cw:hints at a past toxic/unhealthy relationship, might contain errors
wc:tbc
an:i wrote this half asleep
you‘ve dreaded for this moment to come.
you‘ve tried to drag it out for as long as you possibly could have. but one can only do so much when something, had already been written down on your faith book. all that dodging goes down the drain when his brown eyes look you up and down while he stands by the door way.
“hey.”
“oh,”
just by looking at him, you can feel all the memories hit you like a truck. all the things you‘ve done just to drag this moment for so long, falls straight to that hole, dragging you by your ankles.
“how‘re ya?” he smiles so sweetly as if he had not just broken your heart merely months ago, as if he hadn‘t ripped it into shreds right before your very eyes, speaking so casually as if he had not just left you there as a broken piece.
“what’re you doing here, oikawa?” you hate that you easily allowed him to walk into your life again just by ringing your doorbell. you hate how easy it is for him to walk back into your life and act so casually. you hate how easy it is for him to see your protective barriers dissolve into thin just because you saw him.
in short, you hate him.
“i just want to talk.” oh, there he goes again, seducing you with his tongue as he did before. those words of his, they fall so easily from his lips. whether he knows it or not, it surely makes an impact on you. an impact you wish would not sway you.
“i don‘t want to. goodbye.” is your stern reply before you shut the door out. there is no desire in you, nor does you brain allow you to talk to him. however your heart, it so deeply wants it, no matter how irrational it may seem.
and as if he had heard your heart‘s desire, he sets his foot between the frame and the shutter. his hand on the wooden door as he looks at you with his pleading brown eyes.
“please,” he pleads. you hate it. “i‘ve— i‘ve got no one else to walk to. you‘re the only one i‘ve got left. i— i can‘t hold it in anymore.”
you hate him.
you hate this situation.
you hate it all.
you hate it so much because you allow him to walk into your home with his face falling into the crook of his neck. you swallow thickly as you shut the door with your foot, feeling his tears fall unto your skin as his hands clutch your waist ever so tightly; like you‘d run away if he doesn‘t.
as you lead him to the kitchen with his sobs falling past his lips, you also feel your tears brim your eyes. all your efforts are gone, simple as that, within the blink of an eye, gone as if it had never existed in the first place. you tried so hard to move on. for months and months on end, actively distracting yourself so hard to get over him.
it was stupid of you to think you‘re actually over him when you know deep inside you‘d let him so easily walk back into your life like this.
“i can‘t do this anymore, (y/n)!” he cries. a bottle of wine in his hand as he curls himself on the corner. you wish to yell ’so can‘t i!’ at him as well, but you can‘t. if you do so, you feel like you‘d break your fragile heart even more.
time passes just like that. and now it‘s quarter past three. you‘re intoxicated, and so is he. he‘s a sobbing mess, and you‘re no better.
“c— can‘t we just go back to the way it was? before.. before it was all so complicated..?” he cries, looking at you with pleading eyes. with those words, you only feel more tears bleed from your eyes as your skin grows warmer.
“tooru—” you stutter, clenching your fists as you wrap your hands around yourself. “we- we can‘t keep doing this, okay? i— i can‘t be your friend, we— i— we‘ve just gone through so much! and i feel that if we become friends again, it would just through away everything we had had. everything we kept so sacredly would be nothing.”
“no! i— we can try again—!”
“no we can‘t!” you finally exclaim. fat tears are dripping harshly from your eyes as you put your hands on your head, clenching the roots of your hair tightly. “no matter how hard we fucking try it‘s never going to work out! the ending will always be the same because— for fuck sake— you and i were never meant to be in the first place!”
as much as it hurts you to say so, you have to say it. the truth hurts, and it always will.
“so please… don‘t make it harder than it already is. we can‘t keep doing this anymore, tooru.” you mumble through your sobs and he looks at you with his tears already down his neck, flowing harshly like a river.
silence wallows you both. only the sounds of tears, sniffles, and sobs echo throughout the room. the smell of heartbreak reeks harshly in the air, evading the once cool air, causing it to go stuffy.
“i guess— i guess we‘re never going to be it, huh?” he bitterly says to himself, looking at the ground as he swallows hard. “there really is no going anywhere with what he had, right?” he grits through his teeth, looking up and swallowing as he holds back the sobs stuck in his throat.
“tell me, did me showing up ruin things for you?” it seems like he has become sober, as if all the alcohol he had downed went out of his body. “because when i came here, i couldn‘t get a grip on myself. i wanted to maybe see, see if you would still take me in. i wore the things you like so that i‘d make even the slightest appeal. but i guess— i guess it won‘t do shit.” his voice falters with every line due to the emotions stuck on his throat.
you have no idea as to what you should say, because in truth, you‘re no better than he is. there is not a single bone in your body that‘s not telling you to run to back to him, but your mind seems to freeze your movements, saving you from the heartache.
“we- we never really went anywhere else, tooru.” you shakily sigh, looking down at him as you bite your lower lip. “so, we shouldn‘t be eachother‘s reason as to why we can‘t fall in love with someone else.”
you feel like dying as he nods, showing that he‘s agreeing. you don‘t want him to agree. no matter how much it hurt you and traumatized you to be with him, you can‘t just put him in the back of your head to be eventually forgotten.
“if— if this is then— let me— i—” he can‘t even comprehend a proper sentence. hands in his hair as he bawls his eyes out right there. you don‘t even notice it, when he runs up to you and hugs you so tightly. his hands are on your waist as he cries on to you, head above yours as he smells the familiar smell of your shampoo, hugging you tightly as he kisses your head. “i— i‘m sorry. we— i broke us off. i‘m sorry i broke your heart. but i can‘t let you go. my heart leads to you all the time, no matter where i am.”
“tooru—”
“but if me clinging unto you will hurt you more, then so be it.” he sadly whispers, giving you one last squeeze as he kisses your forehead lovingly, tears damping you up. “i won‘t drag this further. i‘ll set you free, set me in the past, and move on. i‘ll just take what i have left here so that you move on and forget about me.”
you can‘t even respond, unable to move as he walks past you, straight to your room. it breaks your heart worse, hearing him rummage through the closet you both once shared. it‘d been left untouched, you left it be. maybe because a part of you really hoped to let him back in. yet it with the turn of events, it won‘t happen anymore.
you stand there for as long as he finishes. he finally has everything he owns. the book you both read, the stuffed toy of him that he gave you, his highschool jersey that you loved so much, the shoes he owns that matches with yours, and lastly, the photo album you had made for him.
“i— i‘ve got it all.” he whispers, looking down as he clenches his full hands hard. “i‘m— going. i won‘t hurt you any longer.” his eyes never failed to meet yours as he speaks and he doesn‘t dare take a step towards you, in fear that if he does, then maybe he won‘t be able to leave after all.
