Chapter Text
The door was shut. Kuroo stood there, looking at it for a couple of minutes. At least he was nice enough to close it. He put a hand into his right pocket and grabbed his phone, typing a number without even looking. He scratched his head while waiting for Kenma to pick it up, oblivious of the fact that he was probably messing his hair even more. When Kenma answered he tried to explain the situation, with calm and clarity. He probably failed.
“Seriously?” The plain and calm voice on the other side of the phone showed a hint of worry, a tiny, little hint only Kuroo would notice.
“Yes, I was having my cup of coffee and I heard a cry that almost made me drop my cup”, Kuroo said, still scratching his head, “I went up to look at what was going on, I was already thinking that someone was pointing a gun at him-”
“He screams like an idiot even if he finds a split end in his hair”, Kenma commented.
“That was not it, it was way worse! I got there and I found him looking at the mirror, but not like usual, like he was gonna have sex with himself, but with a face… oh God he looked totally shocked. He had his hands in his hair while staring at his face with his mouth open and huge eyes.”
“Just a split end I guess.”
“No, Kenma!” he said while walking furiously in his kitchen, “He turned at me and basically screamed again asking me who the hell I was.”
“Oikawa is weird sometimes.”
“Oikawa is definitely weird, but this was much worse! I tried to calm him down, but hell he was freaking out, when I approached him, he punched me and I was like ‘are you mad dude?’, he kept saying that that was not his body, that his name wasn’t Oikawa and that he would definitely remember if he had a roommate with, and I quote, with such horrid hair. I wanted to punch him back, I was starting to freak out myself.”
Kenma kept quiet from a bit, “Was he drunk?”
“Oh come on, we know how he is when he’s drunk and he couldn’t be because this night he stayed at home. I’m seriously worried.”
“Is he still in his room?”
“No, that’s the stupidest thing! He run away screaming he was going to the police because he’s claiming I kidnapped him!”
Kenma couldn’t help a snort.
“Are you laughing, now? Are you all out of your mind?!”
“No, sorry, it’s just ridiculous. I’m not sure if you’re not pranking me, actually.”
“Ken, I can’t believe it. I’m here, in panic and you think I’m joking? This is insane, I don’t know what is going on, I have a lesson in like three minutes and I’m here talking to someone who doesn’t believe me while Oikawa is going to the police and-“
“Wait, wait, give me a minute, I’ll get there, but if it’s a prank I’ll ask Tsukishima to kill you. He’ll be grateful if I’ll give him a reason to kill you.”
***
Oikawa turned in his bed, feeling content and relaxed. It was weird for him to wake up before the alarm clock rang, but he was happy he could enjoy some other time in the warmth of his covers.
Even his knee felt way lighter than usual, he was happy it was improving day by day. He stayed in the sheets for long, eyes closed and he slowly fell again into a calm sleep.
He woke up later, a hint of panic because the damn clock hadn’t rung yet and he felt he was getting way too sleep. The bitch must have broken; he opened his eyes to turn toward it, afraid to know what time it was and realize he wasted all his morning in the bed but…
Instead of his nightstand or his closet with a huge mirror, he found a little room, a desk full of not better-specified stuff, a chair covered in clothes, not his definitely, a small closet and a couch. The window was half closed, letting some sunrays getting in the room.
Oikawa was confused, for some seconds he thought he was in someone else’s room, it happened often after one of his wild nights, but he was sure he stayed at home yesterday, studying for un upcoming exam.
He raised a hand to rub his eyes but he was horrified to notice that that was definitely not his hand. He would have described it as sun-kissed, tan in a way that his way-too-clear skin would never get (whenever he tried to he just got red like a cherry), it was thicker than his but smaller in some way, it definitely missed Oikawa’s usual softness and elegance. He looked at his arms, they were definitely not his, they looked nice very nice, but he felt pure panic in his muscular abdomen, he got up from his bed, touching the cold floor with his bare foots. He glanced at the legs that popped out from his shorts, not his, and he desperately looked for a mirror while touching his face like a blind person would do.
Definitely, that face was not his, that short hair was not his, that horrible blue shirt was not his, nor those grey shorts. He looked for a mirror desperately, anything that could reflect his image. He moved all the papers on the desk and finally he found a phone. He thanked all the Gods for a lack of password, he pressed on the camera as if he was going to take a selfie. He looked at that face. He seriously did. He moved it, making weird faces. He was in control of that face, he could move that mouth, he could lift those eyebrows but that wasn’t his face. Nothing in that room was his. He attempted to speak. He heard a deep and warm voice. That was enough to make him lose his mind and fall on the ground unconscious.