikawa-san..? He whispered in disbelief, as confused as he was scared.
First year. My first year in middle school, first spring interhigh, first time losing to Shiratorizawa. Iwaiizumi and I fought after we got back to our gym...We were supposed to be practicing out of spite, you know? But I guess that’s alright too, you need to let it out somehow. He was really mad at me, more so than usual. Which says a lot. I told him it was only natural that we lost, since they had that Ushiwaka on their team.
I don’t think we were bound to lose with you being there. Kageyama started rubbing circles on Oikawa's back somewhere along their one-sided conversation.
That’s what Iwa-chan said too. Well, a bit more vulgar than that. But you get the idea. And I suppose he’s not entirely wrong, but I wish he hadn’t said it like that.
When was the first time you looked at a volleyball and realized it was something more?
8.15 inches in diameter, 280 grams. Light enough to be held with one hand and as heavy as his whole life.
Kageyam looked hesitant as he wiped away Oikawa's tears. The latter gave him a weak smile as he pulled away. It’s whatever. I wasn’t exactly looking for an answer from you. But-
No. I get it. Well, I think I do.
Oikawa laughed at how desperate he was to get that across, like a kid trying to prove himself mature despite everything. Kageyama always looked and felt like that in front of him: a kid. A kid with the will and potential to surpass him and thin, soft lips that felt like it would burn through him every time they kissed, but a kid nonetheless. And perhaps he, with all his charming looks and worthless pride, was just as childish for holding onto something that so obviously belonged to his cute little underclassman.
They didn’t even live near each other. Hell, Kageyama rarely even sees Oikawa outside of school.
The last remnants of sunset barely clung onto the edge of the horizon, painting their back with a dull, dull red, burnt ashes melding into the last whisk of light. They walked down the streets, neither in the mood to be the first to strike up a conversation.
He really is not cute, Oikawa thought with a slight pout, it makes me look desperate if I am always the one to break the silence. Does this kid even know basic social etiquette? Or is he like this with everyone... Talk about having no friends..
Oikawa almost jumped at the sound of his own name. “What.” He snapped, a little too sharp to be polite.
“Do you...like them? The girls, I mean.”
Normally Oikawa would’ve teased him for sounding like a jealous little girl, but surprisingly, he kept his mouth shut and shrugged. “Well, short answer, no..” He craned his neck up, the outline of his hair catching what remnants of the sunset there is, glowing a gentle hue of gold. “But free chocolate doesn’t hurt anyone, right?”
Kageyema furrowed his brows, his voice small when he finally spoke. “But isn’t that rude? You’re leading them on…”
Oikawa sneered, “But isn’t it rude?” he repeated mockingly, “since when did little Tobio-chan know anything about romance?” Before Kageyama could even muster up a response, he continued. “It would be even ruder to straight up reject them, wouldn’t it?”
I guess that’s one way to look at it. Kageyama thought to himself before getting slapped on the back. Stumbling a few steps forward, he glared back at Oikawa, the latter chuckled lightheartedly at him.
“Aw come on, don’t act like you didn’t do the exact same thing, hypocrite.”
“I’m not-” Kageyama snapped back before falling quiet again. “I, well… She looked like she was really gonna cry if I rejected her, so.”
“Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” Oikawa nudged Kageyama after seeing the pout that’s still on his face, smiling victoriously. “Aw c’mon, stop complaining about free chocolate. Might as well let me have it if you’re gonna keep acting so ungrateful.”
Kageyama didn’t even put up a fight when Oikawa snatched the chocolate away from him. Taken by surprise and struggling to balance all the rest of the boxes, Oikawa lets out a yelp before glaring at Kageyama in sheer fury. For giving him what he said he wanted, presumably.
“You can take it if you want, I don’t really mind either way.”
Kageyama shrugged, too used to being perplexed by his very reasonable upperclassman to even express it.
“...oh really.” Oikawa murmured something bitter under his breath.
Kageyama hummed in affirmation, although maybe it wasn’t a question waiting to be answered. Oblivious to how Oikawa fell silent out of nowhere, he simply kept walking towards where the moon will rise, his shadow stretching off into the lonesome night right beside Oikawa’s.
Maybe it was how empty the echo of his footsteps sounded without a companion, Kageyama turned his neck around to check on Oikawa, and stilled when he saw the latter simply staring off into some faraway places, apparently not interested in keeping up with him anymore.
His lashes are really long, Kageyama thought as he gazed into those hazel eyes, suddenly very aware of how distant and dejected they seemed.
Oikawa laughed softly, incredulous. “Nothing. I just find it funny…” he trailed off, shaking his head before gazing back at Kageyama.
“Of course… Of course you don’t...”
