Chapter Text
Oikawa thought that maybe Ushijima existed only to irritate him. Once, (or maybe twice or ten times) he told Iwaizumi about his theory. Iwaizumi’s face immediately turned an unflattering shade of maroon and his eyes darted around, fingers twitching in a way that meant he was looking for something to throw at Oikawa.
If he didn’t find anything, it meant that Iwaizumi was going to hit Oikawa head-on. He made himself scarce for the rest of that practice.
Later, when they were walking home Iwaizumi said, “I don’t think Ushijima is that bad of a guy.”
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasped. “Take that back right now!”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s true. It fucking sucks that he beat us so many times, but outside of volleyball, he’s not that bad.”
Oikawa opened his mouth to argue with Iwaizumi further, which was always a good way to pass the time, but shut his mouth at the harsh side-eye he received. He settled for pouting a little instead and grumbled, “Iwa-chan is supposed to be on my side.”
He was wholly ignored, and the conversation was forgotten for the next two years.
✺
College volleyball was thrilling in a way that just couldn’t compete with high school. Maybe it was because he never made it to the massive event that was the Spring High Tournament, but the large crowd, the attention, the everything, made Oikawa’s blood feel like it was on fire and the only way to quell that heat was to absolutely crush the other team.
Chuo University has been good for Oikawa. So good, in fact, that his team won the national volleyball tournament the year prior and were the clear hopeful for the same title in this year’s tournament. Oikawa wasn’t a starter, not yet, but he was able to play over two sets in the final game. He saw the gleam in his coach’s eyes when he set up perfect ball after perfect ball and slammed down three no-touch serves. The pressure of the game proved only to sharpen his carefully honed skills, and it showed. Oikawa felt confident that he would not have to worry about whether or not he would be starting this school year.
That summer break was both too long and too short. He spent a couple of weeks in Miyagi with his parents and caught up with his high school friends. Iwaizumi went back to Tokyo with him to spend a few more weeks in Oikawa’s tiny on-campus apartment. His oldest friend told any and everyone that he was being dragged by Oikawa, but the excitement in his eyes said otherwise. They played volleyball in the park with Oikawa’s teammates and spent the evenings messing around at bars in downtown Tokyo. Oikawa would never admit it, but it was so reminiscent of their childhood (and teenage years, their entire lives up until the last year, really) together that it made Oikawa want to ask Iwaizumi to transfer schools and move in with him.
Maybe the summertime nostalgia was rotting Oikawa’s brain into a sappy mess.
When Iwaizumi parted with a simple wave at the train gates, Oikawa was sure that that was what heartbreak felt like. An entire month spent with his best friend and lifelong secret crush had made Oikawa so deeply grateful for Iwaizumi and so relentlessly sad that he would never be able to have what he truly wanted.
Oikawa finally had his national championship. It was even on a college level. He should be satisfied.
The issue with being a highly competitive person meant that he would never be satisfied.
So, when the time to start official volleyball practice finally rolled around, Oikawa was relieved. It meant that he could throw all his attention into where it belonged - on the court. It was refreshing to see his upperclassmen again, the ones he didn’t know well enough to reach out to over the summer. There was a buzz in the air that Oikawa felt as soon as he walked into the gym. He greeted everyone as he usually would - with a flamboyant ya-hoo - and settled into a conversation with a second-year wing spiker.
Bokuto Koutarou took one look at him and said, “There’s my second favorite setter!”
Oikawa fought the urge to roll his eyes right at Bokuto’s excitable face. Last year had been off to a rocky start - Bokuto took every opportunity to point out that Oikawa was not exactly like the setter he played with in high school. It didn’t matter much to Oikawa at the start, because he knew his tosses were more than good, but the coaches wanted to shape Bokuto into the ace of the team by his third year. This meant that Oikawa had to do anything to keep him happy. “And there’s my second favorite wing spiker!” He replied, hoping that Bokuto didn’t pick up on the slight edge in his tone.
Bokuto grinned. “Y’know, it hurt when you used to say that to me last year, but now that I’ve played with Iwaizumi, I know where you’re coming from. This year, I’ll show you how much better I am!”
Oikawa hummed in a way that was neither an agreement or disagreement. He didn’t point out that Bokuto had said the same thing to Oikawa a hundred times before. “Why is everyone so on edge today?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear? The coaches told us that there’s a new player starting today.”
“The first years are supposed to start next week, right?”
Bokuto nodded. “This guy isn’t a first year. I heard he’s a second-year transfer student.”
Oikawa blinked. That was extremely uncommon. Chuo was a prestigious university and the volleyball team was currently at its peak. All of their players had been scouted in high school. “What’s his name?”
