Chapter Text
“Oikawa-san, can you teach me how to serve?”
“Oikawa-san teach me how to set like that!
“Oikawa-san!”
“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?! He’s only a first-year!”
“Shittykawa stop bullying the first-years!
The air smelt of sweat and pride, rows of seats filled to the brim with people, cheering and booing, some sobbing, others barely holding it together. Shoes squeaked across courts, balls flew like arrows, meant to destroy and take.
“Ike, ike, ike, ike Seijoh!”
“Ose, ose, ose, ose, ose Seijoh!”
The crowd erupted into cheers as the court's rulers arrived. Aoba Johsai, one of the Top 4 schools in the Miyagi Prefecture. School to one of the strongest and well-rounded players. Oikawa Tooru stepped onto the court, a sense of deja vu flooding his memory. This was the very court he’d stood on, and faced a loss painful; it was etched into his very being.
“This time.” He thought, “This time I will win.”
“Iwa-chan!”
The ball soared through the air, like a bird in peak flight, sailing above the net in the perfect angle, position and timing. Iwaizumi stared at it, almost mesmerised, a perfect toss. Too bad it didn’t give them a perfect score…
27-25
An imperfect score for a perfect set…
“I-ke, i-ke, Karasuno!”
“Line up! Shake hands!”
“Otsukaresama deshita!”
“Oi! We’ll make it next time.”
“...”
This time he was going to win, even if it killed him.
.
.
.
The whistle screamed, shrill and final, breaking the intense silence.
Match point.
Oikawa breathed, wiping his palms against his jersey, keeping his breathing steady and grounded. He had to be calm, impeccable, and focused. The court seemed to stretch out in front of him. Karasuno stood on the other side, ready, relentless, hungry. Their libero had his eyes fixed on him, boring into his soul, a grin made its way onto his face, he was going destroy their hunger, that thirst for winning, he was going to crumble into rubble.
The whistle blew, he inhaled and smiled.
Oikawa took off, his steps were light, carefree until the last step, his jump. He leapt up, soaring up high, arm pulled back like a drawn bowstring.
The ball met his palm with a crack
The ball screamed through the air, spinning like no tomorrow, cruel and fast. It crossed the net like it was going to end everything once and for all.
Nishinoya dived.
The ball slammed into his arms; he could feel the force of it in his bones, a grunt left his throat, but the ball didn’t hit the floor. It bounced off and flew up, nice and high.
“SORRY! IT’S LONG”
Oikawa’s smile wobbled.
Of course, it was picked up. He put less power into it. Tch, he really thought the shrimp was going to pick it up.
“ALRIGHT!”
All of Karasuno’s players lunged forward at the same time, jumping perfectly in sync. Kageyama tossed the ball, which flew through the air, aligning with Hinata, but at the last moment, it sailed past his fingers. Hanamakki, Kindaichi and Iwaizumi went for a third-person on Hinata, the ball flew past to Asashi, who was already in the air, the ball perfectly synced with his swing.
“DID YOU SEE THAT BLOCKKKKKKK!!!?????!”
“ONE TOUCH!”
Mastukawa, who was watching the ball intently, had read it and went for Asahi, the ball hit palm and flew off. Watari dove, and the ball was in the air again.
“OIKAWA!”
It was Iwaizumi who asked for the toss.
.
.
.
Received. that's how you lost.
You tossed to him before, and where did that lead you to?
It cost you a loss.
.
.
.
“IWA-"
No.
"MATTSUN!”"
Oikawa called out, the ball already out of his hands, it soared past Iwaizumi, past the ace of the team and flew into the line of Matsukawa Issei.
The ball smacked hard into Karasuno’s court, none of the players expecting Matsukawa to hit. The whistle blew, point to Aoba Johsai.
Won. They won.
The team erupted into cheers and screams.
“Nice toss, Oikawa”
“Nice kill, Mattsun”
Oikawa grinned. This was it, they were going to the nationals. He was going to the nationals. They won because of him.
“LINE UP, SHAKE HANDS!”
“OTSUKARESAMA DESHITA!”
“Oi, why didn’t you toss to me?”
“What do you mean, Iwa?”
“You know damm well what I mean”
Oikawa hummed. He didn’t do anything wrong. What the hell was up with Iwaizumi?
“I tossed to Mattsun to surprise them Iwa, tossing to you would’ve been too obvious, and you had three blockers, I did you a favour Iwa-ch..”
Iwaizumi stayed silent, Oikawa shrugged.
“C’mon, we have nationals to win”
“I have nationals to win,”
“Oikawa, how long are you going practice for? My arms are getting tireddddd” Hanamakki complained while tossing another ball for Oikawa who set it perfectly.
“The nationals are a month away, Makki! I have to practice!” He huffed
“Don’t you mean ‘we’? You're not the only one who’s practising Shittykawa” Iwaizumi seemed to materialise from nowhere, shirt damp from sweat.
“Ah, yes.. I meant ‘we’.. Where did you even come from, Iwa-chan?”
Iwaizumi shrugged, pointing to Kyotani who looked angry and exhausted.
“Ah..”
Hanamakki then left, mumbling about needing sleep, along with Mattsun who agreed. Kuinimi and Kindaichi had left long ago, and Watari disappeared the second the practice officially ended. Yabaha didn’t come due to being sick.
Jump
Toss
Hit
Hit it hard, hit it until it breaks.
Oikawa hit serve after serve. Perfect, it has to be perfect. I have to be perfect-er than Ushiwaka, perfecter than anyone. Perfect, perfect, perfect, PERFECT!
Higher! Jump higher, hit harder, how are you going to fucking win when you can’t even hit the ball, higher, harder!
“Oikawa”
The ball slipped out of his hand too early; his jump timing was off.
“Iwa”
His aura was cold and annoyed, but he kept it under.
“Go home”
“No”
“You're tired, and pushing yourself is going to make you worse”
“No, I’m not tired.”
“You’ve been at this for hours, dumbass, you're tired, enough is enough”
“Enough isn’t how you get better, Iwaizumi.”
He tossed the ball up and smacked it. Clean serve over the net, hitting the ground with a brutal thud.
Oikawa didn’t look satisfied.
He never did anymore, only disappointed, angry, as if what he just did wasn’t enough, he wanted more, more, more.
“Fine, but don’t expect me to drag your exhausted ass to practice tomorrow”
It didn’t slip by him, the fact that Oikawa called him ‘Iwaizumi’ instead of ‘Iwa-chan’. It hurt, but it wasn’t the time for that. He picked up a ball and tossed it to the setter.
“Toss for me, if you're going to ruin yourself, I may as well join you”