His murmurs fade into the wind, the rustling leaves brought it back into silence, the words now indecipherable. Deep, ocean blue eyes framed Oikawa’s face dipped in shadow, his features so lost, so angry it’s almost pathetic.
He feels like a child in front of him.
A woeful trial, and an answer right in his arms. An answer he neither wants nor accepts.
The things they do behind locked equipment room doors; soft, heated body smelling of sweat and something muskier than sweat, Oikawa never knew what to make of it. His relationship with his little backup setter was as equivocal as his feelings themselves.
Kageyama Tobio. He saw the name in a passing glance while their manager was flipping through the list of freshmen joining their team, along with the position he plays.
They could use a backup setter, especially given he’s graduating this year. And so he remembered the boy with those strikingly blue eyes, and a stance way too confident for his age. Tobio.
He carried himself in a particular way that makes it damn near impossible to not notice him. And the more he looked the more he looked; he looked at those quiet lips and the way they press into a line when he loses a point in game, he looked at how Kageyama stared at him with such overwhelming admiration, he looked and looked and somehow couldn’t stand it was made clear that his obsession wasn’t being returned in the same way.
They kissed, and did things more than kiss, all of it long before Oikawa realized how far he’s fallen. And before he got to understand what the hell it all was, he had to leave, praying to gods that couldn’t answer him even if they wanted to because he had no idea what he wanted from the gods.
He didn’t want the answer in the first place because then, he wouldn’t even be part of the equation.
..No, when was the first time Oikawa looked at him and realized he was something more?
“Fuck, they’re half melted.” Oikawa mumbled with half of his mouth full. To be completely honest, he himself had no idea what he was expecting with the heater in his house turned up way too high. And it’s not like he can somehow stuff the overwhelming amount of chocolate he received into his already overflowing fridge.
Abandoning both the box of chocolate and Kageyama on his bed, Oikawa walked towards his closet on the other side of his room, his back towards Kageyama and lifted his (frankly stinky) shirt off and threw it into the basket.
“How is it?”
Kageyama carefully considered it for a moment, and shook his head. “It’s alright,” he said, “I’m just not the biggest fan of chocolate.”
Oikawa hummed, finally done hanging up his sweat-soaked gym clothes. Casually grabbing a piece of chocolate from Kageyama and throwing it in his mouth, Oikawa mused about how sweet it tasted, and grabbed another one. “Hm. Milk flavoured filling.” He remarked while giving Kageyama a teasing look.
“...Yeah. I know.”
It was almost squishy with how melted it was. Oikawa’s fingertips pressed together, and with the slightest bit of force, the chocolaty shell came undone. He licked the chocolate clean off his fingers and paused, watching the smooth, milky filling drip down, down his forearm until Kageyama caught his wrist with a worried frown.
He was entranced, almost mesmerized by the warmth around his wrist. Kageyama’s body wasn't exactly close, but it felt like it was pressed up against him, overwhelmingly alive. Oikawa swore he could’ve traced out the outline of him if he really tried, behind those baggy sweaters and the veil of thin moonlight. The boy looked like he wanted to say something, with his thin lips slightly ajar, blinking as Oikawa pressed them close with his thumb.
“I thought you liked milk,” Oikawa mumbled, much more focused on the ocean blue eyes inches away from him than what he’s actually saying. The side of this thumb carefully traced out the shape of Kageyama's lips, catching the slightest hint of dampness in its path.
“Yeah, but that’s different.”
“I don’t see you dipping bread in milk every other day.”
Oikawa laughed incredulously. You’re a fucking comedian now, Tobio. He whispered, watching Kegayam lean into his touch.
He was still so young - with his puffy baby cheeks and thin, delicate looking hands, skin outlining the curve of his bones into something fragile, something raw. But Oikawa knew what these hands were capable of; they were almost an extension of the ball, or maybe the ball is an extension to these hands. Surrounded by teammates that are more servants to his sets than anything, these hands that have guided him to victory countless times before will continue to do the same for others. People other than him.
These hands grab onto his own, and the worthiest king lowers his head.
How can someone be such a walking dichotomy, Oikawa wondered. The king with the nastiest, most demanding sets that stings his teammates as much as his opponent nudges his hands like a needy puppy, pressing his lips against his knuckles to lick away the milky filling, lashes fluttering as Oikawa caught his tongue in between his fingers.
Kageyama barely holds back his urge to gag when Oikawa presses lightly at the base of his tongue.
Oikawa wasn’t doing anything harsher than usual; caging him in his tight embrace, kissing up his neck to his chin and stealing his every breath away until he turned into a drooling mess, all teary eyes and heavy breathing. But it somehow felt different. Tender, agonizingly so. Like trampling on thin ice.
