Archive of Our Own

Takeru probably shouldn’t have eavesdropped on his uncle’s conversation, but curiosity got the best of him.

“So, you’ve got a thing for someone from Karasuno, huh, Oikawa?” a voice said, and Takeru pressed himself against the door, straining to hear.

“Yeah. Black hair, blue eyes. You know who I mean,” his uncle replied.

Takeru didn’t wait long enough. If he had just stayed a few more seconds, he would’ve heard Oikawa add ‘Shimizu-san’ at the end. 

But his mind immediately jumped to the only person he knew with those features—the grumpy guy who was always clashing with his uncle.

───── ♥ ─────

So that’s the guy. Takeru thought, hidden behind the bushes that faced the Karasuno court. He’d been there for an entire hour, carefully observing. Three days of planning had led him here, and he was sure his strategy was foolproof. His mom always said he was too smart for his age and a bit of a chatterbox; he planned to use both to his advantage.

“He’s nothing special…” Takeru muttered as the boy with black hair and blue eyes finally walked through the school gates. He didn’t question his uncle’s tastes, though; Takeru didn’t feel mature enough to understand what made people attracted to each other.

Still, it made sense that this was the one. His mom had once explained to him, when a girl from school used to poke him and call him silly names, that she probably had a crush on Takeru. People, she said, sometimes show affection by teasing, even if it wasn’t the most mature way to do it. 

Maturity wasn’t his uncle’s strong suit and Takeru had seen firsthand just how much Oikawa loved messing with this guy. It had to be love, there was no other way to explain it.

  ───── ♥ ─────

There were sounds coming from the bushes, followed by a clatter from the trash cans. A shadow moved across the alley. The shuffling of feet on the sidewalk. Tobio was sure he was being followed. He glanced at his reflection in a shop window, watching for the perfect moment.

"Gotcha!"

Takeru shouted just as Tobio appeared behind him, lifting him effortlessly by the top handle of his backpack. His little feet dangled in the air.

"Why are you following me?" Tobio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Put me down!" Takeru yelled, squirming. "I’m not following you!"

Tobio leaned in, his smile both menacing and mischievous.

"Then what are you doing here, kid?"

Takeru swallowed hard, his fists clenched. Despite the intimidating situation, he stood his ground.

"I’m just a fan," he muttered, trying to sound casual.

"A fan?"

"Kageyama Tobio. First-year. Setter for Karasuno. The king of the court. Former student of Kitakawa Daiichi. A true genius. That’s you, right?"

The flattery hit Tobio’s ego like a sharp jab. His chest puffed out involuntarily, and he looked away, trying to hide his growing pride.

“I guess so,” he murmured, reluctant to admit it but clearly pleased. “What do you want?”

Takeru sighed in relief when his feet finally touched the ground again.

“I want you to come to my house and give me volleyball lessons,” he said with surprising confidence. “Teach me how to serve. Your serves are the best.”

“Mine?” Tobio blinked, surprised. He knew he wasn’t even close to being in the top three servers in the region; even his pride wouldn’t let him ignore that. If anyone deserved praise, it was Oikawa-san…

Wait.

"Hey, I know you," Tobio said, his eyes widening. "You're his nephew. Oikawa-san’s nephew. We met the other day."

“Yeah, that’s me.” Takeru shrugged nonchalantly.

“Ask your uncle for these lessons, his serves are way better than mine. And here I am, wasting my time…” Tobio grumbled, turning his back and muttering under his breath like a disgruntled old man.

“Oh, so that’s why they say never meet your heroes,” Takeru quipped. “They’re all so pathetic. So what if Oikawa is my uncle? Can’t I dream of being a future Karasuno player? You’re quick to admit my uncle is better than you. How frustrating!”

Takeru sighed dramatically, clicking his tongue as if he was deeply disappointed.

“Once again, children’s dreams are shattered. My uncle was right: you’re weak and stupid. I thought this would be your chance to prove him wrong, but…”

Tobio froze, his expression darkening, a vein pulsing dangerously on his forehead.

“That bastard,” Tobio muttered, his teeth gritted. “What’s your address?”

Takeru’s grin spread wider, proud of himself, and he handed Tobio a piece of paper.

“I want lessons three times a week for two months.”