Bokuto opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when the coaches came into the gymnasium.
A deep, cold pit of dread formed in Oikawa’s stomach.
Following closely behind the coaches was one Ushijima Wakatoshi.
✺
Oikawa had overcome a lot of hardship in his twenty years of life. There were long days filled with self-doubt that gave way to determination in the face of geniuses, injuries, and a few sad, uncertain years wherein Oikawa finally quietly admitted to himself that he was gay.
When Chuo had won the national championship last year, he thought that his life was taking a turn for the better - he supposed that maybe his luck was turning around. He had achieved one of his life goals in his first year of university. Everything else would start looking up, too.
As soon as he saw the blank stare of Ushijima Wakatoshi, he knew that his luck had run out, died, and been set aflame.
The coaches had Ushijima introduce himself, deep voice akin to nails on a chalkboard in Oikawa’s ears. He said that he transferred from Waseda University and he was looking forward to working with everyone. Blah, blah, blah.
Ushijima was set up with the starters for his very first practice, because, of course, Ushijima got to just walk in and take a spot on the best men’s university volleyball team in all of Japan. Of course.
Oikawa remained with the other peasants on the B team, where he apparently belonged. He set perfect toss after perfect toss, determined not to let Ushijima’s presence affect his game because that would be too much of a blow to his pride. The sets were so good that the coach watching their practice loudly applauded Oikawa’s technique.
He hoped that Ushijima heard. There was a distinct prickle at the back of his neck that told him he was being watched, but that could’ve been anyone. He would’ve turned to look, but Oikawa was worried that making eye contact with Ushijima may have turned him to stone.
When practice was over, he immediately fled to his dorm. Classes didn’t begin for another week, and Oikawa would be damned if he had to spend more time in the locker room with Ushijimia than was strictly necessary.
✺
“Iwa-chan,” he hissed into the receiver of his phone. “I told you Ushijima exists just to irritate me!”
Oikawa could practically feel the eye roll Iwaizumi was giving him, despite the hundred miles between them. There was a lot of clicking coming from the phone. Iwaizumi must have been playing video games. “What, Tokyo isn’t big enough for the two of you? Where did you even see him?”
“Practice, Iwa-chan! He transferred to Chuo,” Oikawa said, hysteria seeping into his words. “We are on the same team now.”
There was a long pause then, and Oikawa only felt a brief flash of satisfaction that he won a two-year-old argument with Iwaizumi before he remembered the reason he called his best friend. “...Are you serious?” This was all Iwaizumi could think to say. He had never been the most eloquent, and Oikawa wanted to slam his face into the doorway. He settled for collapsing on his couch and screaming into the cushion.
Oikawa knew that his face was red with fury at this point. “Yes, I am serious, Iwa-chan.”
“Well, I guess you guys are winning nationals again this year.”
“That’s not the point,” He snapped back. “I don’t want to win with him on my team, I want to win against his team.”
The clicking on the other line paused. Iwaizumi must have finally put down his video game. “Oikawa.”
“Yes?”
“I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to.”
“Can you be on my side for once, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa groused. He wanted support, not reason.
“This time, I am on your side. Ushijima is a great spiker. Bokuto is another great spiker. You’re an amazing setter. I literally cannot think of anything that could happen that would prevent you from taking nationals again,” Iwaizumi said. “Unless you decide to self-destruct and it ruins your team.”
“If winning was all I cared about, I would’ve gone to Shiratorizawa.”
It was out before Oikawa could stop it, but it was true. If he went to Shiratorizawa, he would’ve had guaranteed victories for at least two years of high school. Still, Oikawa knew that he shouldn’t have said it to Iwaizumi, who had given everything he had during his time on the Aoba Johsai team.
Oikawa usually knew how people were going to react to what he said, but he was so upset about Ushijima’s reappearance in his life that he spoke without thinking to Iwaizumi. There was silence on the line, and while Oikawa liked annoying Iwaizumi, even thrived off of it sometimes, he did not want him to be angry. Especially not now.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Iwaizumi said, finally. His voice was strained. “Like I said a few years ago, Ushijima is a good guy and a good volleyball player. You can either accept him on your team or not. But we both know who would get benched if it came down to that.”
That was a hard pill to swallow, but Oikawa knew it was the truth. “You’re right,” he said quietly, the anger draining from him. “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan.”
“Don’t mention it.” And he meant it. That’s how all their real arguments went. There was no need to rehash fights between two people who had been in each other’s lives for fifteen years.
“I’ll play with Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa said, although the words left a bad taste in his mouth. “I’ll send him perfect tosses, and never speak to him outside of practice. If I see him on campus, I’m going to turn and walk in the other direction.”