“so maybe, this is goodbye.” he chuckles grimly with a forced smile, yet you cannot seem to return to him. not the chuckle. not the bitter smile. yet instead, the goodbye.
as the old saying goes, saying goodbye entails that you‘ll never see them ever again. you can‘t even bring yourself to speak as he walks away with a heavy heart, sobbing quietly before the door closes so loudly yet so quietly behind him. silence envelopes you as you fall to the ground before loud wails of heartbreak come from you.
now that he‘s gone, said his goodbye, he‘s no longer coming back, and now you‘ll be forced to let him stay merely in your memories.
content belongs to @shisnhou on tumblr! do not repost, copy, use, or modify!
warnings: swearing, suggestive content (17+), college drinking, college partying, breakdown
genre: fluff (?), angst, best friends, aged up characters
word count: ~2k words
a/n:hello friends!! enjoy this glimpse into what’s going on in my life through fanfiction bc writing is how i cope :) im glad to be writing for the first time in forever ! [btw, yes, this is about the boy i was talking about on here <3 ] pls reblog and enjoy xx
“hey… you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”
you nudged his shoulder, hoping to wake him up. he let out a small groan, causing you to chuckle. the soft music echoed throughout your dorm room, only he was too tired to notice. you patted him again. instead of getting up, he moved closer to you and rested his head in your lap.
warnings: swearing, suggestive content (17+), college drinking, college partying, breakdown
genre: fluff (?), angst, best friends, aged up characters
word count: ~2k words
a/n:hello friends!! enjoy this glimpse into what’s going on in my life through fanfiction bc writing is how i cope :) im glad to be writing for the first time in forever ! [btw, yes, this is about the boy i was talking about on here <3 ] pls reblog and enjoy xx
“hey… you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”
you nudged his shoulder, hoping to wake him up. he let out a small groan, causing you to chuckle. the soft music echoed throughout your dorm room, only he was too tired to notice. you patted him again. instead of getting up, he moved closer to you and rested his head in your lap.
warnings: swearing, suggestive content (17+), college drinking, college partying, breakdown
genre: fluff (?), angst, best friends, aged up characters
word count: ~2k words
a/n:hello friends!! enjoy this glimpse into what’s going on in my life through fanfiction bc writing is how i cope :) im glad to be writing for the first time in forever ! [btw, yes, this is about the boy i was talking about on here <3 ] pls reblog and enjoy xx
“hey… you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”
you nudged his shoulder, hoping to wake him up. he let out a small groan, causing you to chuckle. the soft music echoed throughout your dorm room, only he was too tired to notice. you patted him again. instead of getting up, he moved closer to you and rested his head in your lap.
you didn’t expect to be spending your friday night like this. you didn’t think your friday night would lead to this. yet, it did.
it started out as every innocent weekend does. you were just looking to have a good time. one of your good friends, bokuto kotaro, always seemed to have something going on in his room, so you decided to go there.
however, you didn’t go alone.
you went with your best friend.
oikawa tooru.
you first went to his room. oikawa opened the door with a dashing smile as he always did and let you inside. he handed you a water bottle.
“i already made you your mix,” he said.
“what a good friend you are.”
“the best, i know.”
the two of you made your way to bokuto’s dorm, already feeling the affects of your drink. you could hear the music from down the hall.
“yooo! we got y/n and tooru here!” shouted kuroo, bokuto’s roommate. you laughed and joined in on the fun.
you liked these little dorm parties. they were harmless. just a group of friends getting together. however, every time you went to one of those dorm parties, there seemed to be something in the air.
“take a shot y/n!” insisted makki. you smiled, taking the small glass and downing it.
“that’s my girl!” said oikawa, causing your face to grow warm.
“hey now you gotta take one,” you teased. oikawa smirked, pouring himself a shot and taking it as if it were water.
as the night progressed and people began to reach their limits, you found yourself snuggled up on a bean bag with your best friend.
your best friend whom you’ve liked since the day you met him.
you stared up at the ceiling, watching the l.e.d lights above you blur onto one color. you looked over your shoulder at oikawa, who was on the brink of passing out. you patted his chest.
“don’t fall asleep.”
oikawa opened his eyes and chuckled.
“im wide awake.”
you could finally feel some clarity as the alcohol was wearing off. you looked around the darkened room as your friends held back each other’s hair and people were passed out on the futon. you looked at oikawa.
“we should go.”
you wobbled your way to the elevator, holding oikawa’s hand as you went in. he was practically begging for your attention. you clicked the button back to your floor, where he also lived.
you couldn’t just leave him like this. his roommate wouldn’t help him and you knew he’d be a wreck all alone. so, you led him to your room instead.
your roommate went home every weekend. you honestly liked having the room to yourself. it made situations like this easier.
and that led you to where you were now. sitting on your bedroom floor as he slept besides you. his soft breathing tickled your thighs. you ran your fingers through his brown hair, something you never thought would happen out of a platonic context. was all this platonic? you didn’t know. you soon would.
tooru shifted closer to you, nestling into your lap. you felt his hands snake under your shorts as he played with your underwear. you sighed.
the two of you laid there for hours it seemed. he was fast asleep while you pondered what was happening. he had to have known what he was doing.
suddenly, tooru got up and stretched out his arms. you looked at him with widened eyes. he yawned.
“your bed is probably way more comfortable than the floor.”
oikawa made his way to your bed, climbing up and getting under the covers as if he owned it. you took a deep breath and got into bed with him.
“hey,”you whispered. oikawa looked at you and gave you a tired smile.
“hey pretty girl.”
you felt your stomach clench at his words. why did he have to say that. you gulped.
“tooru i…i like you,” you whispered. oikawa sat up, placing his hand on your cheek.
“really?”
“yes really. i like you,” you admitted. oikawa leaned in a bit closer to you, making your heart flutter.
“okay.”
oikawa pulled you towards him into a kiss. you had been waiting for this moment, so what else were you to do but kiss him back. kiss him like your life depended on it. you kissed him and everything felt perfect. like this was how things were supposed to be.
you stared into his eyes. his eyes that seem to encapsulate every reason why you liked him so much. so much more than just as your best friend. you memorized every sound he made and how he made you feel. you memorized every word he said and how you believed them to be true. as you dug your nails into his soft skin, you couldn’t help but realize how beautiful he was. you wondered if he thought you were beautiful in this moment too.
you pulled the covers over your bare body and snuggled into his chest. as the two of you caught your breath and he turned off the lights, you thought what could happen next. what will come of this night? certainly you couldn’t stay best friends now. there was something there. there had to be something between you two, or so you hoped.
~
you asked to talk to him. he asked why. you said you just thought it was best to speak in person. he said okay.
you made your way to his room, just as you had a million times before. why was this time different?