“That’s a lot,” Tobio grumbled. “I should charge for this.”

“Okay, okay.” Takeru extended his small hand toward Tobio. “I don’t have money to pay you, but if you show up for all the lessons, no matter what, I’ll reward you with a really embarrassing photo of my uncle. How about that?”

Tobio immediately grabbed Takeru’s hand, shaking it firmly.

“Deal.”

───── ♥ ─────

Oikawa was in a great mood. There was no particular reason for it. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and everything seemed to be working together to make his day a little brighter.

So, when he arrived home, the last thing he expected was the scene that greeted him.

“What on earth is going on here?” he nearly shrieked, his voice reaching a pitch high enough to send birds scattering.

His eyes were wide with disbelief as he stared at the sight unfolding in the yard. The shock on his face was a mix of horror and confusion, his brows furrowed so tightly they nearly cast a shadow.

“I’m learning how to serve,” Takeru explained, his voice dripping with innocence.

“With him?” Oikawa’s voice somehow went even higher.

“He came to me,” Tobio muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just trying to help.”

Oikawa fixed Tobio with a look that was somewhere between suspicion and annoyance. Without saying another word, he turned back to Takeru.

“You’re coming with me, troublemaker,” Oikawa said, tugging his nephew toward the house.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Takeru shot back, immediately defensive. “Mom likes him.”

“You introduced him to her? You little—” Oikawa paused to take a steadying breath, crouching down to meet Takeru’s eyes. “What are you up to, huh? Out with it. I know you.”

Takeru clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels, trying to look innocent.

“Nothing, Uncle. Promise,” he said, fingers crossed behind his back. He figured his mom would forgive this little fib if it kept Oikawa happy.

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“I just want to learn how to serve,” Takeru said.

“But I already teach you that! I’ve taken you to the gym plenty of times. Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Because now you’re always too busy!” Takeru gave him a little shove and darted back toward the yard.

And it wasn’t a lie. Oikawa used to take him out every week to play volleyball, to hang out. But now, things had changed. Maybe once every couple of months, if that. So Takeru had gotten a bit craftier, testing his limits to get his uncle’s attention.

Lately, though, even that hadn’t been working. So he decided to switch things up. Maybe if he did something bold—something that would really grab Oikawa’s attention, something that might make him happy—it would work. He’d thought about it a lot since the day Oikawa brought friends over and shut him out, telling him to play in the yard because, “this conversation isn’t for kids.”

That was also the day he overheard about a blue-eyed, dark-haired person from Karasuno.

Kageyama Tobio was his last hope, and Takeru couldn’t afford to mess this up.

He returned to the yard.

“Let’s get back to the lesson,” he said to Tobio. “I’ll do my best.”

  ───── ♥ ─────

After just an hour of practice, Takeru had already picked up on a few things:

First, his uncle had always been a softer coach; strict, but with a gentle edge.

Second, Tobio was much harder to please. He rarely gave praise, but there was a certain intensity about him that made Takeru want to earn his approval.

And third, there was definitely something going on between Tobio and his uncle. Takeru could see it—love was definitely mutual.

He realized it every time Tobio glanced toward the window, where Oikawa was sitting, pretending to casually sip his coffee. It was clear that his uncle was too proud to admit he was watching their practice, so every time Tobio looked over, Oikawa would quickly avert his gaze.

Takeru noticed his uncle making faces as if Tobio was doing something wrong, but Oikawa never intervened.

For most of the session, Tobio seemed more focused on Oikawa than on his so-called student. Physically, he was right there with Takeru, but his attention—his every move—seemed tuned to Oikawa, as if he were waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.

Takeru might’ve been annoyed by the lack of attention, if it hadn’t been part of his plan all along.

“See you Wednesday,” he said, sticking out his hand.

Tobio’s mouth twitched in a small smile. 

Takeru had this mischievous spark.

Just like his uncle, he thought, shaking the hand offered to him.

Before leaving, Tobio cast one last glance toward the window. Oikawa had spent nearly an hour nursing his coffee, but now he was gone. 

Something inside Tobio tightened.

Maybe it was frustration.

  ───── ♥ ─────

The next month, Tobio and Takeru’s routine remained almost the same. Tobio arrived at the usual time, dropped his bag, and dove straight into training with Takeru, who, by now, was starting to forget his initial plan altogether.

