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"Oh, it's you! The scaredy pinch server!"
The words don't hurt you, not after so many years. You can't remember the last time you fumbled a serve so badly that it shook you. But the voice is familiar enough to send a wary shiver down your spine. Even with the added muscle mass gained with two more years of high school volleyball, at your core you'll always be that nervous kid that fumbled a jump float serve in your first official match of high school.
So you turn, trying your best to make the motion casual despite the way your heart lurches in your chest. Of course, the face that comes into view is exactly the one you had expected.
"Oikawa-san."
You receive the flash of a white-toothed smile in response to your recognition of him. "Oh, so it is you. I actually wasn't sure." He hums thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. "It's been, what, nearly two years since you used that wonderful jump-float serve of yours against us at the Spring High representative playoffs?"
His voice is teasing, but you can sense the disgruntled respect underneath. Thankfully, the two of you are nearly of a height now, so you don't feel quite so small in his presence as you once might have.
"That's right."
"Who's this, Oikawa?" A smooth voice interjects. "A little young to be a friend of yours, don't you think?" The unfamiliar face you see over Oikawa's shoulder is just as serpentine as his tone suggests.
"Ah, Sugu-chan!" Oikawa smiles back at him briefly. "This is..."
Of course he wouldn't remember your name. It seemed like barely anyone had known who you were back then - the only first year not to play as as a regular. Next to Hinata, Kageyama and Tsukki though, even you can understand why you were so forgettable at the time.
Now though - things are different.
"Tadashi Yamaguchi," you say with a slight bow. The stranger bows back deeply, but something about the way he does it causes a slight crease between your eyebrows. The motion is laced with sincerity, and yet not.
"Suguru Daishou." He gives you a tight-lipped smile below narrowed eyes. He's slightly smaller than both you and Oikawa, but you would never have known with the way he holds himself.
Daishou pats Oikawa on the back, shifting past him in a smooth motion. "Remember we have morning practice in a few minutes! Don't go slacking off now."
Oikawa smiles back at him in a way that's far too prickly around the edges. "Don't be ridiculous, Sugu-chan! When have I ever slacked off?" His voice is flecked with unspoken implications, and you don't doubt for a second that Oikawa has never slacked off volleyball for a day in his life.
The other boy waves back over his shoulder but doesn't slow. Oikawa doesn't seem at all bothered by his abrupt departure, and turns back to you with a cheery smile.
"So, Yama-chan, what brings you all the way to Tsukuba?" He raises an eyebrow, as though the answer wasn't obvious when you are staring at the campus map.
He doesn't talk with as much bite towards you as you've seen him be with Kageyama, and you're thankful for that. "I'm here for the open day. Physics - Astronomy, specifically."
If you had known how much Oikawa's eyes would have widened with those simple words, you would have mentioned your interest earlier. "You like space, Yama-chan?" He seems to almost buzz around the edges, a genuine smile twitching at his lips.
"Um, yes?" You mumble intelligently.
The smile widens into a full-blown grin, and you almost flinch back from the eagerness in his eyes. You do try to pull your hand back when he grabs for it, but Oikawa is too fast.
A pen seems to almost magically appear in his hands, and he's scrawling out a series of digits across the back of your hand even as he talks. "Send me a text when you're free later today." He has the most friendly tone you've ever heard him speak with, and squeezes your hand before releasing it. Your heart makes a stuttered attempt to mimic the sensation.
Oikawa points to a building not all that far from you. "The Physics Department is in there." (You don't bother asking how he knows that.) "I have practice now and classes in the afternoon, but I'll set aside some time to show you the sports hall before you leave." He grins. "I take it you're interested in the volleyball team as well?"
"Right?" You answer dazedly, because there's only one appropriate answer to such a question.
He pats you on the shoulder, and you notice how Oikawa frowns ever so slightly and his hand lingers a little too long. He blatantly gives you a complete once-over before backing away with a friendly wave. You can't help but flush.
"See you later, Yama-chan!" He's almost too far away for you to hear when he calls back, "And nice hair by the way!"
Several people turn to stare at his words. Self-consciously, you tug at the small ponytail you've been wearing your hair with for more than a year now.
What just happened?
Meeting up with Oikawa again turns out to be a lot simpler than you’d first expected. You text him almost as soon as the tour of the Physics Department is finished, and receive an almost immediate response filled with far too many emojis.
It almost makes you cringe, when you’re used to texting Tsukki - whose messages are as straightforward as his speech. But Hinata is prone to the same, and having him as a vice captain means that the two of you are almost constantly in contact.
Captain of the team. You.
It almost doesn’t feel real.
Oikawa tells you to meet him outside of one of the smaller buildings, in the Physical Education area of the campus. He didn’t mention what he’s studying, but you suppose it probably involves a sports scholarship. It makes sense - Oikawa was - is - a fantastic volleyball player, and Tsukuba is known for its sports programs.
That had caught your interest as well, of course.
You have to ask for directions a couple of times, but no one seems to mind. There are plenty of other high school students visiting the campus today, and you eventually make it to the correct building in one piece.