Holding onto Oikawa’s wrist with both hands, Kageyama lowered his gaze with something akin to resolve. He wraps his tongue around Oikawa’s fingers, suckling gently. He felt Oikawa planting a kiss on his forehead, good boy, he heard him whisper, you know what to do, don’t you? His heart fluttered at the praise.
He’s always been like this when it comes to Oikawa. Clingy, eager to please. Terrified. Laying out his most vulnerable side for Oikawa to do as he pleases, yet still trembles as if his mere touch can dethrone the king inside him.
“...Toru.” Oikawa heard his trembling whisper.
So he paused, his head still resting on Kageyams’s shoulder. Realizing how anxious Kegeyama is getting due to his silence, he chuckles softly and pulls back to look him in the eyes reassuringly.
He’s making that face again, Kageyama thought. The kind where it looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
“Just put it in the fridge over there, Tobio-chan. And then take your leave.” Oikawa said without turning back to face Kageyama, nodding in the kitchen’s direction. “And no. Not even tea.”
I wasn't planning on asking, Kageyama thought, but did as he was told anyways. Stacking containers of fruit on top of each other, he barely made enough room for the chocolate boxes when Oikawa came up behind, apparently done changing into his pajamas. His senpai leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as he worked through reorganizing the overflowing fridge so he can actually shut the doors without crushing anything - a stressful enough situation all on its own, even without Oikawa burning a whole into his back.
Oikawa seemed to get bored of what little entertainment Kegeyama’s struggles offer, and turned to examine the only box of chocolate left on the counter. “Ah, it’s pretty much empty..” He remarked as he picked it up, weighing it with his hand. “You should just finish it.”
Kageyama furrowed his brows, irritated.
“It’s fine. I’ll just take it home.”
Oikawa doesn’t seem to notice the weariness in his voice, or at least pretend not to. He smirks as he pushes himself off the counter, chocolate in hand, and engulfs Kageyama in a bear hug from behind. The kid jumps at his touch, but settles down quick enough, until Oikawa brings his hand up to Kageyama’s face and nudges his cheek with the chocolate. “Come on now, you cheeky little bastard, it’s not like you’re going to take this home to show off to mommy...or are you?” Oikawa’s obnoxious smile widens as Kageyama slams his fridge shut in silent protest. The boy takes too long to refute - normally he would’ve muttered his stupid uncreative “no I’m not” long ago - and Oikawa lowers his head, his smile unwavering, simmering into something frigid, as if he knew what Kageyama is about to say will absolutely piss him off, like always.
“Listen, Oikawa-san, I’m sorry for what I said earlier..”
“Uh, no, Tocio-chan, I’m not listening to you. Eat the damn chocolate.”
It should’ve just been their usual bantering, Oikawa being a jerk both on purpose and out of habit, but it came across as something more than that to even the densest of dense, that is Kageyama.
Kageyama sighed after their moment of stalemate, leaned back into Oikawa’s embrace and promptly opened his mouth, letting Oikawa do as he pleases. The latter pat him on the head with a shit eating grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It really is too sweet, Kageyama thought as he let the chocolate melt without chewing.
How crass; The both of them at the time.
But I knew there was something more when I first saw you. I just knew.
Kageyama whispers, looking through half lidded eyes into the sea of soft, brown hair glowing under golden light, settling down onto the shoulder of the person he spent what feels like all of his life chasing.
“Where did that come from, hm?”
Oikawa whispers back into his ear, chuckling softly, sending puffs of tickling warmth down his neck. “‘Cause you asked….at that time..” Kageyama says while hugging him back. The person right in his arms and thousands of miles away.
“Aren’t you awfully sentimental today, Tobio.”
Of course he is - as much as Kageyama hates to admit it. Years of his life went by without the boy inside of him ever finding solace in and amidst his chase for volleyball, and him. Oikawa Tooru; the name always at the back of his mind during every match, every touch of the ball - not quite tangible enough to be distracting, but unforgettable enough to keep him awake once or twice every year.
“You know,” Oikawa sighs as he gently strokes through Kageyama’s hair behind his ear, “I don’t know how to say this, this - I don’t have words yet. Maybe it's a sign that I should’ve been paying more attention in class,” he feels more than sees Kageyama laugh and chuckles along, “But. Stop laughing, just listen-”
His fingers bury themselves into Kageyama’s soft, silky hair and clutches on, pulling him even closer than before.
“I don’t know how to face you sometimes. And I-”
Kageyama wraps his hand around Oikawa’s in assurance when he trails off, all shaky breath and quavering beneath the perplexed look. Deep breath, Kageyama whispers, I’m listening.
“It’s silly, really.” Oikawa laughs because he really doesn't know how else to react, if at all. “I know it is, but when I saw you - three years ago, remember? - when I saw you playing against Shiratorizawa and nearly won us the game, I thought.. I thought wouldn’t it be better if I just, you know, stop getting in your way.”