After the first week, Tobio gave Takeru a sincere compliment. Since then, the boy seemed even more determined to give his best. What had once been a stiff, formal dynamic between them was gradually becoming more natural.

Oikawa also stuck to his usual routine. He arrived about 20 minutes after Tobio, walked through the gates without a word, and made his way to his usual spot by the window.

There, he’d sit with his coffee, watching the training from a distance. He’d remain lost in his thoughts for about an hour, leaving just before Tobio.

One day, Takeru showed up with red, swollen eyes, clearly upset. Tobio paused the training, his concern evident. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Takeru hesitated before admitting he’d had a fight with his friends at school and was feeling lonely. Instead of lecturing him, Tobio simply suggested, “Let’s go grab ice cream at the shop next door.”

The offer was like a weight lifting off Takeru’s shoulders. He gave Tobio a look of gratitude.

Tobio had always found it hard to connect with others, especially kids, but with Takeru, the stiffness was starting to fade. They were forming a genuine bond, and 

Tobio realized that maybe he wasn’t just good at playing volleyball; maybe, just maybe, he was good at teaching too.

One afternoon, as they crossed the gate together, each holding a grocery bag and ice cream, Oikawa was at the window, watching them from a distance.

Takeru, mouth full of chocolate, burst out laughing as Tobio made a face after his ice cream fell to the ground.

Takeru snatched the bag Tobio had dropped and, with a grin, exchanged a few words of farewell that Oikawa couldn’t quite hear. But just before they parted ways, something unexpected happened.

Takeru wrapped his arms around Tobio’s waist in a hug so sincere that Tobio froze, momentarily caught off guard. Slowly, he turned to face the boy.

“Thanks,” Takeru said, flashing a smile that reached his eyes. “I had a lot of fun. You’re a good friend... coach.”

A good friend?

Tobio, who had never heard such words from anyone, stood still for a moment, still stunned by the sincerity of the gesture. Slowly, almost instinctively, he reached up and ruffled Takeru’s spiky hair.

“You’re a good kid, Takeru-kun.”

From the window above, Oikawa watched the scene unfold, his gaze focused and intense, his coffee forgotten as he observed the two.

───── ♥ ─────

The following week, everything changed. As soon as Tobio stepped into the backyard, he was greeted by a smiling Oikawa, spinning a volleyball on his fingertip.

"Good afternoon, Tobio-chan," Oikawa said, stopping the ball and tucking it under his arm. "I can’t let you teach my dear nephew the wrong moves. From now on, I’ll be supervising his training. After all, he insists you're the one he wants teaching him."

Takeru listened intently, his gaze alternating between the two.

"No way," Tobio replied, grabbing his bag. "I’m leaving."

"Hey!" Takeru called out. "Remember when I asked you to train me? You’ll get paid for showing up to practice, no matter what."

Takeru dramatically threw himself onto the ground.

"My hero is a man of empty promises," he sighed. "Maybe I’ll become a delinquent because of this."

Even for Takeru, the blackmail felt cheap, but Tobio hesitated, his foot hovering in mid-air, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Come on, Tobio-chan. I already know you play poorly," Oikawa teased. "It’s not like your mistakes surprise me."

"I don’t play poorly," Tobio shot back, tossing his bag onto the ground again.

"Then why are you teaching my nephew ineffective serves?" Oikawa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tobio frowned, feeling his insecurities surface.

"But they are effective," he insisted.

At least, that’s what he liked to think. A small part of him wondered, though. This was his first time teaching a child, and Takeru had potential. He was skilled. In fact, Tobio had spent the previous night jotting down notes and refining his training strategy.

Just because you know how to do something doesn’t mean you know how to teach it. He needed to be more instructive and communicate better with Takeru.

His admiration for Ukai grew every day. Teaching was almost as thrilling as playing.

Maybe, after retiring, he could focus on coaching. But that was still too far off to think about.

"Your serves might seem effective, but there’s plenty of room for improvement. Your posture, strength, timing, and speed all need work," Oikawa listed, counting off on his fingers.

"I’m doing my best to teach Takeru properly," Tobio murmured, his voice dropping at the last part. "He’s a good kid... I like him."

Oikawa grimaced, swallowing a bit of pride that tasted bitter.