“hey,” he said. you smiled, letting yourself in. you sat down on his couch, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater.
“so what’s up?”
you took a deep breath.
“i just wanted to talk and see where your head is at since…um…these last two weeks have been kinda weird,” you explained. oikawa chuckled.
“i kinda figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”
two weeks. this has been going on for two weeks. staying in his room, sending flirty texts, confessing how much you missed him when he would leave. and he played along. for two weeks.
“look, y/n, i like you and you’re one hundred percent my type,” he began, “but, im just not in the place for a relationship right now. i think we should just stay friends. but hey, if anything happens in the future that’s cool too.”
you nodded at every word he said, even though it went in one ear and out the other. once you finally realized what he had said, you felt your heart crack.
but you couldn’t let him know that.
“right. that’s for the best.”
oikawa smiled and patted you on the back.
“i knew you’d understand. wanna watch a movie?”
~
it was another friday night, except this time you were alone. you laid in your bed, alone. he was just down the hall. you could go and see him. you missed him, and he was only a couple hundred feet away. what you wanted was for him to just hold you. not platonically.
you got up from your bed and walked over to his room. it was normal for you to come over unannounced. you were best friends after all.
you gave his door your signature knock and waited for his response.
“oh hey,” he smiled.
“can i come in?”
“of course”
as the credits of the movies rolled, you couldn’t help but look over at tooru every few seconds just to check if he was looking at you too.
he was.
oikawa moved closer to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around you. you slowly made eye contact with him and as he shot you that look, you knew what was happening next.
his lips felt like a cloud, his kisses a dream. everytime you tried to back away, he drew you back in. he was always drawing you back in.
“w-wait-“ you insisted. oikawa gave you a confused look.
“everything okay?”
“tooru…i thought you wanted to be just friends.”
“i do.”
“then why are we doing this?”
oikawa scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously.
“come on y/n…all this is just friendly.”
you felt your heart crack again.
“what?”
oikawa gave you a pat on the back.
“it’s just platonic.”
you stared at him for at least two minutes. blank expression. you got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth.
“uh y/n-“
“so you like me, but not enough to date me, and you think everything we’ve been doing has just been out of friendship?” you shouted. tooru’s face was now blank.
“look y/n-“
“you have been toying with me for weeks, tooru! and i let you! you know why?”
“w-why-“
“because im fucking in love with you! oh my god tooru im in love with you and you treat me like shit!” you screamed. your anger turned to sadness as you felt tears roll down your cheek. oikawa got up and stood in front of you.
“y/n you have to know i never meant to hurt you. i just wasn’t thinking and i didn’t expect this to happen the way it did…like i didn’t even know you liked me-“
“how! how did you not know? i even told you!”
“well i didn’t think you were so serious…”
you looked into those dark brown eyes, something you used to love to do. now, you looked into his eyes and saw yourself. a crying mess in front of him.
“why don’t you love me?” you pleaded. oikawa sighed.
“you know i care about you y/n. you’re my best friend and i can’t lose you. but i just can’t give you what you want. i’m sorry.”
your heart finally broke.
he wasn’t sorry. you didn’t believe him. you wanted him to lie. fake being in love with you because you were so in love with him. so in love it drove you insane.
“im gonna go.”
“y/n don’t go-“
“tooru, i need a minute. please.”
oikawa grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. your red eyes stared him down.
“come in y/n. you’re my best friend. you can’t be mad at me, right?”
you trembled in his grasp. you couldn’t stop crying. you felt like a fool.
“no, i can’t. unfortunately im too in love with you to hate you.”
you broke away from tooru and walked out the door.
~
it was excruciating.
the pain.
you didn’t even date him. why on earth did it hurt so bad? it was so much worse than anything you had felt before.
you gripped into your pillow, sobbing until the fabric would change color. before, when you were sad, you would go to tooru. now, he was the reason why you were sad. so you had no where to go. you couldn’t avoid him. after all, he lived just a few doors down and he still technically was your best friend. you had no choice but to fake it. fake that you were fine when he asked to study or grab lunch. fake this feeling of happiness to mask your heartbreak. all for him.
everything that happened was meaningless.
it was meaningless in the way you wanted it to be. it meant everything to you and nothing to him.
summary:y/n and toru have been best friends since diapers, getting into all sorts of trouble along the way. it seems there’s nothing that could tear them apart, not iwa-chan, not toru’s weird obsession with aliens; even the move to tokyo couldn’t hinder their friendship. so… how would they fare upon realising that their platonic feelings aren’t quite platonic anymore?
content warnings: mention(s) of seizure, mature language, depictions(?) of a panic attack
word count:5.4K
note(s):you’ll find a few unknown names in this chapter, it’s just the names of y/n’s relatives. decided to give them some because why not? ♀️
- also, i switch between ‘hanae’ and ‘your mother’ a lot. same thing with ‘kenji’ and ‘your father’.
- if there’s any mistakes in here, my care is so far gone. at this point, when the tags are added it bugs out and i can’t edit the chapter ever again lol :> enjoy, it don’t, whatever you feel like
“You know the cashier was considering calling the cops on you.” Was the first thing you said once you emerged from the small convenience store. Oikawa whipped around with eyes as wide as saucers.
“What?Why?” The mere thought of being approached by unhappy officers sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. “I-I wasn’t doing anything!” You shrugged, readjusting the plastic bag suspended from your fingers. When you took the first couple of steps, it took him a moment to register your movement before he took up the space right beside you.
“Maybethat was why. You looked mad suspicious, Toru.” He fumbled for his words, brows furrowing with deepening frustration the more incoherent he became. Before too long, his cheeks resembled that of everlasting flames; a hue of burning red that seemed to spread across the expanse of his skin with no end in sight. Your lips twitched and curved up into a jubilant smile as the visible warmth latched onto his ears, going as far as to creep along the exposed skin of his neck.
Oikawa’s lips tightened; an attempt to quell the rising embarrassment that flooded forth.
“How on earth was I ‘mad suspicious’?” He bent his fingers as he quoted you, arching a brow smoothly, scrutinising gaze upon your face. “I was just standingthere!”
You laughed, recounting the anxiety written into the employee’s face as they served you, occasionally glancing through the large window towards Oikawa. They had even asked youforyour opinion; whether they should actually call the police or not, quickly prompting an awkward explanation that he wasn’t intentionally being suspicious, just waiting patiently for you.
Oikawa grumbled, turning away as his skin upheld its new crimson tint, his volleyball jacket suddenly becoming far too hot to handle. His fingers toyed temporarily with the zipper before pulling it down, fussing with the flaps of the jacket. The sigh that fled from his lips caught your attention rather quickly, though you dropped your gaze to the cracked pavement.
“It shouldn’t be much further.” You could sense his confusion even without looking at him. “Th-the hospital, I mean.”