Oikawa is loitering outside, of course. You don’t even need to see his face to know it’s him. He stands the same way he did in high school - a hand on his hip and an easy air of self-assurance that seems to brush off what the rest of the world thinks of him. A gentle breeze moves his hair across his nose, and there’s something about the way he pushes it back from his face that makes him seem just as at ease as he did as a teenager. Maybe it’s the broad set of his shoulders, or the way his clothing sits across them. Or maybe it’s the extra years between you.
Oikawa is the embodiment of confidence.
That doesn’t make you any less unnerved by the thought of approaching him so casually.
Before you can so much as raise a hand in greeting, Oikawa looks up from his phone and his gaze narrows in on your approaching figure. A bright smile overtakes his face and he waves enthusiastically in your direction.
“Yama-chan!” Now that you’re expecting it, you barely conceal at a wince at the way he chooses to address you. But even you can’t repress the blush that tries its best to spread across your freckled cheeks. “What took you so long? I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me.”
He has an easy grin on his face as he approaches, but his words make a slight wrinkle appear between your eyebrows. Had you not just sent him a message indicating that you were on your way?
Before you can even begin to follow that train of thought though, Oikawa has slung a companionable arm over your shoulders. He easily guides you round towards one of the larger sports halls, evidently unaware of how his casual touch makes your skin prickle and your heart jump in your chest.
“This way, Yama-chan! You want to see the volleyball court, right?” He doesn’t lean any further into your space as you walk, but you’re aware that the tips of your ears are starting to redden. From the way Oikawa’s gaze flickers to them and his smile sharpens, you know he is too.
“Y-yes.” Damn it.
Those two, extra, buffering years of high school fall away in an instant, and you begin to feel like you’re fifteen all over again.
You breathe, using those careful moments of inhale and exhale to settle out the tensing of your stomach. This is nothing like those first few serves you had to do during official matches. There’s no reason to feel flustered.
Oikawa rambles on about everything and nothing as he leads you further into the campus. He doesn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that the two of you have never had a direct conversation before today, and is content to lay out the details of his entire day for you. You nod at appropriate times until the conversation loops back to volleyball, and then your curiosity starts to creep in.
“Morning practice was the same as usual of course - Suga-chan complained about my setting, but he wouldn’t know a good toss if I aimed one at his face - and the new libero is still struggling to receive any of my serves.” He sighs like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Why, you have no idea, because surely Oikawa’s powerful serve would be difficult for even the most experienced liberos to handle?
You hum thoughtfully, and Oikawa side-eyes you. “You can’t really blame them though - in our last match against one another, your jump serves were like a cannon shot.” For some reason, the memory makes you smile - even though it probably shouldn’t.
Oikawa is silent for a few moments, and when you turn to face him, he’s still eyeing you intently. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he seems to snap out of whatever reverie he’d been in. He smiles, and it’s rather pointed, but his eyes are soft.
“I seem to recall your jump float serves earning five consecutive points against us during the very same match.” He gauges your reaction carefully, and pauses before he continues. “That was some frustratingly accurate aiming from a first year.”
One of his eyebrows quirks up and his mouth twists to one side as he considers. “I guess if we’re making weapons analogies, it was like a spear. Simple, but sharp and pointed. Effective.”
Such a comment would be flippant - if it came from anyone other than Oikawa. But you know as much as he does the sheer number of hours required to hone a serve enough to be able to use it in actual matches. You’d spent most of your first year doing nothing but practising the jump float serve with Shimada-san after school, never really believing that it would actually work for you. And then it did.
For Oikawa - someone whose terrifying serve every volleyball team in the prefecture had been wary of - to compliment you, means a lot. Your breath briefly catches in your throat.
Kageyama has also complimented you on your serves, so it’s not like you haven’t heard similar comments before. Well, Kageyama isn’t vocal with his compliments - it’s more that you see the sparkling approval in his eyes. But the fact remains that he is Oikawa’s protege (even if you know for a fact that Oikawa would never willingly admit to such a thing) and his approval is essentially the same as Oikawa’s - especially considering how far he’s come since your first year of high school.
Or, so you’d thought.
Compliments from the real Oikawa are a lot more potent, and throw you off-balance enough that it takes you several moments to come up with a suitable reply.
“Well, the fifth one was a fluke,” you scratch at the back of your neck, “If the others hadn’t supported me -”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Yama-chan.” Oikawa’s voice is hard, like barely warmed-through steel. His arm briefly tightens across your shoulders. “I was there too, and I bet you’ve improved even more since then. I’d love to see.”
He flashes you an easygoing grin just as you reach the main door to what is obviously the volleyball gymnasium.
“Shall we?”
Oikawa’s serves are even more terrifying than you remember. You suppose that’s to be expected after an extra three years of practice.
He follows the same pre-serve ritual he did in high school - bouncing the ball briefly and twirling it in his hands before serving. It surprises you that you remember such an odd detail, and you wonder if you have your own pre-serve quirk. With the number of times you’ve had to centre yourself during a match - probably.
You fall into the familiar calm that often overtakes you during a match as the muscles of Oikawa’s long legs stretch and bunch together as he leaps into the air. You can still recall just how powerful and accurate Oikawa’s serve had been during high school, and tense your legs in preparation of a tentative receive.
