SWAG PARTICIPANT #88 i'm posting from my phone so i apologize for any weird formatting!
—
Oikawa is twenty-seven, and even after ten years, sometimes he thinks, I hate this guy.
But the thought loses the edge it would have had in high school, dulls as the distance between them closes with each successive practice. It's difficult to pin Tobio down as the threat that Oikawa had once seen him in high school because now, instead of being obstacles, they're standing in the same team, in the same side of the court, reaching for the same dream. That doesn't mean everything has been smooth-sailing since recruitment, though—four years of resentment are difficult to erase.
Tobio may not be the opponent anymore, but that doesn't mean Oikawa has to like him.
For one thing, Tobio is still a genius at twenty-five: prodigal plays, beautiful form, a lot of things that still fail to come easily to Oikawa. For another, Tobio looks at him with essentially the same eyes that chased him throughout middle school: longing and curious and timid. Everything remains irritating, and the thought of Tobio replacing him in national games is one that comes on occasion, but Oikawa blames it on over-exposure when he finds himself catching a feeling of fondness for Tobio. This is the physically closest they've ever been since middle school, day in and day out, so how can someone not get used to a person they spend so much time with?
But Tobio surprises him sometimes with the way he stops chasing, and it makes Oikawa also think, maybe it's not so bad, after all.
The uniform, fabric dark and heavy, practically burns into him, #1 reminding him of his place as captain. This is different from his high school days.
Oikawa is just stepping out of the locker room when he catches Tobio's gaze and the way his cheeks flush after. It makes Oikawa chuckle, how parts of Tobio's fifteen-year-old self stay the same, but he can tell what Tobio is thinking. He always could with the way that boy reads like an open book.
The same feeling lingers in Oikawa's stomach, too. This is one of the most important games of their lives.
Their eyes meet again, but Tobio immediately reverts his gaze. The way he twists his fingers into the edge of his jersey is more than enough for Oikawa to know. The gym just outside the door is wider and brighter than anything they've ever been in, and it reminds them both that this is no longer Japan. They've come a long way. Together.
"Come on, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says as he saunters up to a wide-eyed Tobio, clapping a hand onto his back. "You're going to help us win."
cw: aged up characters.
i'm posting from my phone so i apologize for any weird formatting!
—
Oikawa is twenty-seven, and even after ten years, sometimes he thinks, I hate this guy.
But the thought loses the edge it would have had in high school, dulls as the distance between them closes with each successive practice. It's difficult to pin Tobio down as the threat that Oikawa had once seen him in high school because now, instead of being obstacles, they're standing in the same team, in the same side of the court, reaching for the same dream. That doesn't mean everything has been smooth-sailing since recruitment, though—four years of resentment are difficult to erase.
Tobio may not be the opponent anymore, but that doesn't mean Oikawa has to like him.
For one thing, Tobio is still a genius at twenty-five: prodigal plays, beautiful form, a lot of things that still fail to come easily to Oikawa. For another, Tobio looks at him with essentially the same eyes that chased him throughout middle school: longing and curious and timid. Everything remains irritating, and the thought of Tobio replacing him in national games is one that comes on occasion, but Oikawa blames it on over-exposure when he finds himself catching a feeling of fondness for Tobio. This is the physically closest they've ever been since middle school, day in and day out, so how can someone not get used to a person they spend so much time with?
But Tobio surprises him sometimes with the way he stops chasing, and it makes Oikawa also think, maybe it's not so bad, after all.
The uniform, fabric dark and heavy, practically burns into him, #1 reminding him of his place as captain. This is different from his high school days.
Oikawa is just stepping out of the locker room when he catches Tobio's gaze and the way his cheeks flush after. It makes Oikawa chuckle, how parts of Tobio's fifteen-year-old self stay the same, but he can tell what Tobio is thinking. He always could with the way that boy reads like an open book.
The same feeling lingers in Oikawa's stomach, too. This is one of the most important games of their lives.
Their eyes meet again, but Tobio immediately reverts his gaze. The way he twists his fingers into the edge of his jersey is more than enough for Oikawa to know. The gym just outside the door is wider and brighter than anything they've ever been in, and it reminds them both that this is no longer Japan. They've come a long way. Together.
"Come on, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says as he saunters up to a wide-eyed Tobio, clapping a hand onto his back. "You're going to help us win."