“Ah, right. It’s just up ahead. I can see it.” Oikawa nodded, hands falling away from the hem of his jacket. “I, uh, don’t think you actually told me what happened this morning… after I left?” The lack of traffic alongside the road allowed his hesitant words to flow through the air easily, drawing a soft hum from your lips.
“Right, I guess I got distracted by the locker incident… thought I told you.” You knew you had forgotten something; it had been bugging you since first class of the day. “Well, when you left we figured we’d go check on him and see if he was ready to eat or at least awake.” You gripped the plastic bag tighter as the short memories faded in and out, such as your father’s bedroom door only slightly ajar.
“We went in and… I didn’t think anything was wrong at first until ‘ma came in right after.” Oikawa slipped his hands into his pockets, listening intently to your words, unfazed by the shakiness in your tone (or so he thought). His hand flexed subconsciously within his pocket, itching to reach out and grasp yours in a comforting hold. “She started panicking because it looked like he’d just been seizing, which hasn’t ever happened before… a-and then we couldn’t wake him up.”
He felt his heart leap up into his throat. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would have felt upon discovering your father in such a state. He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to offer any words of consolation.
“‘Ma called an ambulance and then called his parents and his sister… so they weren’t left in the dark, you know?” You lifted your head for what seemed like the first time in forever, sparing your friend a quick, pitiful glance before gazing ahead at the hospital. “Apparently an argument sparked up which was just the icing on the shit cake. But, I’d already left before all that went down; I wasn’t really interested in sitting in another hospital room for god-knows how long…” You pursed your lips, head tilted to the side as you stared ahead, taking in the slow-growing traffic.
“That sounded really bad… it’s not that I don’t want to be there with him—of course, I do—it-it’s just…”
“No, no.” Oikawa interrupted, waving his hand. “I get it. I bet your parents would understand, too. Hospitals can really take it out of a person, even when you’re not the one stuck in the bed.” He bit his tongue, hoping that the words he was mindlessly letting slip were the right ones. He assumed they were after spotting the grateful smile that wandered onto your lips.
“I know it pretty much pales in comparison, but when my nephew was in hospital for a broken leg, it was exhausting just sitting there with him for a couple of hours.” You tilted your head at the mention of said nephew. “You can bet Akiko was beyond the point of exhaustion after all that.” You grimaced, waves of sympathy emanating off of you for his sister.
“Yeah… ‘ma never really got back to sleeping properly after his first admission to hospital…” you sighed, “and that was ages ago.” Oikawa’s brows furrowed, studying the gentle way you peeked down into your bag, carefully readjusting the unhealthy snacks you had—without a doubt—slipped in. A vague curve made your lips twitch for a moment before you looked back up, the curve flattening unhappily.
You couldn’t say you didn’t feel his unmoving gaze, boring holes into the side of your head; that would be lying. You simply chose not to acknowledge it, fearing you would be reduced to a puddle of embarrassment; uncharacteristically bashful beneath his watchful eyes. With the rampant thoughts and racing voices that trekked through your mind, you would have spilled instantly. The second you met those anxious pools of earthy hues, reminiscent to that of autumnal leaves—speckled with gorgeous displays of colour—you would have lost the plot you loosely held together.
Avery awkward silence cruised into the atmosphere around the two of you, though neither you or Oikawa spoke to clear the air. He exhaled deeply, turned his head and followed your line of sight until he was staring at the underwhelming stature of the hospital, an unsettling feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.
Herefused to interrupt the quiet. As the two of you wandered through the small hospital after receiving the room number, close enough for your arms to keep brushing, he didn’t dare speak. From the slight crease of your brows, Oikawa knew you were amidst your thoughts; processing, most likely. Despite the familiarity, your current predicament seemed to require just as much processing as before.
The closer you got to the designated room, the more you began to fidget with the bag in your hand. Oikawa tipped his head towards the faint rustling of the plastic, spotting the anxiety that adorned your features. A mumble itched in his throat, momentarily stealing your attention away from the shining tiles lining the halls.
“You still breathing over there?” Oikawa quipped softly as the two of you slowed to a synchronised halt, eyeing the number engraved into the closed door. You hummed, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sorry, I-I just… you’re very quiet and I was worried…” He sputtered, fingertips grazing over his wrist.
“Mm… I’m okay… f-for now, at least.” You opened the bag and looked over the contents one last time, assuring yourself that you hadn’t missed anything. You blew out a heavy sigh, gripping onto the plastic material before gazing back up at the boy beside you. “Thanks for this, Toru…”
Oikawa’s lips parted swiftly, an onslaught of words on the tip of his tongue only to be reduced to nothing as a hand crept along his clothed forearm. His eyes shot down, staring at your fingers as they wrapped around his limb as best as they could. When you tipped your head, peeking up to check for a response, he smiled. It was a smile so familiar yet so foreign, in the sense that it was stirring about an unfamiliar reaction.
“Quite frankly, I feel you shouldn’t have more of a say in this situation than we do,” a disdainful voice hissed quietly as the two of you entered the room, “considering we’rehisblood relatives.” Oikawa flinched as your grip tightened, briefly glancing down at your hardened expression.
“He’s my husband… surely, that has to count for something?” Your mother fought back in the same hushed tone, seated close by the hospital bed with her hand tightly resting within the sickly man’s. Your grandmother sat on the opposite side of the bed, an arm propped up against the low-hanging window sill as she directed an ugly scowl towards her daughter-in-law. Clearly, there wasn’t an ounce of shame in the old woman’s body as the bitter expression remained upon her face, not once faltering when you and Oikawa entered.
“Hi,” you whispered, slowly removing your mask, “how is he..?”
Your mother turned her head and—despite the warm smile that greeted you—the exhaustion in her eyes was clear as day. She tightened her grip on her husband’s hand, lifting it only slightly for you to see.
“He doesn’t go down without a fight, you know that, sweetheart.” Her tone was shaky, gaze shifting from you to Oikawa slowly. “How was school today, you two?”
A thousand words flew to your tongue, ready to pierce the air, yet they stilled; clinging onto the very tip. An abyssal dread tore open in the depths of your stomach as you silently recounted the day and the many that came before it. There were a multitude of issues you ached to share with her, all revolving around a single person who’d brought more harm than good in only a short matter of time. The nagging guilt in the back of your mind prevented any and every word from escaping. She already had enough on her plate. It would be selfish to try and overshadow the critical condition that tied your father to his hospital bed.
“U-uh, it was alright,” Oikawa sputtered, his free hand wandering up to his nape, “there was a pop quiz in maths but I’m confident we both did fairly well.” You lifted your head as the lie fell smoothly from his lips, subconsciously squeezing his forearm. His eyes met yours sneakily for a moment before he turned his attention back to your mother, a sympathetic frown attached to his features.