“Still the same Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi replied, and there was a touch of affection back in his voice. “Just give the guy a chance.”
“No promises, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa sing-songed, his mood significantly lifted.
Oikawa decided that playing with Ushijima would just be a practice in patience.
✺
Craftiness was something that Oikawa wielded easily, like a master swordsman who used his weapon as an extension of his own arm. It was this craftiness, this manipulative ability, that kept him from speaking one word to Ushijima Wakatoshi for a total of five practices over the next three days.
It also may have had something to do with the fact that Ushijima had incredibly heavy steps that were easy to keep an ear out for and run from immediately. Oikawa preferred to think that their lack of communication was all due to his craftiness, though.
Oikawa had never been so grateful to not be a part of the official starting lineup. Currently, Chuo’s team was still working with last year’s roster as the coaches decided who would replace those that had graduated. There was still a good chance that Oikawa would start that year, and thus have to deal with Ushijima more, so he knew he had to appreciate the peace of setting to the B team, whose spikes still looked powerful enough to severely injure any unsuspecting receivers.
The pettiest part of him wanted to stay on the B team simply to stay away from Ushijima, but he never let anything stand in his way up to the top before, and he wasn’t going to start now. Especially not because of Ushijima.
After a long two and a half hour practice, Oikawa was packing up for a short walk home to the student housing. There were only two full days of summer break left, and he had to pick up his textbooks and prepare for his classes. This all had to occur after he showered at home, as he now avoided the locker rooms after each practice.
Life was simpler before Ushijima decided to come to destroy his life.
“Oi, Oikawa!”
He immediately perked at the sound of his name coming from his head coach. A million thoughts ran through his head - was he being moved up to the starting lineup already? Did he do so good at practice that he was going to be complemented by the best college coach in Japan? Had he already outdone himself that much?
Oikawa plastered on his most flattering smile and turned to where his portly coach was being towered over by an expressionless brick wall.
Ushijima Wakatoshi.
His eye twitched before he could stop it. He took a half second to wipe all traces of irritation from his features as he walked over. “Yes?”
“Ushijima tells me that the two of you are from Miyagi.”
Oikawa kept his gaze on his coach only. He had great control over his features, but his rivalry with Ushijima always brought out his worst expressions. “Oh, he did?”
“And, he said you two played against each other in high school.”
“How sweet of him to reminisce.” The coach quirked a brow at him and Oikawa bit his tongue. “I mean, yes, we did. In middle and high school.”
“You two must know each other well, then. I’ll be entrusting him into your care.”
“I’m sorry?” Oikawa couldn’t keep the shock from slipping onto his face. What was happening?
“Ushijima needs to blend into university life here - both on the team and socially - and being a second year transfer makes him stand out. From what I understand, you’re fairly popular around here.” His coach leveled his gaze at Oikawa. “I can trust you with this, can’t I?”
Oikawa wanted to tell him that he certainly could not trust him with this, that it was a terrible idea and he hated everything about Ushijima. The logical part of him - always scheming, always working - reminded him that the coaches were going to be picking out the new starting lineup that weekend. Being on a team meant making nice with people you may have despised otherwise. He made it work with Kageyama in his last year of middle school. Oikawa was going to have to do it again with Ushijima.
“Of course you can trust me with Ushijima-kun,” Oikawa replied smoothly, his mask sliding up into a smile. “I’ll make sure he feels right at home.”
“Excellent.” His coach clapped him on the shoulder.
“I’ll be in your care,” Ushijima said, speaking to Oikawa for the first time since high school. Oikawa was able to control his eye twitch this time.
All he could respond with was a thin-lipped smile.
✺
“Iwa-chan, Ushiwaka-chan is in love with me!”
“What?”
“He specifically asked the coaches to help him be on the team and a part of campus life, whatever that means.”
“Yeah, and that automatically means he’s in love with you.”
“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm right now.”
“Why are you talking to me, then?” Iwaizumi said gruffly. “Call Bokuto if you want someone to be nice to you.”
“Mean! Bokkun would probably just tell Ushiwaka-chan and the coaches what I said, anyway. He can’t keep a secret.”
“Oh, is that why he told me about the time you tripped over your own feet on the quad in front of the entire team?”
“Iwa-chan!”
✺
Giving Bokuto his phone number may have been the worst decision Oikawa ever made.
“Hey, hey, Oikawa!”
“Hello, Bokkun,” Oikawa said as he filed his nails in front of the small television in his living room. He wasn’t sure when the last time he got up was. The setting sun told him it was the evening, which meant that he had been sitting on his couch for at least a few hours. It was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. “To what do I owe the pleasure of getting a call from you?”
