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Kageyama heard Oikawa’s sharp intake of breath before he really felt the actual slap against his delicate skin. He could practically hear the regret and anxiety blooming within the older setter’s voice as Tooru jolted back, trying to make distance between himself and his kohai as quickly as possible.
Everything had happened so quickly.
“Oikawa-san? Do you think you could teach me how to serve today?”
Tobio’s voice was as soft and hopeful as ever as he peered towards his senpai, a beaming grin on his pink lips. He’d been subbed in for an earlier match when Oikawa had unfortunately begun to lose his cool, and the first-year had never felt better.
Tooru, however, certainly wasn’t feeling the same way.
Kageyama had never realized the panic attack that had begun to take hold of Oikawa’s quivering body, his head in a completely different space as he gripped the volleyball in a tightening grip. Perhaps if Tobio had been more perceptive, more obvious of his surroundings, he would have realized. But he hadn’t.
Kageyama had never realized how much the next few moments would shape both himself and Oikawa in the future.
“Oikawa-san?”
There was a sharp intake of breath from Tooru, his shoulders shaking, and the volleyball slipped from his white-knuckled clutch.
Oikawa slowly turned around on his heel, so he was facing Kageyama. There was pure, unbridled fury in his gaze, something that had never once been directed to Tobio before.
No matter how many fights Kageyama and Oikawa would get into, no matter how much Tobio might be, unintentionally, irritating the older boy, such fury had never been thrown towards him. Not until now, it appeared.
Oikawa was a blazing inferno of rage, so lost within his own pain and anger that he didn’t even take a moment to contemplate his following actions. His muscles were soaked with a thick tension, the usual teasing, playful Tooru gone - dispersed into a monster that even he couldn’t begin to contain. There was no stopping him now. No preventing what would happen.
Tooru’s hand lifted, shaking and clenching and unclenching.
The older setter gave another breath, fire spreading throughout his aching body.
“Get away from me!”
He swung.
Tobio stared onwards, the stinging in his cheek just another thought in his racing, frazzled mind. The force of the slap had sent his head spinning to the side, almost flinging the first-year towards the cold, unforgiving ground, but he’d managed to catch himself.
Kageyama’s tongue flicked out to wet his dry, split lips. A faint trail of blood had begun to bubble and blister on the surface of his rough skin, caught within the force of Oikawa’s sharpened nails.
The feel of Oikawa’s calloused palm hitting against his skin had truly felt like the force of a thousand whips. Kageyama could barely begin to comprehend what he’d done to deserve such treatment – what he’d done to deserve a physical altercation between himself and his senpai.
Was Tooru ever actually Kageyama’s senpai? Tobio had assumed that he was; both he and Iwaizumi had been there for him when he’d first joined Kitagawa Daiichi. They’d looked after him; helped him with his volleyball; guided him in more ways than just one.
But was it all just fake?
Kageyama would have understood if Oikawa didn’t like him anymore. He would have understood if Oikawa didn’t want to be around him. But why couldn’t the third-year have just told him that? Tobio didn’t think he deserved to be hit.
Tobio’s lips parted, his gaze shifting over to Oikawa’s guilt-ridden expression for a moment, but it was quickly averted again.
His hands were shaking in front of his stomach, the younger gently wringing them together – a nervous habit he’d picked up along the line of his currently short life.
Kageyama’s heart was aching within his chest, an emotional hurt that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. Of course, his face was burning with a painful agony, but it was nothing compared to the loss and longing that was residing within him. He had just wanted to be good enough for his senpai.
That’s all he’d wanted, ever since he’d first seen Oikawa’s incredible serve. Kageyama had just wanted to be like the older boy.
But maybe not now.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Oikawa-san.”
Kageyama’s head was bowed now, his voice shaking and thick with emotion as he stared hard towards his volleyball shoes. They were the same as the ones that Oikawa had on now. Tobio had begged and begged his grandfather to get him them, despite their expensive label.
Perhaps Tobio should look for a different pair. Maybe Oikawa would prefer that too?
Water was beginning to fill Kageyama’s eyes up to the brim, his baby-blues growing a shining film over them. He didn’t want to look up at his senpai; he didn’t wish for Oikawa to know that he was crying. That would simply be another thing that the setter could make fun of Tobio for.
“Tobio-”
“I’ll be going now, uhm, Oikawa-san.”
Kageyama nodded a little forcefully, his vision blurring as he stepped away from the brunette and spun around. His breaths were coming in quicker now, forcing him to try and keep as steady as he could as he headed for the nearest room.
Tobio just needed to get his bag – just his bag, and then he could leave. He could go home to his waiting grandfather and forget that this had ever happened. He could really try to move away from Tooru, no matter how much it might hurt.
What was his discomfort when Oikawa would clearly be happier without him around?
A hiccupped breath bubbled past Kageyama’s crimson, quivering lips, and he practically threw himself into the locker room, his back slowly sliding down against the closing door. He’d never felt more relieved to be inside of that room until that point.
Tobio’s arms wrapped around his small legs as they drew to his chest, and his face pushed in between his knees.
The sting of his cheek was nothing compared to the sting in his heart.