It doesn’t, however, prepare you for the feeling of a volleyball whistling past your ear - far, far too close for comfort. Oikawa doesn’t even seem fazed by how close it had been to hitting your face. If anything, he looks delighted.
“What do you think, Yama-chan? Have I improved?” His grin looks nearly ready to split his face in half, so you’re not sure why he needs the approval, but you oblige.
“Definitely.” It comes out as more of a breathless exclamation of wonderment than you’d intended, but it has the desired effect. Oikawa’s haughty look crumbles into something a little more sheepish, and you’re not sure whether you imagine the colour that appears on his cheeks. He turns away before you catch more than a brief glimpse of his expression.
“Your turn!” He calls cheerfully over his shoulder, and makes his way to the centre of his side of the court.
As you walk over to pick up the volleyball from where it had drifted to - not that it hadn’t ended up at the other end of the room anyway, with the sheer strength of Oikawa’s serve - you consider how neither of you are even in proper practice gear either. Your jeans restrict the movement of your legs as much as your hoodie does your arms. The fact that Oikawa had been able to aim so accurately despite the freedom of movement he was used to was impressive in and of itself.
When you reach the back of the court again, you pause for a moment and settle the ball at your feet so that you can pull back some of the hair that has escaped your small ponytail. At the other side of the court, Oikawa has his arms folded and stares at you intently. He doesn’t make any comment, but you see his eyes narrow with interest.
After picking up the ball again, you straighten. “Ready?” Oikawa nods, opening his stance to receive, and the entire situation seems far too surreal.
Breathing in and out once to steady yourself, you throw the ball into the air and take a three-step approach to hit it. You focus on the way it moves, rotating your shoulder so that your palm makes contact with the back of it, just below the centre. Your wrist stays rigid, keeping your fingers away from the ball despite how you flow through with the movement of the swing.
You’ve done it so often now, each consideration and adjustment you make is like instinct.
The ball takes the exact smooth arc you’d expected it to, curving to an abrupt stop after barely brushing the top of the net. It thunks satisfyingly against the ground of the court, and you can’t help but grin fiercely at the surprised look on Oikawa’s face.
Here, on the court, you’re both equals. Or at least, as equal as you could ever hope to be to someone like Oikawa.
Oikawa stares at your with wide eyes, but reciprocates your smile with a flash of white teeth. He looks like he wants to say something, but as soon as he opens his mouth, another voice cuts across the court.
“What an impressive serve!” The same guy from earlier - Daishou, was it? - straightens from where he’d been leaning against the wall nearest the entrance to the court. “It’s easy to see why our dear Oikawa-chan has such an interest in you.”
Quicker than you would have thought possible, Oikawa has picked up the ball and ducked under to your side of the net. You catch how his nose twitches with distaste before he turns and fixes his expression into the same, barbed smile as this morning.
“Sugu-chan! Aren’t you supposed to be studying for your test tomorrow?” Oikawa chirps cheerfully, but you notice that he subtly places himself between yourself and Daishou as he approaches.
“You know as well as I do that I spent the entirety of last night looking through textbooks, so I actually have time to spare this afternoon.” There’s almost no inflection in the other boy’s words, but even you can hear the obvious implication in his voice. Daishou stops just close enough to be considered a polite distance, and holds himself confidently.
Oikawa, on the other hand, drops all semblance of politeness despite keeping his smile firmly glued in place. “Oh, Sugu-chan, if I spiked like you did I would never think that I had time to spare.” He laughs airily. “What different philosophies we have!”
Daishou’s eyes harden and his upper lip twitches. “I suppose that’s what made you sneak into the gymnasium out of hours again. Too much extra practise is bad for your health. What would the coach say if he found out?” It sounds like Oikawa finally managed to ruffle his feathers. Or scales. Daishou reminds you far too distinctly of a snake for you to make any other animal comparison.
“Please, don’t be so crass, Sugu-chan! The coach approves of everything I do for the benefit of the team.” The ‘myteam’ somehow manages to come across in his inflection. Oikawa grins triumphantly down at Daishou before reaching up to ruffle your hair. “Yama-chan here would be a welcome asset to our side of the court, don’t you think?”
The gesture reminds you so much of your former senpai from Karasuno that it causes your heart to thump erratically in your chest. Oikawa’s hand lingers for far longer than any of theirs ever did though. His palm brushes across your scalp before settling against the back of your neck. Oikawa’s fingers absentmindedly play with the soft strands of hair that hang there, and you have to fight back an embarrassed flush that threatens to overtake your face. Especially when Daishou’s focus settles on you instead.
“With a serve like that, I see no reason to think otherwise.” The other boy leers at you, narrowed eyes flashing. “Maybe you’ll finally knock Oikawa-chan off his high horse, hmm?”
Oikawa’s touch freezes for a split second at the back of your neck, the muscles of his hand tensing and untensing so quickly you’re almost sure you imagined it. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Daishou smiles like a hungry predator that finally caught its prey, but Oikawa ignores him.
“What time do you have to leave at, Yama-chan?” Oikawa asks the question casually, but there’s a hungry curiosity in his gaze as his fingers dance across your spine.
