Archive of Our Own

The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater. He wasn’t misunderstood, no, almost all Suga has heard about Oikawa seems to be exactly what the other boy wants people to see - all a part of the show. Watching Oikawa play is like watching a drama in three acts.

There was a certain rule in ancient courts, where one could not walk in without an invitation from the monarch. Any unapproved movement, no matter how well-intentioned, would be punishable by death. Suga is reminded of this tale as he looks at the way Oikawa walks into the gym. His presence commands something, but only out of those who are bold enough to give it to him. Suga watches the captain’s eyes scan the borders, gaze never faltering until they fall on Kageyama.

Pause. A stumble. Sudden stage fright.

Suga likes to believe his own appearance comes off as more innocent than he is. To think he would be naïve enough to bring his team this far without having done research of his own, though, is a bit insulting. He knows what middle school Oikawa comes from, and recognizes it when the name rolls off Kageyama’s tongue sometime during the first week of practice. The story may come in pieces but he’s a setter, he knows when to take a step back to see the bigger picture. After all, Suga himself is warming up to sit on the bench during what is likely to be his last season, all to watch a first-year play in his place.

On that note, Oikawa - ever the actor - clears his throat and continues to scan, locking eyes with Suga next. Usually, Suga would fret over first impressions and sportsmanship, all smiles and winks and waves. But something familiar in the gaze stops him. There is no pity, no scorn, not the typical intimidation that he uses to win the mental game, and Suga does not have to raise his eyebrows or open his mouth to ask why.

He senses the recognition there, feels the way it settles in the space between them. The truth – that the only thing dividing Suga and Oikawa is something as simple as a higher test score, some entrance exam instructor having pity on that fatal test day, and Kageyama could have been wearing the same white and green. Looking at Oikawa is like looking at a mirror, at the butterfly effect in motion. A different roll of the dice and the Great King would have been nothing more than an understudy.

Suga will admit that Oikawa plays his role well. He watches Kageyama stumble to the ground just minutes into the game, and watches Oikawa tower over him. They may not have known each other long, but Suga knows well enough to see right through Kageyama’s scowl. The way his shoulders shake ever so slightly each time Seijoh scores. He hears the taunts make their home on Karasuno’s side of the court. The audience is not in the stands, but out there on the floor. Everyone is watching a lead committed to the part. He watches each player fall for the act one by one, no one immune to the enigma that is Oikawa Tooru - unstoppable, unmoving, and ruthless. Suga watches his own team begin to chip away. Watches Oikawa’s team push and pull like an internal tug of war. Notices the tension in Iwaizumi and wonders passively if he ever finds himself falling for it too.

But Suga sees through it like freshly cleaned glass. It’s the same reason Suga smiles and shoves Asahi in the shoulder when he asks if Kageyama starting really doesn’t bother him. The way he insists that Daichi go ahead and walk with Michimiya after school, and that really he’s fine walking back alone, and god when was Daichi going to confess already?

Where Oikawa is cutting words, harsh laughter, Suga is tough love, always delivered with a smile. Different branches from the same root. Maybe this is just another roll of the dice that landed them on opposite sides of the net. Another fork in the road. Watching Oikawa get his knee checked during a time out, Suga thinks that they both know the feeling of offering their bodies as a sacrifice, but while Oikawa went up in flames, Suga went up in smoke.

Suga steps onto the court, Kageyama being too riled up to be of much use anymore. Despite how close the score is, Suga has yet to break a sweat. He fills a role of his own. He cheers on his teammates, encouraging them when they seem like they might not bounce back. He takes his position and looks across the net into eyes a bit browner than his own, without the golden touch. Ironic, he thinks, the lack of warmth. There’s a catch of breath, a flush of cheeks. Something inherently vulnerable, like being seen for the first time. It all happens in less than a second, then a whistle is blown and the curtain rises once again. A curt nod and the moment is swept away by the cries of each team.

Suga helps his teammates score some points, and it feels like stretching wings. He hears Oikawa mutter the word “refreshing” under his breath and Suga gives him his signature smile, realizing that when one doesn’t find Oikawa intimidating, his resolve could actually be motivating, even from the other side.