“Pleasure? Man, Oikawa, you’re too nice.” Oikawa suppressed an eye roll. Tone was consistently lost on this poor, sweet soul. “I heard that the coaches paired you up with Ushijima and I’m so jealous!”
Oikawa perked up. “Do you want to take over watching him, then?”
“Nah, I’d never be able to do a better job than you, dude!” Bokuto replied. Oikawa slouched back into his couch, dejected. “And I’d rather hang with both of you, anyway.”
“What?”
“Ushijima’s kinda… uh, hard to read. I want to get to know him better. Since we’re all second years, we should be friends. It’ll be like we used to do with Iwaizumi in the summer! Ushijima can take his place.”
“Ushiwaka-chan will never take Iwa-chan’s place,” Oikawa replied immediately, icy tone strong enough that Bokuto picked it up.
“O-Oh.” Bokuto was quiet for a minute. Oikawa cursed Ushijima’s ability to bring out the worst in him. “Do you not want to hang out with me?”
The wing spiker’s voice lost all of its enthusiasm, and Oikawa knew that this was the beginning of one of his slumps. They had been less frequent since their first few weeks of college, but Oikawa remembered how hard they were to deal with. “Of course I want to. I like you, Bokkun.”
“But you don’t want to go out to dinner tonight?”
Oikawa reminded himself that he had to keep the team unified. If that meant sacrificing a perfectly good Sunday night to Bokuto and Ushijima, so be it. One night wasn’t worth more than his future in volleyball. “I’ll come.”
“Awesome!” Bokuto sounded rejuvenated. “I’ll text you and Ushijima the information.”
“Great,” Oikawa replied flatly. So much for the perfect way to ring in the school year.
✺
Bokuto texted Ushijima and Oikawa together, creating a group chat.
He named it ‘Chuo’s ACES AND SETTER’
Oikawa resisted the urge to vomit.
✺
The izakaya that Bokuto chose wasn’t the worst that Oikawa had ever been to. It was a ten minute walk from his apartment. The restaurant area was incredibly tiny and a sweet-looking old lady greeted him at the door. Ushijima and Bokuto were already seated at a table in the corner. Oikawa fixed his mask up onto his face before they noticed him. Bokuto greeted him heartily and Ushijima solemnly. He wondered what the two of them possibly had in common outside of volleyball.
“Perfect timing, bro! We just got seated, and…” Bokuto filled Oikawa in on what he missed, and Oikawa took this time to quickly assess Ushijima. It was the first time they had been this close without Oikawa desperately trying to avoid conversation. He still looked the same as he did in high school, with the same dull haircut, the same blank expression, and the same severe eyebrows. There was something different in his posture, though, and Oikawa couldn’t place it.
“Thanks, Bokkun,” He settled into the seat next to Bokuto so he could keep an eye on Ushijima at all times. “Have you been here before?”
Bokuto continued with his excitable small talk, filling in what was sure to have been a stiff silence if Ushijima and Oikawa had been left alone together. He was interrupted by the waitress taking their order. When she left he said, “So, I want to get to know the great Ushiwaka!”
Ushijima’s stare was as intense as ever. “What do you want to know?”
Bokuto hummed, bouncing in his seat. “How do you and Oikawa know each other?”
“We’ve played against one another in middle and high school.”
“You’ve seen this guy in a game then.” Bokuto clapped Oikawa on the shoulder. “He’s a monster! It’s like he knows exactly what kind of toss is your favorite and gives it to you at the perfect time.”
“Oh, well…” Oikawa smiled, warming up to Bokuto a bit more. Last year, he would’ve tacked on the fact that he thought his high school setter was still better than Oikawa. It seemed that he was improving.
“I look forward to hitting one of your tosses.” Ushijima fixed him with a level stare and Oikawa was reminded that in an odd way, Ushijima was finally getting what he always wanted. He had Oikawa as his setter.
That left a very bitter taste in Oikawa’s mouth.
“We’ll see if I’m even starting this year,” he sniffed and took a gulp of his iced tea. “I may not even play with you two that much this year.”
“Don’t doubt yourself, bro!” That was rich, coming from Bokuto. He liked to live in extremes - he was either the best or so bad that he didn’t deserve any tosses. “You’re definitely going to start. The third and fourth year setters don’t have anything on you.”
In a strange turn of events, Bokuto was comforting Oikawa like he usually needed to be comforted. Had Oikawa been thrown off his game so much that he was being as moody as Bokuto?
Oikawa forced a smile onto his face. “I hope the coaches feel the same way when they announce the new lineup tomorrow.”