"I can tell. That’s why I can’t let you keep making mistakes." He tossed the ball to Tobio. "Start the lesson. I’ll be sitting right over there."

Tobio glared at him, then glanced toward the white chair Oikawa pointed to in the yard.

Irritated, and a bit anxious, Tobio started the lesson. Takeru got into position, and Tobio handed him the ball, demonstrating the serve stance. But just as he raised his hand, a shout startled him.

"Wrong!" Oikawa yelled.

Are you fucking kidding me? Tobio cursed mentally. The bastard hadn’t even settled into the chair yet.

"What?" Tobio rolled his eyes. "What did I do wrong?"

"Figure it out," Oikawa replied, crossing his legs and reclining in the chair. "I’m not your coach."

"Asshole," Tobio muttered under his breath.

"Asshole," Takeru echoed, pointing at Oikawa and laughing.

"What? Are you teaching him swear words? My sister will kill me."

"Asshole, asshole, asshole," Takeru chanted repeatedly, jumping up and pointing at Oikawa.

Panicked, Oikawa jumped to his feet and quickly covered Takeru's mouth with his hand.

"You can’t say that, you little rascal," he scolded, his tone light and playful—one Tobio had never heard from him before.

Takeru grinned. Once again, his antics drew Oikawa’s attention. It was fun, and it made him feel less lonely.

"I won’t stop saying it unless you teach us properly," Takeru insisted. "If our serves are wrong, you need to fix them. Right, Tobio-chan?"

"Don’t call me that, brat," Tobio grimaced.

Oikawa picked up the ball from the grass, his expression shifting slightly.

"Turn your body back slightly before starting your serve. That’ll create a rotation that will increase the strength of your hit."

Tobio flinched when Oikawa’s hands rested on his waist. He kicked his heel lightly. "Adjust that foot," Oikawa said.

Suddenly, Takeru felt as though he’d become invisible. Oikawa and Tobio seemed to forget he was even there. Oikawa continued guiding Tobio through the movements.

After a heated discussion about concepts Takeru couldn’t quite grasp, they resorted to using terms he barely understood, occasionally pulling out paper and pen to illustrate where the ball might land, depending on their positioning.

"You need to watch it as you lift," Oikawa explained. "That’ll help you gauge the strength and angle of your serve."

The two sat on the grass side by side, absorbed in their own world. Oikawa’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed together as he slid the pen across the paper, fully focused on organizing his thoughts.

Unlike when he taught Takeru, Oikawa wasn’t as gentle with Tobio. He snapped at him constantly, with teasing remarks and, at times, sharp words. But Takeru knew his uncle well. He was happy.

“It’s getting dark,” a feminine voice interrupted the conversation. “You two, come for dinner.”

Tobio jumped. A beautiful woman with red-framed glasses and long, wavy hair appeared at the window above them.

“Fuck, it’s already eight,” Oikawa cursed as he checked his phone. “How did time fly by like that?”

“Watch your language, Tooru!” the woman scolded. “Takeru’s calling for you. He wants Tobio to join us.”

Tobio stood up, startled. “No, no. Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly. “I really should head home—”

“You should stay,” Oikawa’s voice was firm and serious. “Takeru likes you, and my sister makes amazing curry.”

Oikawa looked away. “Don’t worry, I’ll grab my stuff and sleep at Hajime’s.”

“No,” Takeru’s mom called from above. “I made plenty of food. You’re staying too, Tooru.”

───── ♥ ─────

The dinner was nothing like Tobio had imagined. Oikawa’s sister was incredibly pleasant, effortlessly chatting about a variety of topics, and her intelligence was apparent. She mentioned that her husband was away on a work trip for three months, and their parents had asked Oikawa to stay with her and Takeru so she wouldn’t feel so lonely. 

“He’s great company. A wonderful little brother,” she said, playfully pinching Oikawa’s cheeks.

The Aoba Johsai setter turned bright red and swatted her hand away. “Stop it, Nee-san. I’m trying to eat.”

“He pretends to be tough, but he’s as soft as a souffle pancake,” she teased with a grin, adjusting her glasses.

Tobio stifled a laugh.

“Since we were kids, Tooru’s been the biggest crybaby of us all— and the most spoiled by our parents,” she added, enjoying the sight of Oikawa squirming.