“Well, that’s good… I knew I shouldn’t have been too worried,” she hummed, her head tilted back as she gazed at the ceiling, silently whispering another string of prayers; you were certain that particular lot were for your father. Her head dropped back slowly, attention switching back to the resting man. You awkwardly stood by Oikawa, cautious gaze flickering between the three women in the room as you fiddled with the plastic bag. Your grandmother was still hunched over in her chair, maintaining the same unmoving scowl as she glanced at you, not a sliver of guilt behind her thin, wrinkled eyes.
Oikawa shuddered lightly, subconsciously pulling you closer to his side; courtesy of your unrelenting grip on his arm. He never recalled the frail, old lady being so… terrifying with such little effort. From the tiny glance he shot your way, he found that it was a new sight for you as well; her crinkling features ripe with anger, blood no doubt boiling beneath her skin. When she peered away from your mother, scrutinising over the pair of you still standing idly by the door, you dropped your head.
There was hardly any room between you and Oikawa as you stepped even closer, unnerved by the silence and the thick tension that hung heavy in the air. There was a spurt of movement beside you as he readjusted, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. You were certain his thoughts were nothing more than ‘well, this is awkward…’, a cliche cough spilling from his lips in a futile attempt to clear the air.
“Here, Y/n,” he called softly, stepping away momentarily, “wanna sit?” You looked over as the boy gently tugged an empty chair back to where you stood, visibly cringing at the numbing screech while it pushed against the tile. A soft hum vibrated through your lips that twitched at the corners; seemingly contagious to him and him only as his own smile adorned his lips.
“Thanks.” You whispered, sliding your hand along his forearm as you moved to sit down, only to stop halfway through. “Oh, but… what about you? Don’t you wanna sit?” He shook his head, dropping his hands to your shoulders to gently guide you into the chair.
“I’ll be fine, strawberry,” he whispered to the back of your head, just loud enough for you to hear, “you looked tired. I wanted you to sit down and relax for a moment, at least.” You caved and nodded along to his words, grateful for his presence that radiated a soothing sense of serenity in large, comforting waves. It was just what you needed to keep from succumbing to the pressuring knots growing and tangling under your grandmother’s influence. You noted that he’d kept one hand atop your shoulder, occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze to quell any rising nerves.
“Mama,please…” At the exasperated plea that sounded from your mother’s helpless lips, you peeked up. “We don’t need to have another argument right now… especially not in front of the children.”
Oikawa’s mind itched, an instinctive need to let one of his infamous quips slip out tickling the back of his throat. We’re not ‘children’ anymore, he would’ve chirped in any other situation. Your highschool days were nearly over; that had to count for something, right?
“I am not your mother, Hanae.” She shot back, pupils thinning even further with each slow, irate blink. “And we’ll have this conversation as many times as I please, whether these two are here or not. That is my son in that bed; my son hooked up to all of those nasty machines.” You chose to sink back into your chair, cradling the plastic bag in your lap as you patiently awaited your mother’s interjection. Usually, she’d have no qualms about biting back, one to quickly jump from one point to the next with incredible precision.
Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he peered between the two older women, stares intense enough to pierce the strongest of metals with their heat.
“So, you agree that the machines are ‘nasty’?”
“Clearly.” Her hardened stare softened when she glanced down at her son. “I don’t want him to need them 24/7 like he did the whole time you were in Tokyo. But… if it keeps him alive, I don’t see an issue with it.”
“Kenjitold you he hates them. He told you that if he were ever in this situation again…” Your mother cut herself off, sucking in a deep exhale. “Did you just choose not to acknowledge him then? You do realise that he’s the one who knows what’s best for him, right? Not you.”
“Well,clearly he’s incapable of figuring out what’s ‘best for him’! I mean, you were far from his first choice, Hanae.” You grimaced, attention immediately jumping towards your mother as she stilled, face contorted into horrific shock. “And now you’re trying to take away the only thing keeping him alive?”
“H-hey, maybe we should all calm down?” Oikawa called out cautiously, a hand hovering in the air. He visibly flinched when your grandmother whipped around, eyeing his figure up and down meticulously. “I-I mean… maybe hereandnow isn’t the best place for one of your ‘discussions’..?” He worded it carefully, eyes darting back and forth between the three ladies now staring at him, and yourself—too busy readjusting the treats in the plastic bag to notice.
He swallowed thickly, fingers moving towards the loose seams of his jacket.
“I-I just don’t think he would like the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be the most important people in his life arguing.” There was yet another silence that passed through the small room, somehow shoving away the overwhelming scent of cleanliness and leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. He watched as the old lady—once soft and benevolent—hunched forward, glaring daggers straight at his anxious figure.
“I don’t recommend getting yourself caught up in family matters that don’t even concernyou,boy.” You raised your head gradually, fingers falling away from the unreliable straps of the bag. “Last time I checked, you weren’t apart of this family. Unless there’s something else you’ve decided to hide from me, Hanae?” She spat angrily, bouncing her frustrations back towards your irritated mother. Oikawa could only stand in silence, astonished by the declaration of harsh facts. Your grandmother had always considered his family—and Iwaizumi’s, too—as an extension of her own, even without the same blood running through their veins—through hisveins.Hell, she’d always be the first to volunteer babysitting because she adored the three of you.
He didn’t know exactly what had contorted her mind, nor what had rotted the kindness in her heart and replaced it with suffocating toxicity. He could only assume it had something to do with the sickly male shifting about in his hospital bed.
“Toru’s right.” You interjected, saving your mother some breath. “And, with all due respect, I think you should watch what you’re saying.” You wanted to sink back into your chair, to hide behind the wall of muscle stood beside you; at least that’s what your rapidly thrumming heart desired. It was a wild animal, caged behind rows of fragile ribs with a burning desire for freedom; untameable.
She whipped her head around, lip curled in distaste, “I should watch what I’m saying? Where are your manners, Y/n? Speaking out of turn like that?” You bit your tongue accidentally as you looked away, slowly stepping back towards your chair. “I suppose it’s as they say; like mother, like daughter. It’s no surprise you’re taking pages from herbook.”
Why were you backing down? Oikawa’s gaze followed you in confusion as you sat once more, avoiding all contact with the others in the room. You had just harboured an admirable amount of confidence that sent a rhythm of tingles along his spine, confidence that had disappeared as quickly as it arose.
“Kenji?” Briefly intrigued, he picked his gaze up from your slouched figure and back towards the frail women, an unusual smile curved upon her lips; a stark contrast to the uncouth tones she’d thrown about moments before. The man was shifting, groaning and grumbling beneath ragged breaths. “Oh, sweetheart… I cannot believe your ‘wonderful’ wife wants to take away everything keeping you here with me…”
“Okay,mama,” Hanae called out, standing from her chair. “If you’re not doneyet,we can stand outside until you are. I’m not about to have this argument again, especially in front of Kenji after all he’s been through… I think Y/n deserves some time with her father anyway.”