“I have seen them observing you at practice,” Ushijima said. “I would be surprised if they did not pick you.”
“I almost hope they don’t pick me so I can see your surprised face,” Oikawa said, eyes slightly narrowed. “You didn’t even look surprised when Karasuno beat you.”
Bokuto immediately choked on his mouthful of soda and predictably, Ushijima’s expression did not change. The waitress came back with their meal, subverting attention away from Oikawa’s pettiness. Oikawa knew that if Iwaizumi was there, he would have a few new bruises.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
✺
At morning practice on Monday, Oikawa got what he wanted. He was officially the starting setter on Chuo’s volleyball team. Immediately after this was announced, the coaches informed everyone that Ushijima would be starting, too, replacing an extremely disgruntled third year wing spiker.
Somehow, Oikawa looked angrier than the guy that was getting replaced.
Bokuto seemed to have decided that he, Oikawa, and Ushijima were now a matched set. Their outing over the weekend had been strained, but Bokuto did not seem to notice. He spoke excitedly to Oikawa and Ushijima like they were all old friends, regardless of the sour look on Oikawa’s face or the severe furrow of Ushijima’s brow. At every free moment at practice, he grouped them all together. Oikawa grit his teeth and went along with it, aware of the head coach’s eyes on him, ensuring that he kept his word about making sure Ushijima was a part of the team.
Try as he might, Oikawa couldn’t even figure out why the coaches felt that Ushijima needed a babysitter. He was as unapproachable as always, but the rest of the team didn’t seem like they faulted him for it. Whenever he spiked a ball, there were calls of ‘nice kill’ and claps on his back. Ushijima took the complements in stride and moved on. Oikawa knew that he had great observational skills. What was he missing?
“Oikawa.”
Morning practice was over, and Oikawa was in front of the mirrors in the locker room, attempting to sort out his hair before his first day of classes. He needed to look presentable - his fan club had only grown when he had started college. To his surprise, there were even a few men in the club. It was comforting to know that men that were out were being treated nicely by the women in the club.
“Hmm?” Oikawa looked away from his reflection into stern olive eyes. He sighed. “Yes, Ushiwaka-chan?”
“My first class is Economics, in the Business building. Do you know where that building is located?”
“My, my, the great Ushiwaka can’t even be bothered to read a map?” Oikawa huffed and walked towards his bag on the bench. He plopped down and hoped that his barbed comment would drive Ushijima away.
“Where are the maps?”
Oikawa blinked and looked up from where he was lacing his shoes. “...Are you serious?”
Ushijima met his gaze. “I am always serious.”
There were a hundred things Oikawa could have said or done - laugh, walk away without a word, tell the entire team that Ushijima was an idiot - but all of that was trumped by the direction the head coach gave him. His options were either to help Ushijima or risk losing his coveted spot on Japan’s best men’s college team.
As much as Oikawa hated to admit it, the choice was already made for him.
“Fine.” Oikawa stood and wiped off his new jeans. “I’ll help little lost Ushiwaka-chan find his way to class.” He threw his bag over his shoulder and turned his chin up at Ushijima. “But only because the Business building is on the way to my class.”
“Very well,” Ushijima bowed his head slightly to Oikawa and they exited the locker room. Oikawa debated how petty he was going to be - was putting in his earphones too much? He reluctantly decided it was. It would have probably been overkill, anyway. The likelihood of Ushijima starting small talk was very low.
The late summer morning air was refreshing on their walk as Oikawa followed the familiar walkway to the main part of campus, away from the gymnasiums. His summer had been near perfect, so he wasn’t longing for days filled with humidity and late nights with Iwaizumi. There was a buzz of excitement under his skin, both for the prospects a new school year brought and a new volleyball season.
“This is a large campus,” Ushijima said, tearing Oikawa away from his musing.
“Waseda is bigger, right?”
“Yes,” Ushijima replied. “It was very different, compared to Sendai.”
“Well, yeah, Tokyo’s huge and Tokyo universities are huge.” Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes. “If you wanted a smaller city, you should’ve moved to one. Why else would you come here?”
“To play volleyball,” Ushijima said, having not picked up on the sarcasm.
“Other things are important, Ushiwaka-chan. Enjoying where you live, resting, and relaxing is just as important as being on the court,” Oikawa said and immediately felt that he sounded like a less angry Iwaizumi.
“I’ve recently learned that,” Ushijima replied, looking around at the faces of the many students passing them by and the tall buildings.
Oikawa studied Ushijima and noticed the slight change in his posture again. His shoulders seemed less… confident, in a way. Oikawa couldn’t put his finger on it yet, but his observational skills hadn’t let him down yet. With all the time the two were spending together on the court and otherwise, he would find out.