Inevitably, Suga is called back to the bench, Kageyama put back in the game, and sparing one last glance he sees Oikawa give a soft smile, a smirk sanded down at the edges. It wasn’t quite respect, but it was somewhere around the corner. Feeling like he was let in on an inside joke, Suga smiles to himself. He doesn't miss the questioning look Coach Ukai gives him. He knows the coach felt guilty, always putting him on the bench. It’s why he came up to the coach himself and spoke what he knew they were all thinking: Suga was good, but Kageyama was on track to be great.

Another fork – resent the first-year or take him under his wing. Suga was never one to make a victim of himself - though maybe some days a martyr. Watching Kageyma play now, though, it's hard to regret the path he chose, not when he sees the way Kageyama soften and move with the rest of the team.

It's with this thought in mind that he watches Hinata close his eyes and leap. Witnesses first-hand as it all unfolds, sees Hinata’s feet touch the ground, already noticing the lack of cheers. The smack of the ball on the floor, coming from too close behind.

Suga wants to yell at him to keep his eyes closed. To keep the illusion for a second longer. The whole court freezes, and he chances a glance at Asahi, then with a deep breath slides his eyes over to Daichi. His captain, the one who picked him as his right-hand man without a second thought. They seem to be in sync most times - it wasn’t until moments like these that they fell out of rhythm. Now he watches as dreams of nationals solidify in their minds as just that-dreams.

Suga knows how different it can feel on the court, the belief that you could really win it all if you just kept pushing. One more point, one more receive. But Suga has never been like that, never is quite able to lose himself in the rush the way Daichi can. Maybe that is the eternal curse of the setter, to always be ten steps ahead, never quite in the moment. Even then, he wishes he could be like Kageyama, not in skill but in the way he seems to switch that insight off the second he leaves the court.

Suga notices everything, always, and no matter how hard he tries to push it back he could not shake the feeling that Karasuno was flying closer and closer to the sun.

Looking across the court, he watches as Seijoh cheers and screams. Oikawa is fully embracing his role as he pointedly looks at Kageyama, watches with amusement at the way the boy is left speechless, broken. Oikawa has won, his opponents are beaten down to the point that words fail them, and everything is going according to the script.

End scene.

Suga doesn’t have time to sit with the pain of losing though, doesn’t get to let the panic settle in. He has to usher everyone out of the gym, insist they all get something to eat before the tears start to flow whether or not he is ready for them.

He tells Daichi he’s going for a walk around the time the boys start to settle down, insisting he’s fine, just needs to escape the gym smell. And Daichi trusts Suga, so he believes him, and Suga wants to hate him for it. The way he can never look deep enough to really see Suga, the way Suga lets him, every time.

He’s stopped at some tree, not sure where he is but still able to see the dim lighting of the building, assuring him he hasn’t wandered too far. When he is sure he’s completely alone, he lets it all crumble, heaves a sigh, and looks back on the day. Thinks of Oikawa, the way he felt so familiar and yet Suga still envied him. Envied the way he could act untouchable, the way his team, no matter how much they teased him, always gave him room to breathe, to prove himself.

“Sugawara Koushi,” he hears and knows immediately by the formality that it’s not Daichi or Asahi, not any of the younger ones by the lack of “senpai”.

“Please, call me Suga,” comes the reply before he can even think about it, warm smile plastered on his face, “That was some game, wasn’t it?”

Oikawa looks at him, gaze calculating, and responds, “No surprise we won, though,” smirking at Suga with all razor-sharp edge.

Suga doesn’t respond, not right away. It’s a test, he thinks to himself. He’s reminded of what the boys said last night, when they found out they could be playing Seijoh.

“Oikawa is insane bro, he has this motto…”

He looks directly into Oikawa’s eyes, and in another context, he’d be embarrassed. Suga always made a point to keep his gaze at other boys short, not to ogle too obviously, lest someone figure out his secret - the reason he’s never confessed for over a year now. But there’s no threat here, not a real one anyway. He’s been exposed enough, caught out here once he’s finally let his guard down.

“ ‘If you’re gonna hit it…’ ”

There’s a hesitation there, and he knows what Oikawa is expecting. He wants Suga riled up, expecting an explosion. His aura has yet to shake Suga all day, and like any boy his age, the desire to be seen loses to the craving of feeling powerful. And while flames may destroy, smoke blurs, and that’s always been Suga’s advantage, the way you never really knew what to expect. A bright smile before a cutting jab.