The rest of dinner passed in a lively blur, with his sister finding endless ways to make Oikawa blush in every shade imaginable. Tobio wondered if it was possible to die from sheer embarrassment, as Oikawa looked on the verge of doing just that.

“You’re staying over tonight, right?” Takeru asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “You can sleep with me and Uncle.”

Tobio’s eyes widened, desperately scrambling for a polite way to decline. His only other option was to flee so fast he’d leave a cartoonish outline on the wall.

“Surely, you wouldn’t deny my son that, would you?” the woman said, approaching him and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. “Tooru will lend you one of his pajamas, and he’ll help Takeru take a bath. Then, you can take one too.”

She yawned widely, and only then did Tobio notice the dark circles under her eyes. “I need some rest. Good night, boys.”

With that, she shuffled away in her slippers, leaving Tobio to sink deeper into his growing despair.

───── ♥ ─────

Holy shit, how the hell did he end up in this situation?

Tobio’s face froze, caught between embarrassment and disbelief, as he stepped out of the bathroom. Slowly, he opened the door. Takeru was already asleep on the futon, and Oikawa stood by the drawers, wearing nothing but boxers, rummaging through them.

"Here. Take this pajama. It should fit." Oikawa tossed the item to Tobio without even glancing at him.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” Tobio asked, hesitant.

“I sleep like this. What’s the problem?” Oikawa shot back, shrugging as if it were nothing. “I’m not changing how I sleep just because you're here.”

Without further explanation, he turned to the mirror, applied some makeup around his eyes, and dabbed something on his cheeks, blending it into his skin. Afterward, he shoved Takeru aside and lay down, pulling the blanket over them both.

Tobio reluctantly slipped into the pajamas. They were a bit loose, but that was to be expected—Oikawa was taller after all. He lay down, as close to the edge of the futon as possible, with Takeru nestled between them, softly snoring.

“Turn off the light, idiot,” Oikawa muttered, his back turned to Tobio. The bedside lamp was still on.

Tobio shifted on the futon, the movement disturbing Takeru’s sleep.

“Tobio-chan?” Takeru mumbled, reaching out and brushing his hand across the blanket.

“I told you not to call me that, kid,” Tobio grumbled as he sat up and turned off the lamp.

“Thanks for staying,” Takeru said sleepily. “You’re really nice, Uncle Tobio.”

“Eeeh!” Both Tobio and Oikawa exclaimed in unison.

“ Uncle? I’m not that old,” Tobio replied quickly.

Oh no. That wasn’t what he meant. It wasn’t about age. Takeru could already picture Tobio as part of the family. And that was possible because the plan was working—

Wait. The plan!

Suddenly, Takeru sat up on the futon.

“I want my mommy!” he whined, pretending to cry. “I want my mom, Uncle Tooru. I want her now!”

“What’s this all of a sudden?” Oikawa asked, sitting up and running a hand through Takeru’s hair.

“I want to sleep with Mommy. I miss Daddy. I want to sleep with both of them.”

“Goodness, Takeru. You’ve been acting strange lately. Do you want me to take you to them?” Oikawa began to move, but Takeru jumped up and headed for the door.

“I’ll go see Mommy myself. Sorry, Tobio-chan. Now you can have more space to sleep. Sleep well.” He opened the door, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he left.

“That kid!” Oikawa grumbled, collapsing back into the futon and burying his face in the blanket.

Tobio shifted as far as he could to the edge, almost falling off the futon. Now, without Takeru between them, the situation felt... strange. His heart raced involuntarily.

“You don’t have to huddle in the corner,” Oikawa murmured without turning around. "There's plenty of space. Just keep a respectable distance, and that’ll do. My sister would kill me if I let our guest sleep on the unpolished wood. You’d end up all scratched up."

Tobio hesitated before adjusting himself, inching a little closer. He could feel Oikawa’s warmth even with a respectful gap between them.

Without meaning to, their feet brushed against each other. Both of them jolted in surprise.

“Geez, this is so fucking weird,” Oikawa sighed, tension in his voice.

Tobio shook his head, feeling the coolness of the pillow against his cheek. “It’s strange, but Takeru seemed happy during dinner.”