He always did.
“Here we are.” Oikawa gestured in front of himself to the Business building looming over them. “Do you know where your next class is?”
Ushijima pulled out a schedule and peered down at it. “No. It is in the Literature building.”
“Walk back the way we came, and it’s about three buildings down on the left-hand side.” Oikawa was so gracious and giving sometimes. He could have left Ushijima in front of the Business building and been on his merry way by now.
“Thank you, Oikawa-kun,” Ushijima said and bowed fully this time.
“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa grumbled and waved his hand. “Stand up already, people are looking at us.”
“I will see you at practice tonight.” Ushijima stood fully and walked away.
“That’s if you don’t get lost on the way back to the gym,” Oikawa muttered under his breath.
✺
Practicing with Ushijima was not as terrible as Oikawa was expecting. The wing spiker was easy to toss to, and his spikes had only gotten more powerful since Oikawa had last seen him play. Oikawa tried to be irritated at this, but couldn’t bring himself to. Chuo’s team was already incredibly powerful and adding Ushijima to the mix made them nearly unstoppable. This was proven during a practice match against a nearby university. When Chuo had played the same team last year, they lost the first set and won the final two, with both team’s scores over 25 points. With Ushijima on the team, they thoroughly crushed their opponents in two straight sets. The other team didn’t even make it into the 20 point range.
Oikawa was still flying high off of their clear victory when he was changing in the locker room. The team was buzzing with excitement, speaking in loud voices about their high chances of winning nationals for the second year in a row. This is what Oikawa lived for - victory, camaraderie, and the feeling of the fire under his skin bursting to life on the volleyball court. He couldn’t help but join in on his teammates' excited chatter, led by Bokuto, who was regaling the team with how he scored the final point, even though they were all there to see it themselves.
When Bokuto suggested they all go out to eat in celebration of their victory, Oikawa agreed without a second thought. It would be their first team outing of the school year and while his teammates would never live up to the ones he had in his last year at Aoba Johsai, his college teammates held a special place in his heart. Winning nationals was a dream that Oikawa held for a decade, and he was able to achieve it with them. That meant they were important to him, too.
They ended up getting katsudon at a restaurant right outside of campus. It was fairly small, so the team took up the entire restaurant. Their chatter got even more excitable as the upperclassmen treated them to beer, or for people under twenty, soda.
“Man,” Bokuto borderline whined. “Couldn’t this have been in a few weeks? I’ll be old enough to drink, then.”
“Don’t worry, Bokkun.” Oikawa took a large gulp of his frothy beer. It was the cheapest on the menu and tasted horrible, but he would never admit that to Bokuto. “I’ll enjoy my beer enough for the both of us.” Bokuto groaned dramatically, spirits lifted only seconds later as their server brought out another plate of food.
Ushijima settled for a soda, even though he had turned twenty earlier in the month. “Bokuto-kun, when is your birthday?”
Predictably, Oikawa had ended up in a seat at the bar with Ushijima and Bokuto. The rest of the team seemed to have acknowledged them as the second year trio and expected them to be together at all times. While Oikawa would have preferred to choose his company, he didn’t think it was particularly bad - Ushijima was as interesting as drying paint, but his interactions with Bokuto were hilarious. It was becoming increasingly easier for Oikawa to drop a few words and see high-quality entertainment unfold in front of him.
“Yes, please share, Bokkun!” Oikawa winked at him. “When are you going to be on the same level as your senpais, Ushiwaka-chan and I?” Oikawa could feel Ushijima staring at him, and he knew that the poor oaf had taken his words seriously like he always did.
“Oikawa, you’re so mean,” Bokuto groaned. “My birthday is on September 20th.”
“We should celebrate,” Ushijima said. Oikawa blinked. He had not seen that coming - when had Ushijima become a social butterfly?
“We should!” Bokuto exclaimed, spirits fully lifted. “Hey, hey, Ushiwaka - will you drink on my birthday? As a present to me?”
Ushijima paused, one stern brow twitching. Oikawa caught this immediately. “Yes, Ushiwaka-chan, drink with us! What’s the issue?”
Ushijima was quiet, considering. After a moment he replied, “I will have one drink for your birthday.”
Bokuto cheered and Oikawa turned to smirk at Ushijima to find that he was already being watched. Ushijima’s eyes met his for a moment, then flicked away.
As the ruckus only a large group of college students could create sounded in the restaurant, Oikawa couldn’t help the strong feeling of foreboding that settled into his bones.
✺
So, life as a second year college student was as good as Oikawa thought it would be.
