Chapter Text
Tooru yawned as he slung his bag over his shoulder. He was tired. So very tired. Having stayed up a good chunk of the night before getting a read on his opponents and having literally just played three whole games of volleyball; it was safe to say he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. So could you really blame him for doing a U-turn and practically booking it when he caught sight of his fangirls outside?
Don't get him wrong! Tooru loves his fangirls, or at least the attention he gets from them—but that's not the point!— the point is that they were exhausting. Always ‘Oikawa-san!’ this and ‘Oikawa-san!’ that. And to be quite honest, getting shot in the face would prove to be less draining.
He made his way back where he first came from silently praying to any deity out there that they didn't spot hi-
Annnd there was the squealing.
God must hate him.
Tooru quickened his pace until he got around the corner and broke out into a sprint. He knew it was childish, but if Hajime’s scouldings were anything to go by; he was childish. So really he was just being himself.
He hid behind a pillar a little further down the hall; he might be childish, but he wasnt stupid and knew he wouldnt be able to outrun a hoard of girls on a slightly aching knee while exhausted that quickly.
He was completely right in his assessment because not even a second later he heard the girls turn the corner.
He held his breath and slowly started counting.
One.
The girls murmured confusedly amongst each other, no doubt wondering where he was.
Two.
They sounded more like they were bickering now. Honestly they got on worse than he and Iwa-chan sometimes!
Three. They sounded like they were getting closer. Oh shit. Did they spot him? They could have spotted him right. Right?
Four. They definitely were getting closer. What was he going to do? Shit. Oh fuck. He looked around, maybe-just maybe- something in his surroundings could help him.
Five.
There were stairs right over there, if he could just get over there and up them without his fangirls noticing.
Six.
Okay fuck it. He probably looked ridiculous crouching toward the stairs, but he wasn't about to crawl. And this was his best bet.
Seven.
He got to the foot of the stairs. When he saw a flash of long blonde hair.
They were getting closer.
Why did this feel like a horror movie?
He had nearly nothing except his reputation, his dignity, his soul and a little more to lose. So what, (except the weight of the entire universe) would it matter if he just made a break for it and ran up the stairs?
Well he was about to find out as he disappeared up the stairwell.
He had only gotten so far down the hallway until he heard what could equate to a hoard of zombies or just a group of people racing up the stairs.
Tooru panicked, looked around and saw the doors to a bathroom that had a piece of paper with the words ‘Out of order’ on it. Sensing an escape he pushed open the heavy wooden door, shut it quietly and slumped against it in relief.
At Least until he noticed that he wasn't alone.
Heavy breathing and occasional shaky sobs alerted him that he was in the room with someone. Tooru snapped out of his tired bliss and scanned the room, now alert and awake he met eyes with none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Both pairs of eyes widened and while the other captain's breaths were already worryingly fast, they quickened even more, he was shaking, really badly, and tears threatened to fall from his eyes at any moment. Tooru swallowed thickly, what was he going to do? Oh fuck what was he going to do?!
His rival was on the floor in a bathroom having a panic attack.
Does he help? If he helps would that make Ushiwaka angry?
Tooru knows that if the normally stoic boy would try to help him if he was having a panic attack; he would be pissed.
But they’re not the same person.
Fuck it. Tooru racks his brains, Hajime normally helps him when he finds himself in a similar state.
‘Okay Tooru. Just be Iwa-chan and you’ll both be fine.' At that thought, Tooru pulls himself as together as humanly possible.
“Hey uh-” Ushiwaka’s looking at him now, or atleast in his general direction. “Uh- I’m gonna need you to breathe… Uh fuck uhm, Is it alright if I come closer?”
He got a hesitant nod as his answer.
Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, Tooru made his way toward his esteemed enemy. He was crouching down next to the boy now. Taking a deep breath himself before trying to continue.
“Alright… alright- So uhh, just try to match my breathing, okay?... Great. Er uh… you’re, you’re doing great Ushiwaka” Tooru cringed internally at his words, god he was horrible at this. But it seemed to be working, so that was something.
If Tooru had to guess it took around ten minutes to get Ushiwaka fully calm.
He reached into his gym bag, took out his water bottle and handed it to Ushiwaka who thanked him quietly.
“So do you, wanna talk about why you were, in the bathroom having a panic attack–Its fine if you dont feel comfortable– but uhh, i normally find talking about it helps… sometimes” Realising he was rambling Tooru shut the fuck up. He and Ushiwaka were enemies for fuck's sake! He shouldn't be being nice to the bastard!
“It was nothing important, just some family matters. I apologise for the inconvenience Oikawa.”
It was strange seeing Ushijima avoid eye contact and act so timid. And while the boy normally irked Tooru, he’d prefer that over whatever this was.
“It wasn't an inconvenience Ushiwaka. I know we sort of hate each other,” Tooru’s tone became a little lighter, signifying he was joking. Something by the look on Ushijima’s face, Tooru noticed the other definitely picked up on it. Which was a bit of a shock. “But seriously, I’d never judge you for anything like that. Ever. I’m not that horrible of a person.”
Another thing that shocked Tooru was the fact that Ushijima could smile?
Who knew.
“Thank you, Oikawa. I am in your debt.” Ushiwaka mumbled as his hands fiddled with the bottle.
“Hey! None of that! It's what good rivals do! Now I should probably get going before Iwa-chan murders me.!”
Tooru helped his esteemed enemy up and both boys walked out of the bathroom;unwittingly having planted the seeds of a questionable friendship.