Your hand shifts to you pocket to check your phone, before you remember that you’d put it in your bag to prevent accidental damage whilst on the court. It wasn’t that late in the afternoon though, was it?
Oikawa continues to stare, and you shift awkwardly in place. You consider your words carefully before speaking. “I still have a few hours, I think.”
Oikawa’s beaming smile returns tenfold, and, from such close proximity, it’s a little overwhelming to have it directed at you exclusively. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face before. Even the amazed expression he’d had upon seeing Hinata’s true spiking ability for the first time doesn’t come close. The look on his face is softer, and yet so much more sincere.
“Excellent! We still have time then.”
You’re so busy asking yourself, time for what? that you almost miss how Oikawa smoothly tosses the volleyball to Daishou before linking his hand with yours. He pulls you past the other boy, towards your bags. Oikawa’s grip is warm and firm, and you derive a strange sense of comfort from the rough feeling of his palm against yours - just as calloused as you’d expect the hands one of the top setters in the prefecture to feel.
It’s when Oikawa holds your bag in front of your face that you realise you’ve been blankly staring at your interlocked hands for far too long. Your cheeks begin to warm.
“Uh, thank you.” For some reason, it doesn’t feel appropriate to unlink yourself from Oikawa just yet, so you end up awkwardly swinging your bag onto your other shoulder. Even with Daishou eyeing you both perplexedly, there’s something all too reassuring about having someone like Oikawa by your side. A physical reminder of that is even better.
As though he can read your thoughts, Oikawa puffs himself up ever so slightly, straightening his back as he pulls his own bag onto his shoulder. He squeezes your hand, and a few stray butterflies try to batter their way out of your stomach.
Despite how dry your mouth has gone, you work the words around it. “Enough time for what?”
Oikawa’s pleased look intensifies, and you almost hear how Daishou rolls his eyes behind you both as he mutters, “Oh, here we go.”
Tsukuba isn’t just home to its university, of course. There’s also Tsukuba Space Center, one of the attractions of Tsukuba Science City that you’d been the most excited about visiting someday. From the way Oikawa’s face had lit up when you’d told him that, he obviously likes it too.
It isn’t all that surprising, really, that Oikawa wants to show you there. The brown haired boy had been intrigued from the moment you’d mentioned Astronomy, so of course he would know about Tsukuba Space Center. (He certainly knew where the Physics Department was.) And, by extension, of coursehe would know the fastest bus route there.
It’s a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before. The way his smile threatens to almost break his face with its intensity as you step off the bus - still holding his hand, though at this point you’re not entirely sure why - and he stares up at the building with wonder. When he turns to you with the same expression, it almost makes you dizzy.
“Are we taking the guided tour?” It’s free for high school students - you know that much.
Oikawa laughs, an incredibly lighthearted sound that is nothing like the way he’d laughed on the court several years ago. “Oh, Yama-chan, so naive.” He smiles at you through lidded eyes. “You don’t need a tour guide - you have me.”
And, apparently, he’s right.
Oikawa drags you through exhibit after exhibit, reciting details about them so fluently you begin to get a sneaking suspicion of just how many times he’s visited here before. (Judging by Daishou’s face when you’d left him - too often.) He seems particularly fascinated by the rocket square, coming out with enough anecdotes about space travel and alien encounter articles he’s read that you realise this is no idle interest.
“Oikawa-san,” you somehow find the time to ask him between one rocket and another, “Why did you not study Astronomy?” He obviously has a passion for it.
Oikawa pauses in place and turns, before blinking several times at the question. You have no idea why - surely it’s one he’s heard before? Then he smiles, but it’s tinged with bitterness around the edges. “You can only have one love in your life, Yama-chan. I chose mine.” Volleyball.
He releases your hand then - not deliberately, you’re sure - but maybe unconsciously he wants to put some distance between the two of you. Immediately, you begin to miss the warmth of his skin against yours. It almost draws a startled giggle out of you, because, only moments earlier, you’d been so incredibly embarrassed by the stares others had given your linked hands whilst you walked around the Space Center. A few times, you’d even tried to tug your hand free experimentally, only to have Oikawa hold tight.
Now, though, you want it back.
Such a downcast figure of Oikawa - even if he does his best not to show it outwardly - doesn’t fit in with the image you have of him in your head. Oikawa is confidence personified. It shocks you to realise that he would ever think he couldn’t have anything and everything he wanted. This new information jars against the other pieces of the puzzle that make up the boy standing in front of you. It makes your stomach uneasy.
Tentatively - in the same way that you would approach a startled first year - you move next to him and put a hand on his back. Oikawa glances at you curiously. You avoid his eyes, taking a breath before you start to rattle off what you’d heard about the new X-ray astronomy satellite launched a few months ago. You’re sure he already knows about it, but he lets you take the lead in the conversation this time, only chipping in with the most minor details. (“They renamed it, you know.”)
You keep your hand in place until the two of you reach the space dome, before letting it lower back to your side. Oikawa falls behind you a step, and then reaches out for your wrist.