“Foolish of you to think that I’ll be leaving my darling’s side.” The words she spat, full of resentment, practically bounced off your mother. Hanae was fed up, that much was true.
“Mama, come on.” The third lady who had been sitting silently in the room spoke up, hand resting wrapping around her mother’s arm, shielding whatever mottled skin was there from view. Her grip, although seemingly gentle, was tight; just shy of bruising. Without much else to say, the bitter elder got up on unsteady legs and followed the two women outside, the door closing behind them.
Oikawa stared for a moment, processing the entire situation in a devastating amount of time. His heart hurt, his head hurt. For himself, for Kenji but mostly for you.
“I-I’m so sorry about all that, Toru…” you murmured guiltily, lifting your head once more as a look of embarrassment landed upon your pained features. “I didn’t think that—“
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone copes with stress differently, I guess…” he shrugged it off as best as he could, allowing whatever anxiety remained teetering on his shoulders to slide gracefully off the side for the time being. “Anyway, he’s awake now. Let’s show him what you brought, okay? Forget about everything else for a little while…”
You shot up abruptly, eyes glazing over the man struggling to sit upright beneath several otherwise light covers. Oikawa trailed behind you as you shuffled over to the bedside, quietly calling out to your father as a means of comfort. You handed the bag off to Oikawa—who noted the way the straps were nearly severed, held together by a few loose strands of worn plastic—and grabbed onto your father’s shoulder, slowly helping him adjust to the bed.
“How-how do you feel?” You stuttered out and, by the downward pull of your brows, Oikawa could easily sense your nerves regarding his answer. Kenji blinked irregularly, trying to rid of the haze in his eyes as a hand blindly searched for yours. “I’m right here. Do you feel alright?” His hand, much larger than your own, wrapped snug around your fingers, a content hum vibrating through his body. His hum was soon cut off by a harrowing coughing fit.
You sucked in a sharp breath, pulling your hands away instinctively as the man lurched forwards, chest convulsing painfully as he wheezed and gasped. Your hands fell to your lap, a dreaded sense of helplessness fogging your mind; there wasn’t a single thing you could do to ease his pain, to make it all go away—and it hurt. It hurt, realbad. So much so, you hadn’t even registered the hand that had become attached to your shoulder, squeezing it unbearably tight.
“Hah…” He breathed out when the fit weakened. “Never felt better, kiddo.”
“You’re not funny…”
“No? I-I think I’m quite hilarious,” he grinned back weakly, resting his arm against the thin railing protruding from the side of the bed. Your eyes raked over each prominent vein that branched beneath thin, sickly skin, bulging uncomfortably in the light.
“What do you think, young man?” He called out, gaining Oikawa’s attention immediately. “I’m…-I am funny, right?” With a nervous quirk of his lips, Oikawa laughed, giving into the older man’s unspoken request to follow along.
“Funniest man I’ve ever had the pleasure to know,” he admitted, noting how you paused to glare at him from the corner of your eye.
“Don’tencouragehim,please.”
“Oh, sweetheart, relax…” Kenji wheezed, lifting a heavy hand to your head. You winced temporarily as it dropped haphazardly against your hair, rough fingers digging in as far as they could. All in a loving manner, of course. “Say, what’s in your little bag there?” You shifted away, gently placing his hand back into the bed beside his restless figure as you turned to reach for Oikawa. He carefully handed off the bag to you, his free hand tracing over one of your shoulders towards the other.
“We stopped by that little convenience store on the way here… y-you know? The one you used to take us to when we were little?” You toyed with the thin strips of plastic, lips tugging upwards as your father made a noise of excitement, fond of the distant memory. “We got you a few things…but… now that I think about it, you probably can’t even eat them, huh?”
Oikawa gave your head a sympathetic pat.
“I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the thought, whether or not he can eat them.” You smiled, subconsciously leaning into his touch as his comforting words spilled from lips to ears.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard… a more c-correct statement in my en-tire life.” Your father croaked, stuttering and stumbling over a few words and occasionally pausing to find breath. Although your lips were curved upwards into a pretty little smile, the sadness shone through clear as day. In spite of that, to maintain your father’s happiness, you slowly began to pick out each sweet treat one at a time; Oikawa noted how animated—how euphoric—you grew as the exchanges continued.
He pulled your grandmother’s chair over to sit beside you, elbows resting against his knees as he held in his chin in his hands; only to shift quickly after, seeking a more comfortable position. He leaned over his favoured side of the chair—the right side, aka;your side. Oikawa’s gaze switched frequently between you and Kenji, scanning for the ill man’s reactions to each hidden treat you removed from the bag. Each one was seemingly brighter than the last, etching one of equal width onto your own lips. Occasionally, when he wasn’t stuck in stillness by the silencing grin of adoration inching further into his cheeks, he would offer up a laugh at your father’s jokes, only to fall quiet when your elbow launched out and gently nudged him.
“You always used to get this mochi, right?” You hummed, crumpling up the plastic bag and dropping it by your feet as you brought out the final package. “Why was it always this gross off-brand?”
Kenji, feigning shock, took the small package with trembling hands, “they aren’t gross! You little monster… th-these are a delicacy!”
“Toru? You have to agree with me on this one, right?” You turned to face him, a wisp of a smile upon your face. Kenji also spared him a quick glance, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Sorry, Sir,” he sighed, cracking a soft grin as you grabbed onto his forearm with exaggerated excitement. “This off-brand mochi was the worst.” Kenji tossed his head back against his pillows, a string of broken cackles drifting into the air as you directed an ‘aggressive’ point in his direction.
“See? I was right! Your taste buds have always been messedup.”
His laughter fell into a sickening fit of coughing, soon becoming hand-in-hand with heart-wrenching gasps for air. His smile was long gone, vein-riddled hand reaching for the bed’s railing for a tiny sense of stability. Your figure went rigid, grip tightening around Oikawa’s forearm as your eyes flickered about. The same flood of hopelessness, dreaded by both teenagers, overwhelmed the room in a mere matter of seconds. Monitors beeped, a tiny red light blinked angrily, a flurry of feet stomped about outside of the door.
In that moment… every single sound… no matter how quiet or loud, how seemingly insignificant; they all merged. You wanted it all to stop, you wanted everything and everyone to just shut up. You wanted to go back to those few moments prior; where the three of you—Oikawa, your father, yourself—were all happily joking and pointing out different snacks.
Speaking of… with the arrival of the nurses, the snacks were cast aside without a single moment of hesitation, clattering to the floor and forgotten amidst the haste.