The arrival of Ushijima to Chuo hadn’t dented his entire life as Oikawa had originally thought it would. Despite his new responsibility - looking out for (babysitting) the wing spiker - Ushijima hadn’t thrown that much of a wrench into Oikawa’s life. He was blending in with the team well, as they were already accustomed to eccentric players after Bokuto’s arrival the year prior. When Ushijima’s expressions remained deadpan after a service ace, the team seemed to realize that’s just how he was - not that he was rude. Ushijima wasn’t the type to want to socialize like normal college students - drink, party, and suffer through hangovers together - so Oikawa was left to his own devices most of the time. The most that Ushijima requested of him was constantly asking for directions and finally just asking Oikawa to walk him to class.
Oikawa would’ve liked to have thought that one of the best players to ever have come out of Miyagi would have enough intelligence to be able to navigate a college campus, but apparently, that was too much to ask.
“Oikawa! Get over here!”
Oikawa had been tossing for practice spikes with the team’s middle blockers. The head coach was standing on the sidelines next to Ushijima.
He looked pissed.
A pit of dread settled in Oikawa’s stomach as he jogged over. “Yes? Was my form off?”
“No,” The head coach gritted out. “It was perfect. Your plays are always perfect, which made me think you were responsible enough to deal with Ushijima.”
Oikawa looked over at Ushijima, startled and confused, but he was unreadable. “I walk him to class,” Oikawa said carefully. “And we’ve eaten together outside of team activities. Am I missing something?”
Some of the tension eased out of the coach’s shoulders, but his nostrils remained flared. “You’re right. You couldn’t have possibly known about this.” He turned to look at Ushijima. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“I wasn’t aware that I should,” Ushijima responded, entirely unruffled. “He is supposed to deal with my transition onto the team and socially. Oikawa has gone above and beyond in that regard.”
Oikawa nodded, even though he had been half-assing the entire thing. If Ushijima wanted to make him look good in front of the coaches, he wasn’t going to complain. “Is there a different issue?”
“The issue,” Their coach said with such severity that Oikawa thought someone must be dead. “Is that Wakatoshi is four weeks into his college semester and is already failing Economics.”
Holding in laughter was something that Oikawa had never, ever been good at. He could put on masks and facades and that was all well and good, but once someone caught him off guard with something funny, it was over for him.
Unfortunately, this was one of those times.
An ugly snort escaped before Oikawa could stop it and a smile crept onto his face. He trained his expression to neutral as his coach’s eyes flashed. “Ah- I’m sorry, Coach,” Oikawa said, dangerously close to bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was not appropriate-”
“You’re damn right it isn’t,” Their coach growled back and Oikawa was reminded of Iwaizumi. “If he fails his classes, he’s getting kicked off the team. What are you going to do about it?”
“Um…” Oikawa looked at Ushijima. “Get him a tutor?”
“My thoughts exactly.” The coach placed his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “I’ve seen your grades, I’m more than sure you’re up to the task. Good luck, Oikawa.”
Oikawa could only mouth wordlessly at their coach’s back. Seriously? Not only did he need to keep his own grades up while balancing volleyball practice and his social life, but now he needed to maintain Ushijima’s? Was this man-child really not capable of taking care of himself at all?
“I apologize, Oikawa-kun.” Ushijima’s frown was much deeper than usual and there was a distinct furrow between his brows. “I didn’t realize that he would react like this.”
“Me neither,” Oikawa murmured back, stunned. “I guess I’m your Econ tutor now.”
✺
“Call me Oikawa-sensei.”
Ushijima blinked at him.
“C’mon, just try it!”
Ushijima looked down at the textbook in front of him. “I will when you teach me something.”
“You’ve been here for half an hour! You haven’t learned something already?”
“You told me to read the textbook, then you went on your phone for twenty minutes, and then you went to the convenience store to get iced tea for yourself.”
“Well, being in charge of teaching the youth is draining work, you know?”
“I’m a few weeks younger than you.”
“Ah, but mentally, you’re a few years behind, Ushiwaka-chan~”
Ushijima blinked again. “Can you explain the factors of production?”
“Fine, fine.” Oikawa had borrowed Ushijima’s notes a few days before to prepare for the tutoring session. “Get ready to call me Oikawa-sensei for the rest of your life.”
As Ushijima and Oikawa worked through a couple of chapters of the economics textbook, Oikawa realized the extent of Ushijima’s ability outside of volleyball.
Which was to say, he had no other abilities.
