Work Text:
7 things Sugawara Koushi notices about Oikawa Tooru:
1.
Koushi's university is famous for its first-rate volleyball team, and so it is with no measure of surprise that he sees Oikawa Tooru on the first day of volleyball club tryouts, mingling with prospective newcomers and seniors alike. Oikawa’s the same old: still the centre of attention, assured, impossibly charming. Briefly, Koushi contemplates saying hello and risking a blank stare from Oikawa, before deciding against it. Realistically speaking, there’s a good chance that Koushi might not even make the team.
He needn’t have bothered, though; Oikawa spots him from a few metres away, and it takes less than a split second for a flicker of recognition to cross his face. He starts to make his way towards Koushi.
(Oikawa still remembers Spring High, then. Koushi is awash with an odd sense of relief.)
'If it isn't Mr. Refreshing,' Oikawa says, breezily, as if there is nothing wrong with cooking up a bizarre nickname for an almost-stranger and then addressing them with said nickname over their first formal meeting. To an outsider it might even seem as though Oikawa is greeting an old friend, but Koushi picks up on the taunting lilt of his voice, understands that this is someone spoiling for – something. A challenge, perhaps. For all his effusiveness Oikawa has never been an easy opponent to read.
'Nice to meet you,' Koushi replies without missing a beat, in a way that suggests the statement is more than mere pleasantry. Oikawa gets it, because the amused curve of his mouth disappears. When they shake hands Oikawa's palms are pleasantly warm.
2.
Three months is how long it takes for Koushi to settle comfortably into the routine of university life - which, really, is no different from a glorified version of high school. It’s always the same humdrum existence, the same old: lectures, tutorials, volleyball practice, rinse and repeat, throw in a couple of parties here and there. Or maybe he’s just boring.
‘Well, not everyone here is a seventy year old soul trapped in a twenty year old's body,’ Oikawa tells him from across the library table, nose scrunching up a little. Koushi considers picking up a pencil and throwing it in his face, before deciding against it. Oikawa’s good at dodging these things – Iwaizumi’s trained him well, Koushi thinks darkly – and anyway, Koushi would much rather enjoy the quiet peace of Oikawa pattering away at his keyboard. It’s been raining the past few days, but the sun will be out soon, and there’s always time for a stroll before dinner.
And if all if this is unbearably mundane – Koushi has never claimed to be anything else.
3.
For better or for worse, Oikawa, too, has become part of his routine. It’s a tentative friendship, built more upon convenience and close proximity than anything else: common classes, volleyball practice, the fact that their dormitories are just two floors apart.
Here’s the thing: with his fans Oikawa is amiable and always charismatic, but his actions are often tinged with that of a polite disinterest, his smile distant. Around his friends, however, Oikawa is quicker to drop his guard, although he never does so completely. Sometimes Koushi wonders if the privilege belongs to Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi alone, but mostly Koushi is content with: takeaway pizza on Friday nights, study sessions in the school library, and midnight runs to the ramen stand.
It matters little, then, if Koushi should be yet another moth drawn to the light.
4.
'You're into guys, aren’t you,' Koushi tells Oikawa one day after practice, more statement than anything else, and pretends not to see it when Oikawa flinches in a manner reminiscent of a cornered animal.
'How'd you know,' Oikawa asks, voice so carefully level that it betrays him.
'Intuition,' Koushi says, which is a shitty response, he knows. He doesn't say because I am, too; better to half-lie, Koushi thinks, than to give Oikawa the wrong idea.
5.
Oikawa starts to grow out his hair in their second semester of uni. Koushi doesn't realise it until training one day, when they're practising stretches together and Koushi's looking down at the nape of Oikawa's neck; at the thick, brown curls plastered against it.
'You should tie your hair up,' Koushi says, before he can stop himself.
At this Oikawa turns to look at him, lips curled in mild amusement. 'Is Mr. I-wear-plaid-more-often-than-is-socially-acceptable dispensing me fashion advice?'
'I was being helpful, no need to be rude,' Koushi huffs, with no real heat behind his syllables. Oikawa chuckles before looking away, thoughtful. Koushi almost forgets about the exchange, until Oikawa actually succeeds in growing his hair beyond his shoulders over the next few months. Predictably, the fangirls go crazy over it. If Koushi were the presumptuous sort he might've attributed Oikawa's recent surge of fame to himself, but the truth is that with a face as pretty as Oikawa's, nothing short of a rainbow-coloured mohawk would've made him look bad.
Funnily enough, Oikawa returns to uni the next term with short hair. If Koushi is curious he doesn't ask why; Oikawa, on his part, offers no explanation.
6.
Oikawa makes it to their team's starting line-up in their second year of uni. (Koushi doesn't. But because this, too, is an inevitability, Koushi harbours no jealousy.)
University Oikawa is still a formidable player, but his presence on the court nowadays seems muted, more pared down. There are still fangirls – and the occasional fanboy – crowding the spectators stand, of course, still magazine interviewers cobbling for his attention. (If anything, Oikawa has gotten even more skilled at throwing out a manner of cheesy one-liners that bear no repeating.) And yet – where Oikawa used to be the first person you’d lay your eyes on when you turned to the court, it now takes Koushi a little more effort to identify him amongst the players scrambling for the ball. Perhaps this is for the better – what good is a conspicuous setter, if he cannot mould his style to suit his teammates’?
The point is, sometimes, Koushi wonders if this shrinking is a deliberate choice on Oikawa's part. He wonders if Oikawa's strange brand of reticence comes with a story behind it. He knows better than to ask.
7.
Oikawa calls to tell him - one day before their team is due to play their long anticipated match against a rival uni- that he's injured his knee; Koushi is to take his place. Koushi's heart sinks when he puts down the phone, not out of fear, but because he knows, deep down, that something doesn't tally. Ever since Oikawa made it to the starting line-up, he's been pushing Koushi to work harder, always asking him out for practice and extra trainings. The day before, he'd passed Koushi a stack of notes detailing the strengths and weaknesses of all their teammates, with the gravity of a dying man relaying his final wish. When Koushi makes his way to Oikawa's house he finds Oikawa in the backyard, playing with his little cousin. Tossing the volleyball around, running.
and 1 thing he doesn't:
When Koushi grabs Oikawa by his arm, digs his nails into soft flesh and asks, 'why are you doing all this', chokes out, 'is this pity', Oikawa smiles, face twisting into what is either anguish or a damn good pretence of it, and does not say a single word.
"I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.
It meant I loved."
LOUISE GLUCK, FIRST MEMORY