“I’m sorry but may I ask for you two to wait outside with the rest of Mr L/n’s visitors?” A nurse asked softly, guiding you and Oikawa towards the door with cautious, hovering hands.
“Y-yeah, sure thing,” Oikawa nodded, noting that amongst all the movement, you still held onto him, wide eyes flickering back and taking in the messy scene on display. “Strawberry? Hey, come on… we’d be better out here while they help him.”
“…Y/n..?” His fingers ghosted over your knuckles, cringing inwardly at the uncomfortably tight squeeze your hand had on his skin. Slowly, he pulled you out of the room, still caught within your daze. With one hand, he carefully lifted the straps of his mask over his ears, reaching over to assist you with your own. Your hands moved mindlessly, without direction; simply trailing up to meet his as they crept across your face, fixing the strange crinkles of the surgical mask.
“Y/n, hey… you can hear me, right?” He whispered, hands hesitantly finding solace against the bottom of your jaw, trying to bring your fixation back towards him. “He’ll be alright, I promise.”
You blinked once. Then twice. Then three times for good measure, gradually allowing yourself to adjust. He seemed unnerved—only slightly—when all you could offer him was a broken stare, eyelids twitching subtly as you fought the urge to blink once more. You knew that as soon as your eyes closed, no matter how long you chose to embrace the brief darkness that would follow, the second you opened them they would be lined with stinging tears. Overwhelming surges of emotion sent you into the boy’s open arms, fingers twisting and squeezing at the fabric of his shirt.
“H-he’s in so much p-pain, T-Toru…” you hiccuped, forehead pressed right into his chest. Oikawa’s hands hovered over the moving ridges of your shoulder blades before dropping down against your back, one quickly trailing up towards the back of your head. You continued to mumble and cry, a crackling voice shifting in tandem with the unsteady shaking of your body.
He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, ignoring the uncomfortable strain of his back and the slow-growing, damp patch against his chest.
“I know, I know…” He closed his own eyes, trying to blink away the few tears desperately clinging to his lashes. “God… I know, Y/n.” His gaze flickered away from the wall he stood by, soon finding the guilty honey-hued eyes watching your sobbing figure from afar. A hint of a smile, via trembling lips, danced upon your mother’s lips, grateful for his presence as he practically cradled you in his arms. In a brief matter of seconds, she lifted her mask from her chin and placed it back over her nose, entering the room with long strides.
Oikawa’s attention swiftly returned to you at the muffled gasps and intense shaking that overcame your body, vibrating through his limbs with a sympathetic ache. Despite the incessant longing to keep you wrapped in his arms, he gently pulled you out of his chest, looking down at your tear-stained face as he removed your mask. God, he hated seeing you in such a state; it was as if someone had just ripped his heart out. He fought every pull in his body, he fought the instinct to carefully cup your puffy cheeks within his soft palms.
Your weeping drew silent, though it was far from over; shoulders shifting abnormally, body still racked with unsteady shudders.
“Y/n,breathe, okay?” He whispered into the crown of your head. “I know it’s hard but I need you to focus on me, alright?”
“I-I can’t… h-he… he—“
“I know, strawberry,” he interrupted quietly, pulling his mask to his chin, hoping that the use of the cutesy nickname would ease your nerves. “But you need to be okay first… I’m right here, look at me, okay? Look at me and we’ll do this together.” You nodded shakily, following as he breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. Your hands—much smaller than his—draped weakly over his fingertips, struggling against the internal embarrassment dwelling in your system, demanding you avert your gaze. You hated the sense of fragility; the weakness that overcame you as his gaze settled and refused to move from your face.
“You’re doing so well, Y/n,” he hummed, smiling softly at you. “Don’t pay any mind to anything else, alright? Just me. Just us.”
“I’m s-sorry, I-I…”
“What the heck are you apologising for, huh?” He quirked a brow, allowing a hushed laugh to pass through his lips. When your panic seemed to calm, leaving ragged whimpers and sniffles in its wake, he frowned. “Y/n… don’t apologise… you haven’t done anything wrong.”
You didn’t respond with anything other than a quick step closer to his hunched figure, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his midsection. The floor seemed to sway beneath your feet, knees weak and wobbly urging a tighter grip on the boy you so pathetically clung to.
“Y/n…” he whispered, once again dropping his head to your shoulder, lips pulled taut as they sat against the thin fabric of your school shirt. Gradually, Oikawa backed up into the nearby wall, sliding down onto the floor with you snug in his embrace.
“I’ve got you.” His eyelids fell heavy, closing temporarily at the gradual relaxation of your limbs. One hand moved up to the back of your head, holding you even closer (if it were possible). “I’ve got you…”
extra sides;
everyone in the vbc (aside from iwaizumi) is under the impression that oikawa and y/n are on a date
when they were little, Kenji would take the trio to the convenience store every friday afternoon.
yes, he only ever eats crappy off brands
oikawa tends to make a lot of promises he can’t keep.
i am so sorry for the wait lmao <3
taglist —[]
taglist is closed! please do not ask to be added!
(i will be removing those that are unable to be tagged next chapter <3)
You nervously tapped your pencil eraser against the top of your desk, ignoring the growing pit in your stomach. Matsukawa was never late. Not without texting you, that is. In all of your two years of friendship, he had always made sure to message you and make you aware when he wouldn’t be in or on time. He knew you had anxiety, and thus made sure to do all he could to keep you comfortable.
It was hard to resist the urge to glance at your phone screen, but somehow you managed. You knew that if Issei texted you, the screen would light up and a small ping would resound from your device. The ringing of the next class bell startled you, so much so that you actually dropped your phone. Your heart pounded in your chest as you attempted to simultaneously calm down and pick up the electronic.
Before you could reach it, a pale hand shot out, gently lifting it from the floor and setting it onto the desk. You blinked in surprise, trying to figure out who had helped you without seeming like some creep. When you heard the slight laughter, you jumped, quickly straightening your posture.
Oikawa was standing in front of you, his umber eyes flitting around the room in confusion. You wondered why he had arrived at your classroom, before remembering the bell. Ah, that’s right, it’s lunch time. He must have come here to see Matsukawa so they could walk together to lunch. Expression twisting into one of anxiety, you looked at the phone now sitting on your desk, realizing the screen was slightly cracked. There were still no notifications.
“Y/N, do you have any idea where Matsukawa is?”
You weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to hold it together, and opted to turn and pretend to search through your bag after shaking your head in denial. Tooru frowned, scratching the back of his neck a few times.
“Do you?”
There was a slight crack in your voice, your throat constricting uncomfortably when you spoke.
“I might,” he muttered, looking off to the side in thought. You leapt up at this, grabbing the captain’s free hand and clasping it tightly.
“Is he alright? Did something happen?”