You were never in my way, Kageyama said before getting interrupted.
“I know. I know it didn’t feel like it was that way for you. But I was.” Oikawa shakes his head in frustration, not necessarily at anyone in particular, “I thought that, wouldn’t that be how it’s always supposed to be? Aren’t I always the stubborn one with the tiny ego unwilling to admit that they’re just, not cut out for it?”
“I know it is, Tobio.“ Because whenever I searched for myself I only found you. “You don’t have to try to comfort me or anything.”
Oikawa finally pulls back. He bites his bottom lip in apprehension before searching Kageyama’s face for an answer. The latter, still processing whatever he just said, stays still with his eyebrows tightened together. And after what feels like an eternity, simply sighs.
“I won’t. You don’t need it anymore, right?”
He feels Oikawa laugh weakly before burying his face away again in the warm embrace, “aren’t you a smartass now, Tobio. I liked you better as a dumb kid.”
Pushing Kageyama away softly, Oikawa stands up without looking back.
“It’s getting dark. I’ll see you later.”
He sounds so tired and relieved all at once, and Kageyama can’t help but wonder if he messed this up again like he always does.The forlorn sense of not knowing what or how to do anything always frightened him, looming over him whenever Oikawa was involved-
“Oh, right. Before you go."
The door clicks shut, locking Kageyama into the corridor painted in off-white exile. His backpack heavier than when he came, weighing him down when he tries to leave the door framing his cramped shadow.
It’s the same as it’s always been. Kageyama reaches out and rests his hand on the wooden door, perfectly cut nails grazing over the worn crevasses, and it suddenly occurred to him how it seemed just a little less bulky than his younger self remembered it to be a few years ago. Maybe he can even reach the top of the door frame if he were to try.
He has no idea what occurred to him, maybe it’s a spur of the moment thing - these sure happen a lot when it comes to Oikawa - Kageyama swings his backpack off his shoulder and takes out what Oikawa gave him before basically kicking him out. There was no plastic wrapping around the minimalist container, its lid a monochrome imitation of roseate, signed off with nothing but a simple smiley face with its tongue blithely sticking out.
Oikawa has barely stepped away from the door when he hears Kageyama knocking on it with vigor. As surprised as he was baffled, it still doesn’t take him too long before giving into his concern.
He probably just forgot something, Oikawa thinks as he turns the doorknob.
Oikawa barely has the time to register the way Kageyama looked at him before the kid crashes into him. Stumbling backwards, Oikawa barely keeps both of them standing upright. With one hand on the wall and the other around Kageyama’s waist, Oikawa, not very befittingly, is struck with an odd sense of wonder for the first time when he noticed how much firmer Kageyama felt in his arms; or maybe it was rather the implication of it that left him dumbfounded.
Oikawa thought he had all the time in the world, but then he grew up; taking the naive little Tobio-chan away from him without even asking, isn’t that cruel?
But if that’s so, why does this Tobio here, frantic and heartachingly needy, remind him so much of what he used to look like in his arms?
Really, what is all this supposed to mean. Oikawa wonders as he searches through Kageyama’s pupils, blown wide with the reflection of him. But Kageyama doesn’t give him the chance to register what he saw as he leans forward, catching Oikawa’s lips as they fall open in awe.
The kiss tastes like everything they had, everything they ever were, and he almost wants to cry when Kageyama whispers his name with such unbefitting sweetness into their kiss.
“...I know you weren’t looking for an answer from me.” Kageyama says when they parted lips, wiping the last remnants of what bitter and sweet they once shared away with the palm of his hand. “But I-”
Maybe he didn’t think this through before acting on it, but the words come crashing to him - and oh did it take years for him to find them. Maybe he really will forever feel like a kid in front of Oikawa, but that won’t bother him anymore.
“Please don’t-” Kageyama whispers, still breathing heavily, and Oikawa could’ve sworn he looks just as vulnerable as the first time they kissed. “...don’t ever stop getting in my way. It bothers me if you don’t.” It bothers me when you’re not you.
How cheeky, Oikawa thinks as a tiny smile escapes him.
Although, what can he do about it? One pleading look from these eyes of stormy tides and his heart throbs in ways so painfully benign. Because whenever I searched for you, throughout the years of my life when I felt most alive…
“Come watch my game with Ushijima.” Kegeyama says, more determined than he’s ever seen him. “I will be the one to win.”
Not because you lost, no. But because I won.
Somehow Oikawa knew what this was about before he even opened the door again for him. How crass, Oikawa thinks as he lets out an incredulous laugh, yet couldn’t bring himself to conjure up the resentment.
“As you wish, then.”
Because whenever I searched for you I only found myself. 1