“Yama-chan.” You glance over your shoulder at him, and his lips are pursed together. He looks away from your questioning gaze. Oikawa’s mouth opens and shuts wordlessly before he finally meets your eyes again and continues. “You should stay. Tonight, I mean.”
You blink. “W-what?”
You should have seen this coming, a small part of yourself snickers at the other, and you can’t help but agree.
His words are careful, like he’s wary of scaring off a startled deer caught in headlights. “There’s something I’d like to show you.” Oikawa’s eyes - the headlights - are so sincere they send a shiver down your spine. Your curiosity starts to get the better of you, but you fight it back down.
“Oikawa-san, I can’t -” as much as you’d like to, which comes as a surprise to you, “- I’ve already bought my train ticket.”
He waves your concern away with his free hand. The other tightens its grip around your wrist. It burns where he touches your skin. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
Even so. “I have class tomorrow -”
“Skip it.”
You close your mouth and raise an eyebrow at Oikawa’s serious expression. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as you speak, slowly and deliberately. “I have volleyball practice in the morning. I can’t skip it, Oikawa-san - I’m the captain.”
Oikawa quirks his head at you, like a dog that’s just found a new toy, and you realise you’d never mentioned that particular fact to him before. His eyes sharpen with interest as a small smile begins to play around the edges of his mouth. “I’m sure you could skip it this once. Who’s your vice captain?”
“Hinata.” The redhead is just as excitable as he was as a first year, but he’s a good vice captain. Hinata knows exactly what to say to make the younger members of the club feel better whenever they get nervous - having dealt with it so many times himself - and his skills on the court mean that he already has their respect. He sometimes comes across as flippant to those that don’t know him well enough, but his dedication to the sport makes him reliable. Especially with Tsukki and Kageyama backing him up.
Oikawa seems to think the same. “Skip it. The little shorty can handle it.”
He stares at you so intently. It’s the same, focused look he has before a serve. In another context, it would be like he was assessing the weak points of your team’s defence. It stills feels like he is, in a way.
Where is this coming from? You and Oikawa aren’t friends, you don’t know anything about one another other than through volleyball - and, now, apparently, your shared interest in all the things beyond the skies above your heads too - so it doesn’t make sense for him to crave your company so badly.
You’re not a person that stands out, you never have been. Even as the team captain, you shine briefly when you are on the court, and then fade back into the background like a star blinking out of existence.
It’s a habit you’ve picked up from Tsukki - and not through conscious choice, either.
People respectyou, and your younger team members look up to you, but you’ve never been the most memorable kind of person. When you’re not surrounded by the other members of your team, you’re nothing but one star in a constellation - you don’t shine half as brightly on your own.
But Oikawa doesn’t seem to care.
In that split second - although it feels like several heartbeats - you make your decision.
“OK,” you breathe out, and begin fumbling for your phone. Oikawa visibly perks up, and finally lets go of your wrist. “I’ll need to make arrangements though. And I don’t have a toothbrush. Or any spare clothes.”
He waves away your concerns. “We’ll sort something out, don’t worry, Yama-chan.” He practically purrs your name at the last part. Your phone nearly slips from your grip with the embarrassing reminder that you’ve just agreed to stay the night with someone you barely know.
Oikawa doesn’t seem to have any of the same concerns. He moves into the space dome, all pleased strides and confidence, throwing you a wink over his shoulder. You immediately look away and blush into your hands. Why am I even doing this?
First thing you do is text your mum. You make up something about running into an old friend from Karasuno, and pray she won’t mind. It’s not that far from the truth anyway.
Next, you message Hinata to let him know you won’t be in tomorrow. His reply is immediate, and guilt begins to gnaw at your stomach.
What? Why???? :(((((
Something important came up, so I’m staying the night in Tsukuba. Can you take over practice tomorrow?
Ofc! :D :D :D You can rely on me, CAPTAIN!
Your flush spreads up to your ears. Yeah, what a reliable captain you are, skipping practice to hang out with an old rival of your team. You wonder what Kageyama would say if he knew. Or Tsukki, for that matter.
Your stomach flips excitedly as it hits you that you don’t care.
Walking into Oikawa’s apartment with him reveals a face you’re becoming far too familiar with.
Daishou looks up from the couch and raises an eyebrow. He seems unimpressed by your sudden arrival, even though the bus journey back - with delays to pick up food and an extra toothbrush - felt far too fast.
“Hi,” you offer tentatively as Oikawa shuts the door behind you. He puts a hand on your shoulder and Daishou’s other eyebrow raises as well.
“Daishou,” Oikawa begins sweetly, voice dripping like honey, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the flat tonight.”
Your head whips back to stare at the other boy, but Oikawa’s expression doesn’t change. His hand briefly squeezes your shoulder, but he remains focused on Daishou. It settles the uncomfortable sensation that was beginning to swirl around in your stomach.
When you turn back around, Daishou is slowly setting down the papers he’d been reading. His eyes narrow and then flicker between your face and Oikawa’s. He smiles at you - bringing back the uncomfortable bubbling of your stomach - before his focus finally settles on Oikawa.
“I was going to ask, but I don’t think I want to know.” Daishou stands up from the couch, stretching his arms far above his head. “You’re lucky there’s no practice tomorrow morning - otherwise, I’d never agree.” He heads towards another room as you glance back at Oikawa again, heart stuttering in your chest.