“Yeah.” Oikawa’s voice softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “He was happy.”

“Still, it was my fault,” Tobio muttered. “I should’ve kept track of the time. But I don’t know... I just…”

“You just?” Oikawa prompted, his voice a bit softer now.

Tobio curled up a bit. “I just lost track of time. Talking to you made me forget everything. If your sister hadn’t interrupted, I could’ve listened to you talk about volleyball for days.”

“Days?” Oikawa held his breath, feeling his heart race at the unexpected honesty in Tobio’s words. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Oikawa’s voice shifted to a playful, almost smug tone. “But I know my knowledge must’ve impressed you. I’m glad I could use my talents to help the less fortunate.”

Tobio clenched his jaw, the familiar vein in his temple throbbing to life. Oikawa was such an arrogant bastard, but still, Tobio couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

“Anyway, thanks,” Tobio muttered into the pillow. “You’d make a great coach. I learned a lot this afternoon.”

There was a brief pause before Tobio spoke again.

“I’ve always wanted that, you know?” He said quietly, almost shyly. “For you to teach me how to serve. Ever since the Kitagawa Daiichi days. Do you remember?”

A heavy silence settled between them.

“I don’t remember,” Oikawa lied.

Tobio shifted onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“But I remember,” he said, his voice soft but certain. "I remember everything about you, Oikawa-san."

He lifted his hand, gazing through his fingers as if the empty spaces between them were giving shape to memories he could never forget.

“I remember the way you touched the ball, how you orchestrated your sets, and the brilliant strategies you came up with for every match.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, his gaze unfocused.

“I remember your smile. How you got along with everyone. The way you used to file your nails before every game. I wanted to be just like you.”

Tobio had always found it hard to express his feelings, but when it came to Oikawa, it was different. It felt easy. He wasn’t embarrassed about being persistent, about seeming needy or begging.

“It’s really sad that you hate me,” Tobio muttered, lowering his hand and curling up.

“I don’t hate you.”

Tobio’s heart skipped a beat, thudding so fast it felt like it was rising up to his throat, choking him from speaking.

“What did you just say?”

“I don’t hate you, okay?” Oikawa repeated, sounding irritated.

Adrenaline rushed through Tobio, making his thoughts scatter. His pulse raced, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders and spun him around, the action pulling them impossibly close.

“So, does that mean you like me? Does that mean we can be friends?” 

In that instant, Tobio realized it might’ve been too much. Oikawa’s gaze flickered over him—his eyes trailing down, processing their position. 

Oikawa was wearing nothing but his boxers, and Tobio was almost on top of him, his hands gripping Oikawa's shoulders. 

The realization of how close their bodies were sent a shiver down Tobio’s spine, his eyes widening as the tension in the air thickened.

That brief moment of surprise was all Oikawa needed. With a sudden movement, he grabbed Tobio's wrists, yanking him effortlessly, flipping him over, and pinning him down to the futon.

"No," Oikawa breathed, his body pressing into Tobio's, the weight of him warm and firm. "That doesn't mean I like you."

Tobio's heart pounded faster, his pulse throbbing in his ears. 

Oikawa's body was heavy on top of him, but Tobio could feel every inch of him. He felt the hardness of Oikawa's chest against his own, the heat radiating from him, his thighs brushing against Tobio's.

Oikawa leaned in, his lips just a breath away, and Tobio's chest tightened in anticipation. Their noses brushed, and Tobio's breath hitched. But Oikawa pulled back, his lips now hovering near Tobio's ear, sending a shiver through his body.

"And to answer your other question," Oikawa's voice was low, teasing, almost predatory. "No, that doesn't mean we can be friends either. 

Tobio's body went rigid at the words and the subtle brushing of their hips.

“Because you and I aren't meant to be friends, Tobio-chan," Oikawa whispered, his breath warm against the curve of Tobio's neck.

Without another word, Oikawa casually shifted, his body leaving Tobio's for a moment, but the loss of contact made Tobio crave it even more. Oikawa pulled the blanket over his head, as if nothing had happened.

"Listen, Tobio," Oikawa's voice was muffled under the blanket. "I want you to stay away from my nephew, from my family… from me. Tomorrow, you're ending these training sessions, no matter how much he argues.”