Oikawa’s heart sped up due to the proximity and the way your smaller hands squeezed around his. God, you were wonderful. But he couldn’t break the act just yet. Feigning deep thought, he took a few moments to answer, narrowing his eyes as the seconds passed.
“Well, last night he told me some things… I tried to check up on him but he wouldn’t answer any texts.”
One glance at your forlorn and let down expression was enough to make the setter aware of his victory.
“There’s a lot to explain, but I think I might know where he is. I’m going to be busy all day, so if you’d like, maybe wait for me and after practice I’ll walk you home and explain. Is that alright?”
Your nodding was so eager that Tooru couldn’t help the smile breaking onto his lips. It quickly fell when the reality of the situation weighed in on his mind; you were acting so eager to hear about a bastard who didn’t even deserve the time of day. Well, who hadn’t deserved the time of day. Luckily he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore. Your love made sure of it, of course.
The wait was tortuous. The entire day seemed to last for months, hours turning into days and minutes into hours. You had asked around, wondering if Issei had spoken to anyone besides Oikawa last night. The verdict was negative, even the Seijoh volleyball team didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t like him to miss practice, much less without a warning or explanation.
The pit in your stomach eagerly grew with each passing class. By the time school was over and you were left to wait for practice to end, it weighed heavier than any burden you had ever shouldered alone. There had never been a reason for you to make friends besides Issei and Kaori, but Kaori was busy with club activities so you were unable to vent to her. When you explained the situation she had completely understood, shooing you away with promises to make an excuse for you.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus on your homework. A voice in the back of your mind was screaming that something was so terribly wrong. Had he gotten hurt? Did the girl he walked with do something to him? Or did he just end up staying over at her house? You never did get her name, so for all you know she could also be absent. It wouldn’t be out of character for Matsukawa to skip a day to help someone he cared about.
On days when you had been sick and your parents had been too busy to take care of you, Issei had pretended to be under the weather so he could sneak over to your house and help nurse you back to health. But even then, he would explain the situation to his teammates, and they would all cover for him. So, if that was the case now, why hadn’t he said anything? Why did he only tell Oikawa?
It just didn’t seem to add up. Matsukawa was closer to a few other guys on the team than he was to Tooru, so why was he the only one who knew what was going on?
Shaking your head, you patted your cheeks a few times to calm yourself down. You couldn’t let your overthinking get the best of you. Oikawa would never lie to you like that. He was a playboy, sure, and liked to flirt with literally everyone, but that didn’t make him someone who would hurt your best friend. Here you were again, letting your thoughts get away from you and become overpowered by anxiety.
While you were stuck in your own mind, struggling with your intuition and logic, volleyball practice had promptly wrapped up. When the sound of shouted calls and balls hitting the court ceased, you looked up from the question you had been staring at and noticed that most of the guys had made their way to the locker room to grab their bags. You stood up, eagerly stuffing the papers you hadn’t made any progress on into your bag as you almost tripped over your feet running down the staircase from the stands.
Oikawa was waiting for you at the bottom, one hand on his hip and the other slinging his volleyball bag over his shoulder. He watched you almost stumble down the steps, letting out a soft chuckle whilst you scampered over to him. Soft puffs of breath left your mouth and adrenaline coursed through your veins. You were finally going to find out what happened to Issei!
“Follow me, cutie.”
The rest of the team had already left, and since you were the last out it was your job to turn the lights off. The gym slowly dimmed, row after row of lights shutting off. Tooru started with the bright LED fixtures closest to you, flicking the light switches one by one. Eventually, he stopped, leaving one light on. This action confused you, so you drew your eyes away from the ceiling to his face, bewilderment written all over your countenance.
Tooru was tempted to turn every light off. Would you cling to him in fear? Would you scream? Or would you find comfort in the pitch black, while he broke the news about your ‘friend’.
No, as much as he wanted to, Oikawa knew it would be much more enjoyable and satisfying to see your face. He wanted to watch your expression crumble while pretty tears of disbelief gathered in the corners of those beautiful eyes. The setter wanted to see how you shook and trembled.
He wanted to see every single side of you.
“Y/N, Matsukawa… he’s…”
God, he hated the way you perked up when he uttered that stupid name.
“He’s dead.”
Your features immediately fell, eyelids fluttering open and shut as you tried to comprehend the words that just left Tooru’s mouth. Your mind raced at the speed of light, questions tumbling out of your mouth with a broken and unsettled tone.
“What do you mean? How do you- how do you even know? Is this some prank? Where the hell is Isse-”
Just as his name was about to leave your mouth, Oikawa covered your lips with his palm. There was a smoldering hatred in his eyes, one of pure malice and discontent. The look alone sent shivers down your spine, leaving your knees trembling as tears began to blur your vision. What was happening? Why was he doing this? You tried to make space between you, but eventually ran out of room as your back hit the hard wall.
“I know because I killed him myself. And you know I’m not one to half-ass something like that, right princess?”
The word betrayal was an understatement to the immense pain you felt. The tears that had been gathering in your glossy eyes spilled over, slipping down your cheeks and onto Tooru’s hand. You looked so adorable like this, he thought, your protests muffled as you weakly tried to shove him away.
“It’s not my fault, you’re the one who liked him in the first place. If you didn’t fall in love with him, he would still be alive now.”
This was… your fault?
“You know, I’ve liked you for two years. Every time I saw your adorable face in the stands at our games, I pushed myself past my limits in the hopes that it was me you came to see. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you would show up in my little fanclub.”
The tremors shaking your body were so violent you were having trouble breathing. You were starting to hyperventilate. Desperately clawing at the hand covering your mouth, you tried your best to steady your hand enough to dig your nails in, but the attempt was to no avail.
“Imagine my pain when you told me you liked someone else. Let alone, someone so unworthy of your attention. That hurt like hell, doll.”
His tone was nothing but a growl as he pressed harder against your mouth, stifling your breath. The world around you began to fade to black, noir clouds creeping across your vision as your grip on his arms lessened. Eventually, you passed out, collapsing forward into Oikawa’s waiting arms.
“Hm, I guess you really are my kryptonite. Good thing I have you all to myself now, right?”
Summary:Falling in love with Oikawa Tooru was a mistake, doing it again was stubbornness.
Word count:1.2k
Warning:angst…that’s it. Slight timeskip spoilers that we all know.
A/N:Blame this on remembering old breakups…yeah, and Lorde. This has no sense more than the brakeup and the pain that it is forget someone, but I have the idea for more interactions and all, lmk if I should post the rest! Reposting bc I dont think ppl were seeing it:(
To Oikawa, his all time priority had always been volleyball.
For years, he let what started as a simple hobby become his whole life, and rightfully so, he hadn’t found anything else or anyone else to make him as happy as volleyball did. Nothing and no one, until you came along.