The other boy doesn’t offer any sort of explanation. He simply stares back at you impassively, almost daring you to ask. You don’t quite have the nerve.
“Oikawa -” what are we doing? “- where’s the bathroom?”
Oikawa blinks a couple of times. His mouth curls into a smile as he nods towards one of the three doors in the room. “That one.”
You dart away from his grasp almost frantically, but Oikawa doesn’t try to hold you back in the slightest. You dump your bag next to the couch on your way there, shutting the bathroom door firmly behind yourself so that you can lean against it for a few seconds.
When you come back out, Oikawa has shifted to the kitchen side of the living space. (The apartment seems to be somewhat like a studio, with a couple of extra rooms for sleeping in.) He’s unpacking the food you’d picked out onto the table. It’s a more domestic scenario than you would ever have thought you’d see him in.
Daishou is on his way out of the door, but you catch the look he gives Oikawa - you owe me one - before he notices your return and schools his face into a much less sincere expression.
“It was nice to meet you, Yama-chan!” The nickname doesn’t have quite the same ring when he says it. You wonder if it’s going to stick. He side-eyes Oikawa one more time before he closes the door. “Have fun!”
Once Daishou has left, Oikawa’s face scrunches into a disgusted expression Tsukki would have been proud of. “Sorry about that.” He sets the remainder of the food onto the table before tossing the paper bag into the bin. Oikawa moves to brush by you, and you hesitantly take a step towards the couch. The brown haired boy raises an eyebrow at your sheepishness.
“Have a seat - I just need to get something from my room.”
You sit down and take the opportunity of Oikawa’s brief absence to quickly check your phone. You mum has replied, and thankfully doesn’t ask much more than that you let her know when you’re on your way back tomorrow.
When Oikawa returns, it’s with a black, spherical object in his hands. It takes you a few seconds of furrowed eyebrows, but your eyes light up and you can’t hold back the pleased gasp that leaves your mouth as a sudden understanding fills you. Oikawa glances up from fiddling with the object at the noise. He recognises the appreciation in your face and grins.
“Iwa-chan and a few others from Seijou bought this for me at the end of high school.” Oikawa talks as he sets it down in front of you, stretching out the cable to plug it into the wall. “I think they all realised that I wouldn’t be able to cope with not being able to see the stars properly in a city.”
Oikawa straightens and flicks off the lights. But before your eyes can adjust to the darkness, a new kind of light blossoms. Space, in all its wonderous stars and constellations, immediately floods from the star projector and across the walls. You’re suddenly envious of Oikawa’s friends for buying him such an amazing gift.
“Oikawa-san, this is incredible.” You can’t hold back the wonder in your voice as your eyes roam over the walls.
Oikawa settles next to you on the couch and brushes back his hair from his face. “It’s nothing compared to the real thing, of course.” He sounds pleased nonetheless.
You both sit in silence for a while, admiring the gentle shifting of the stars. You look out for any you might recognise. The surrealness of the situation - stargazing with Oikawa inside his apartment - tickles at the edges of your awareness, but doesn’t quite take root.
After an indiscernible length of time, Oikawa moves again, picking up one of the extra discs that you hadn’t noticed earlier. “There are others too. This one is my favourite.”
The room blinks into darkness for a split second before a different set of stars return. This time round, the walls are decorated with constellations. These ones you do recognise, and you end up silently mouthing their names as you spot each one.
When Oikawa settles back this time, he’s a lot closer. One of his legs presses against yours as he curls it underneath himself. You’re suddenly anchored back in reality by the touch, casual as it is.
He locks eyes with you, and then slowly - but without the slightest bit of hesitation - reaches out towards you. Your breath falters as his thumb swipes across your cheek, but you make no move to pull back, even as colour begins to flood your face.
“Has anyone ever told you that your freckles look like constellations, Yama-chan?” Oikawa sounds far too calm as he gently runs his fingers across other parts of your face. Along the side of your jaw. The bridge of your nose. Above an eyebrow. His touch makes you shiver.
“Y-yes.” Have they though? You’re pretty sure no one has ever looked at you the way you see yourself reflected in Oikawa’s eyes.
“Well, they’re right.” Oikawa smiles softly, hand settling just below your chin. Your skin tingles where he’s touched it. “You have stars across your skin. Very fitting.” His thumb gently brushes over your lips, and then he pulls back, and you’re left feeling as empty as the chasm of space surrounding you.
He settles back more comfortably into the couch, and, after a while, you find yourself relaxing too - despite the crashing of waves inside your head.
Oikawa hands you a pair of pyjamas several hours and empty plates of food later. (Grumbling stomachs had reminded you both of the spread of dishes after the initial dazzlingness of the projector had worn off.) It’s a little embarrassing to have to wear someone else’s clothes, but the distinctive alien pattern across them and the way Oikawa’s face reddens at your knowing grin makes them a lot easier to accept.
“Very nice.” Your grin widens as Oikawa’s face twitches.
You’d been half-expecting him to break out into a flustered, they were a gift, Yama-chan, a gift!but the older boy doesn’t even try to deny it. He bought them for himself, and you bought know it.