Tobio swallowed hard, feeling a tight knot in his chest. “Alright. I’ll do it. He’s your family, after all.”

───── ♥ ─────

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Oikawa’s sister said as they stood outside Takeru’s room. The boy had been in bed for three days, clinging to his mom after crying his heart out.

Oikawa stepped into the room, but his sister quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Tooru, please… be kind to him. He told me everything. He heard you talking to your friends. All he wanted was to make his uncle happy.”

Oikawa nodded. “Don’t worry, Nee-san. I’ll handle it.”

He walked over to Takeru, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can we talk, you little rascal?”

“No!” Takeru mumbled into his pillow, his voice thick with tears. “I hate you. I hate you.”

“Don’t say that. I never meant to hurt you.” Oikawa sighed. “I’m sorry, Takeru.”

Takeru stayed still.

“Why did you tell him to stop being my friend? I know it was you. Tobio-chan liked teaching me. He even told me so.”

“Oh, so you really wanted Tobio around?” Oikawa asked, intrigued. “Your mom said you were just using him for some sort of plan. Care to tell me what that was?”

Takeru swallowed, his eyes wide. “I don’t want to,” he murmured.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just let Tobio know he was being used.”

Takeru shot up. “That’s not true! He’s my friend!” he yelled, his voice softening. “Maybe at first, he was part of the plan… but now he’s my friend. We even went for ice cream together.”

Oikawa fought back a smile. Just a few weeks with Tobio, and Takeru was already so attached that a hint of jealousy crept in.

“So, what was your plan? I knew something was going on.”

Reluctantly, Takeru started explaining, but halfway through, his voice cracked, and he started crying again.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Tooru. I didn’t mean to do anything bad. I just wanted to see you happy.”

He wiped his tears, looking down as he clung to his uncle, embarrassed.

“I don’t hate you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Oikawa gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry too for not being around more. Things have been tough with practice since they took away our day off.”

He pulled back slightly to look at Takeru’s face.

“You mean a lot to me, Takeru. How about you start visiting me at practice every week? I’ll ask your mom to bring you, and we can head home together. Maybe stop by the park or get some ice cream.”

“Can Tobio-chan come too?”

Oikawa almost choked. “I’m not sure Tobio would agree to that… Takeru, about what you overheard, I wasn’t actually talking about Tob—”

“Why wouldn’t he come?” Takeru interrupted. “He likes you.”

“He… likes me?” Oikawa’s voice rose slightly. “Did he say that? What did he say?”

“Mom said you’re happy when you’re with someone you love, like nothing else matters. You were happy with him, and he was happy with you. Just like Mom and Dad when they're together. My plan worked, Uncle. You should go after him..”

Oikawa sighed deeply. How could he explain to Takeru that he had it all wrong?

“Come on,” he held out his hand. “Let’s go find your mom and see if Tobio would like to join us sometime. Then you can ask him if he’d still be up for teaching you again.”

───── ♥ ─────

They stood outside Karasuno, Takeru clutching the hem of his mother’s skirt, while Tooru stood beside him, looking a bit uneasy.

They had planned to get ice cream and thank Tobio for agreeing to train Takeru for free. At least, that’s what his mom and uncle thought. What they didn’t know was that Takeru had made a secret deal with his new best friend—one that involved an embarrassing picture of his uncle as payment.

Despite everything seeming to go well, Takeru still couldn’t understand why his plan hadn’t worked out. His uncle and Tobio-chan still weren’t a couple. He even asked his mom about it, and she smiled proudly, encouraging his innocent view of relationships between two boys. She told him to always keep an open and respectful mind, but explained that maybe his uncle was talking about a girl, or, even if it was about Tobio-chan, we can't control other people's feelings.

But as Takeru stared at the gates of Karasuno, he felt like he might’ve made a big mistake. Tobio was talking to a girl who was handing him some papers and explaining something. When she turned around, Takeru felt as if time had slowed down, and the world seemed to light up around him.

She was stunning.

Her black hair framed her face and fell to her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling like the sky. She wore glasses, and there was a little beauty mark just under her lips.

Takeru was enchanted. His eyes lit up like a star, but in the blink of an eye, that light flickered out.

He had been wrong all along. A heavy feeling sank into his chest, and he had to fight back tears.