“ ‘…hit it ‘til it breaks.' ”

“But you don't really believe that, do you?” Suga finally asks, "After all, you're out here, with me."

Oikawa falters. Suga phrases it as a question but they both know it's mere observation. Suga goes off-script, sees the one crack in Oikawa’s pretty porcelain, and aims true. They both know that today only prolongs the inevitable, that wherever the hero is found tragedy doesn't roam far behind.

“Of course I do. I didn’t take you to be a sore loser, Suga-chan,” Oikawa retorts, charming smile on full display.

“Trust me, I’m used to losing,” Suga says sweetly, pulls out a smile of his own, “I can give you some pointers in case you want to prepare.”

Another pause and Suga worries he's taken it too far, that maybe he is reading it all wrong. He wants to say he'd regret it, if he actually manages to strike a nerve. Seeing the first-years he's grown so fond of the way they were tonight leaves him tired, no energy to hide the bite in his tone.

But Oikawa seems to switch strategies, and for a second the facade crumbles, says, “I like you,” so smoothly that if it wasn't for the soft tinge to his cheeks and a slight widening of the eyes, Suga would believe it's just some attempt to charm him. But there is only an audience of one, no one else is watching in this moment and they are past the point of trying to fool the other.

“I like you too,” he responds before he thinks to stop himself, if only because he will not let Oikawa be the only brave one. It’s not due to Oikawa’s charm, but rather the pure honesty in his gaze, the way he says it as though the admission feels like losing.

“But-” Suga continues quickly, thinking of his team, what they’d say if they saw him as he were in this moment.

“You don’t owe them anything, you know,” Oikawa cuts him off and it should sting, it should be harsh but he says it so softly, and Suga is torn.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suga bites back because Oikawa doesn’t, he doesn’t know that this is what Suga does. Puts others before himself, convinces himself that he can enjoy life in the shadows, talks himself out of what he really wants. He loves his team. They're like family, and no matter how pitiful it sounded, he’d give anything to see them win.Even if it meant denying himself off the court as well.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” and it’s the small smile that annoys Suga because just as much as he’s seen through Oikawa today it hasn’t sunk in until now just how easily Suga’s cover dissolves in front of the other boy. Senses they both know the need to give and give and give all too well.

“I hate you,” Suga bites because he still has his pride, and Oikawa smiles, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

“Call me,” he says simply, and turns to walk away.

“Why? Is this some kind of intimidation strategy? Using me to get to Kageyama?” Suga says, shivering slightly as a breeze sweeps through, branches swaying and he feels it too, the push and pull.

Oikawa stops, turns to look at him, and it takes everything for Suga not to shrink into himself.

“No it's completely selfish. I'm not stupid enough to believe that I have any power to slow him down, not while he's got you.”

“I'm not a threat to him,” Suga responds, and it's quiet, a confession hanging in the air between them.

At this Oikawa pauses, “Not in skill no,” and Suga does not wince, "but you have something he needs. They trust you, your team. No amount of skill matters if your team won't look to you."

“So then what do you want from me? I didn’t take you as someone soft.” Suga responds, because he won't thank Oikawa, won't let him know that those words mean something.

“For now? Just a friend,” Oikawa says, close enough again now to look Suga in the eye, height difference apparent in the way Suga has to look up a bit. Suga goes still because there's a suggestion there, and he's not yet sure if this is just part of a cruel act or if there's something genuine about it. He's scared of how much of him wants it to be honest, wants to be someone that catches Oikawa's eye.

“I'm sure you know this, but I don't like to lose,” Oikawa continues, “I know what I want, and I think you do too. If I’m right, give me a call. If I’m not, you can burn that for all I care. Either way, something tells me this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, Suga-chan.” And with nothing else, Oikawa turns with a smile and a wave.

Yes, Suga thinks as he watches the other boy walk away, Oikawa was built for the main stage. All theatrics, even at his most vulnerable. He would take the world by storm one of these days. Suga knows it like he knows tomorrow he’ll have to convince Daichi not to give up his captaincy, have to help bring Hinata and Kageyama back together when they finally snap. There’s something fated about it, something Suga can’t help but want all for himself.

Suga has always been enamored with the idea of choice, of action and consequence. As he tucks the paper into his pocket, he already knows the one he's made.