Oikawa finds his composure again rapidly. “I think so too.” He makes sure to catch your eye as he continues, “They’re my favourites.”
Now in Oikawa’s bedroom, you strip off your clothes and step into the pyjama bottoms without much preamble - shared locker rooms will do that to you - but pause, just after pulling your hair free from its ponytail.
Oikawa is frozen in place, and stares at you with wide eyes.
You push your hair out of your face and glance down at yourself - convinced there must be something on your chest that you hadn’t noticed - but your self-inspection comes away clear. The only things you can see are the familiar splattering of freckles that have always covered your skin. But Oikawa continues to stare, his eyes dancing left and right to take in the entire expanse of your bared skin. You start to realise why, and feel the back of your neck heat up in response.
Thankfully, Oikawa seems to shake himself out of it. He turns his back to you and finally starts changing out of his own clothes. You’re pretty sure he mutters to himself about your freckles, but it’s not quite loud enough for your ears to catch. Still, you blush scarlet and pull your borrowed shirt over your head.
Whilst Oikawa is still fighting with his, you realise a fatal flaw in the layout of the room.
“Uh, Oikawa-san - there’s only one bed in here.”
The other boy glances over his shoulder at you, before tugging down the rest of his shirt. You remember almost too late to admire the sculpted planes of his back, but still catch sight of the well-defined muscles there.
“Oh, don’t worry, Yama-chan.” Oikawa turns and waves away your worries. His t-shirt has a colourful, spaceship design on it. It somehow manages to contrast with Oikawa’s intimidating personality, and yet seems all too fitting in the same way. It suits him.
“You can sleep here - I’ll sleep in the living room.” The words tumble out of his mouth easily, and you feel a small breath of relief escape you. Even after the odd path the entire day had taken, that hadn’t been a step you’d been willing to take.
Oikawa moves to leave the room as straightforwardly as that, patting your shoulder on the way by.
You stiffen, the sudden, reeling sensation that you’re about to let a significant moment in your life wash by you hitting you at full force. He’s almost at the door when your tight throat finally allows words to escape. “Oikawa-san!”
He glances back at you, one hand on the door. His expression is unreadable but titters on the edge of what might be curiosity.
It’s a struggle for you to ask, because - now that you’re a third year - there are no more older senpai to turn to with your concerns. You’ve gotten so used to bottling it all up. Tsukki and the others are supportive, but they don’t understand. They never have.
“Oikawa-san,” you try again, “What… what do you think makes someone a good captain?”
Oikawa’s hand falls away from the door. The more time you’d spent with him today, the more you’ve realised that Oikawa is not quite as obvious a person as you’d first thought. He wears his expressions like costumes - throwing one disguise away for another whilst he masks the person underneath. A few times though, you feel like you’ve seen the real Oikawa.
You think he might be standing in front of you now.
Oikawa sighs, scratching the back of his neck as his face twists and settles into an uncomfortable expression. “I don’t think I’m really the right person to ask.” He smiles apologetically.
You sit down on his bed. You hadn’t expected that response. Some part of you had liked to think that Oikawa - feared captain of Aoba Jousai - would have had all the answers. That a few simple words from him would have washed away all of your insecurities about the coming year.
“I’m… still not sure I’m the right choice for captain.” You swallow after speaking, like you can somehow take back the words. Tsukki, Hinata and Kageyama had all unanimously voted for you. Denying their faith in you feels like a betrayal.
Oikawa laughs, and the sound startles your gaze back from where it had drifted to your feet. Before you can begin to be offended though, he speaks.
“Well, it’s too late for that, Yama-chan!” Oikawa smiles cheerily at you, but his words are hard and realistic. You know he’s right, and feel yourself internally wither under the weight of that responsibility. Your eyes fall to the floor again.
Oikawa shifts back into the room again, and sits down next to you on the edge of his bed. He settles one of his hands on your back, and the gesture is entirely different to the other touches from throughout the day. It’s not possessive, or protective - or flirtatious at all - but it is strengthening. It’s the reassuring touch of a senpai to a younger student - one that they know will soon have to stand on their own two feet.
You wonder if Oikawa was ever like this with Kageyama, or if this is another hidden facet of his personality that too few others have seen.
“Tadashi-chan.” It’s that simple use of your first name that gives you the strength to meet his gaze. Oikawa meets your eyes evenly, and holds them. “It might not seem like it, but everyone has their own insecurities. They key is to not let them overwhelm you. Don’t let yourself be limited by the things you’re afraid to do.”
This morning, you would never have believed that someone like Oikawa could ever have faced such a thing as insecurity, but now you find yourself trusting the words that come from his mouth. He’s speaking from experience. The weight begins to lift from your chest.
Oikawa continues to meet your stare. “It might seem like a heavy responsibility, but your team would never have put you in such a position if they thought you weren’t capable.” He gifts you with a small smile and pats your back, before finally breaking eye contact as his expression turns considering.
“Not that I’ve ever felt hesitant about becoming team captain.” His grin turns menacing, but not towards you. “I’ve always known that I could bring out the best in people.”