“No, no,” Oikawa said and pointed to a paragraph in the textbook for the third time. “That is not why products are manufactured, you brute, read the paragraph-”
This was nothing like studying with Iwaizumi in high school. Both of them had fairly good grades, just different strengths. Oikawa helped Iwaizumi out with his science classes and Iwaizumi had a knack for Japanese literature that saved Oikawa’s grade point average more than once. Their two skill sets combined ensured them higher than average grades. Tutoring Ushijima was very different, and it was grating on Oikawa’s patience. The wing spiker wasn’t being purposefully irritating, which was the worst part. He was just that terrible at reading comprehension.
“Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa said, desperate and at his wits’ end. “Work with me here. We have to catch you up on the last four weeks of class and reading the textbook isn’t helping. What helps you learn faster?”
“Volleyball,” Ushijima said immediately.
Oikawa squinted, preparing himself for the punchline to what was sure to be a joke. After Ushijima stared at him for ten tense seconds, Oikawa realized there was no punchline because it was not a joke. “...Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll see what I can do with that, then.”
With a huff, Oikawa sent Ushijima away to take a break while he worked on a volleyball metaphor at the low table in his apartment. Ushijima stretched his legs, then moved to walk around the small space of Oikawa’s combined living room, kitchen, and dining room. He peered at the only picture on Oikawa’s refrigerator. “You and Iwaizumi are close,” he commented. The picture was one Iwaizumi and Oikawa had taken that summer, at a photobooth. Both their arms were thrown over the other’s shoulders and toothy grins were spread over their faces.
“I’m working here,” Oikawa muttered. Louder, he said, “Yes, obviously, Ushiwaka-chan.”
“Are you still dating him?”
“What?” Oikawa shrieked. He was vaguely aware that he was gaping at Ushijima, heart hammering in his chest.
“I apologize if the question was too personal,” Ushijima said, calm as always. “I assumed that you and Iwaizumi were dating in high school.”
“Of- of course not!” Oikawa was sure he looked absolutely scandalized. He couldn’t even think of anything else to say.
“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” Ushijima told him solemnly.
“I know that,” he snapped back. “Of all people, I know that.”
Ushijima opened his mouth, no doubt to ask another stupid question. He must have thought better of it as he said nothing more and resumed his inspection of Oikawa’s space. Oikawa shook his head and tried to focus back on the notes he was writing. There was no time to deliberate on how many other people thought that he and Iwaizumi were dating, or how many people knew that he was gay-
“That makes sense, Oikawa-kun.”
Oikawa jumped and turned to look where Ushijima was standing over him, reading his notes. “Ushiwaka-chan, do I need to put a bell on you?” He hissed, his heart still racing.
“For what purpose?”
“Nevermind.” Oikawa took a deep breath, hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. “Your break is over. Let’s see if this dumb volleyball analogy will let basic economics get through that thick skull of yours.”
By some miracle, it did seem to help Ushijima. All Oikawa had to do was change out the topic word for ball, setter, or wing spiker, and somehow this helped Ushijima understand at least the foundation of the first few chapters. The rest was going to have to be pure time and effort poured into the subject. Oikawa spent the last fifteen minutes of their time together drafting a study plan so that when the two had another session together, Ushijima will have learned some of the subject on his own.
“Make sure you go to office hours,” Oikawa told him, finger wagging. “I don’t want all my hard work and effort to go to waste. It's better for the professor to know that you’re struggling so she doesn’t think your low scores are due to a lack of effort or interest in her class.”
Ushijima nodded seriously. “I will attend every time I can.”
Oikawa felt a flash of pity for the teacher. “Only if you have specific questions for her, okay? Don’t just overwhelm her with your presence like always.”
“Like always?”
“You know.” Oikawa waved his hand flippantly. “Your intense volleyball presence. It follows you everywhere.”
“...It does?”
Ushijima was giving him a curious glance. Oikawa realized he was being sincere and looked at him like he was crazy. “Well, yeah. Never smiling doesn’t help, either.”
“I smile when necessary,” Ushijima informed him.
“Sure, sure.” Oikawa didn’t care to argue and while he was feeling worn down from two hours of tutoring, he knew he had his own homework to complete. “Let’s wrap this up, okay?”
Ushijima gathered his things and strode towards the door with Oikawa in tow. Once in the doorway, he turned to Oikawa and said, “Thank you, Oikawa-sensei.”
Oikawa blinked, shocked. Then a smug smile spread over his face. “Anything for my precious student~”
Ushijima simply nodded back. Oikawa watched him walk down the hall from the doorway, his eyes drawn to the broad line of his shoulders, tapering down into strong hips-
Oikawa snapped his eyes away and slammed his front door shut. This was something he had to take to his grave; this awful, terrible secret would surely haunt him for the rest of his life.
He had been checking out Ushijima.