“I believe that.” You smile back.
Oikawa’s smile turns playful, and his hand shifts to jostle at your hair affectionately. Like before, it lingers just a little too long against your scalp. “Now, get some sleep, Yama-chan. I’ll send you off on an early train tomorrow.”
The following morning doesn’t feel real.
The remainder of your time at Oikawa’s apartment passes quickly. You wake up - a little stiff from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed - only to find that you’d somehow ended up spooning one of Oikawa’s pillows during the night. That wouldn’t have been too embarrassing, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’d also drooled all over it.
And, well, Oikawa is standing over you.
You blink up at him sleepily. It takes a few moments for your situation to sink in again, and then you’re blushing furiously and hastily wiping your face clean.
Oikawa grins down at you, both hands on his hips as his eyes twinkle with amusement. Despite the early hour, he’s already fully dressed. It makes you wonder just how long he’s been standing in the room for, and your face heats up even further.
You sit up and push back the covers of Oikawa’s bed, using the shift in position to avoid his eyes. The result is that you end up staring at his bed covers instead. Surprisingly, they’re rather plain and lack any sort of cosmic pattern on them. Just as you’re about to voice this thought, you catch sight of Oikawa’s expression out of the corner of your eye.
The older boy has glanced down at your stomach, and you realise that your shirt has ridden up during the night. A patch of freckled skin peeks through the gap between the material of your pyjamas. And Oikawa is staring at it.
Embarrassment colours your cheeks, because, honestly, it’s too early for this.
As though he can read your thoughts, Oikawa coughs awkwardly and reaches down next to him.
“As adorable as this -” he gestures towards your dishevelled hair and generally I-just-woke-up appearance with his free hand, “is - we really need to get going.” Oikawa passes over your bag - which you’d forgotten in the main room the night before - and turns to leave you in peace.
“Better hurry up, Yama-chan, or you’ll miss one of the early trains!”
The journey back to Miyagi takes around three hours, but Oikawa makes it a little more bearable by trying his best to get you to Tsukuba’s main station as quickly as possible.
True to his word, Oikawa buys your new ticket and shoves it into your hands quicker than your guilt at such an expense can take hold. He waves your concerns away with a cheery, “I was the one who asked you to stay, Yama-chan! Don’t worry about it!”
Once you’re stood on the platform, things fall awkward between you as they never were yesterday. You pluck at the material of your hoodie. What are you supposed to say?
Oikawa, of course, picks up on the mood immediately. He fills the silence with an easy sort of chatter, the kind that distracts you from thoughts that threaten to wrench you back into reality. With a casual arm thrown over your shoulder, he tugs you closer and gestures grandly whilst explaining a new technique for serving he’s apparently improved upon since the start of university.
“Oikawa-san.” He stops mid-sentence at the sound of your voice, despite how quiet it is. With the sound of the wind rushing by - a by-product of the early morning rush of commuting trains - Oikawa shouldn’t be able to hear you, but he does.
“Thank you.” For everything is unspoken, but Oikawa still seems to understand.
He pulls back from you, only to place both hands on your shoulders instead. Now that you’re finally focusing on him, it’s easy for you to notice the tiredness in Oikawa’s eyes. Despite all of that, he still smiles at you.
You both stare at each other for long enough that you can hear your train start to approach. It rumbles over the tracks as Oikawa offers you a few final words.
“You’ll do fine, Tadashi-chan.” One of his hands shifts, and just as you think he might stroke your cheek again - and you shiver anticipatorily - the movement twists so that Oikawa is brushing back your hair instead. He tugs at your ponytail affectionately. “Keep my adorable kouhai in line, won’t you?”
That manages to pull a smile from your lips. “Kageyama isn’t that bad, you know.” He’s lightened up considerably since his first year, even if he does retain the same intensity whilst on the court.
“Of course he’s not.” Oikawa snorts, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair with surprise. Did he really just admit that? He grins at your bemused expression. “He learned from the best, after all.”
Oikawa tousles your hair one final time before releasing you from his grasp. “But don’t think you have a chance of beating Aoba Jousai.”
Your smile deepens as the older boy puffs himself up. “We’ll see about that.”
Your train finally comes to a halt, and you turn to meet it. You adjust the bag on your shoulder and breathe out, letting the last remnants of yesterday leave you in that final breath. There isn’t much else for you and Oikawa to say to one another, except for maybe one thing.
“Oh, Oikawa-san.” You turn back, and catch a wistful look just leaving his eyes. It further cements what you’d been about to say, and you can’t help the grin that spreads over your face. You flash Oikawa the most resolute expression you can muster. “You should come watch us win Nationals. I’ll text you the date.”
It’s those words - that one, definitive show of confidence from you - that finally tip Oikawa’s composure over the edge. He blushes a deep, cherry red in his cheeks as his eyes glitter with interest. Some of his brown hair blows into his face with the breeze of a passing train, but he hardly notices.
“Maybe I will, Yama-chan.” A genuine smile tugs at his lips.
Getting on the train is easy after that. The weight of your final year of school hangs over you as you step through the doors, but you’re more prepared for it this time.
The future, perhaps, isn’t quite so intimidating any more.