“Uncle…” Takeru called, his voice laced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It’s her, isn’t it? The pretty girl you like is her, right? I’m sorry, I made a mistake.”

“Takeru! You're here!” Tobio waved from a distance as he noticed them, his face lighting up with a bright smile. A gentle breeze tousled his hair, and sakura petals danced around him, making him look almost magical.

“No need to apologize, Takeru…” Oikawa smiled softly, letting out a sigh. “The one who made a mistake… was me. A really big one.”

───── ♥ ─────

The park was quiet. Takeru had spent the whole afternoon with Tobio, his energy buzzing, but now he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. His tiny body sagged against his mom, who was carrying him.

"We should go," his sister said, her voice soft as she looked down at Takeru, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes. "You coming?"

She glanced at Oikawa, who stood still, eyes averted, as though uncertain.

"I’ll stay," he murmured, his voice quieter than usual, as if the weight of the moment made him unsure of himself.

His sister’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Alright. And Tobio, thank you for being so kind to my son.”

Tobio nodded, his head slightly lowered in respect. "Thank you. I’m sorry for making him cry. I’ll do my best to help Takeru with volleyball and make him smile more."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You’re too sweet. But you don’t need to be so formal."

With a final glance at both of them, she turned to leave. “Take care, boys. Call me if you need anything, Tooru.”

"Thanks, Nee-san," Oikawa answered, his voice softer than before, and he stood there watching her until the taxi drove away.

Tobio was about to turn and leave too, but something held him back. He felt a strange discomfort, like an unspoken tension lingering in the air.

"Tobio, do you mind walking with me?" Oikawa asked, breaking the silence, his voice a bit uncertain.

Tobio paused, his heart fluttering, caught off guard. “Ah… okay." 

They began walking side by side, the park now almost empty, with only a few couples strolling lazily in the distance. Oikawa led the way toward a quieter spot, where the sunset spread a soft glow across the sky. The air felt still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves, almost as if the world had faded away, leaving them in a bubble of quiet.

Neither spoke at first. It felt like they were standing at the edge of something, unsure of which way to go. Finally, Oikawa broke the silence.

"I like it when the weather’s like this," he said quietly, his hands clasped behind his back, a casual statement masking the uncertainty in his tone.

"It’s nice," Tobio answered, his voice almost too soft, his gaze turned away. The words felt empty to him, just a way to fill the space between them. 

He couldn’t shake the weird feeling of uncertainty, the discomfort of not knowing where the conversation was going, like they were both waiting for the other to say something, yet neither knew what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa suddenly said, his voice cutting through the silence, and Tobio glanced up in surprise. “I should’ve been nicer to you back in Middle school... but I wasn’t.”

Tobio froze, his steps faltering. Oikawa... was apologizing? It took him a moment to process, and for a second, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His heart seemed to pound in his chest, unsure whether to let the words sink in or to brush them off.

He offered a faint smile, unsure what to do with the moment. "It’s fine. I don’t hold grudges. I just... got confused. I never really understood what I did wrong."

Oikawa shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No. You didn’t do anything wrong, Tobio."

Tobio nodded, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly. "Then we’re good. No need for deep talks or sappy apologies. We can just go back to being... well, old acquaintances. But... thanks for apologizing, Oikawa-san."

He extended his hand.

"Okay," Oikawa replied, still holding Tobio’s hand for a moment. Their fingers brushed together, lingering like they weren’t sure if they should let go.

“Is there anything else you want to say?" Tobio asked, noticing how naturally Oikawa had intertwined their pinkies. His heart skipped a beat at the subtle connection.

Oikawa sighed, his moment of courage quickly fading. "No," he said with a nervous smile, stretching his arms above his head and trying to mask his unease with a fake yawn.

"Alright," Tobio said, kicking at some dry leaves. "Should we head back?"

"We’re almost at the viewpoint, Tobio-chan," Oikawa said, flashing a teasing grin. "Let’s get there first, then we can go back. The view’s supposed to be amazing."

Tobio turned slightly, still quiet, murmuring, "Okay." 

They climbed the steps toward the viewpoint, the comfortable silence between them broken only by their footsteps and the breeze. The sky was painted with hues of orange as the sun sank, casting a warm light over the park. Tobio extended his hand, letting the sunlight warm his skin, the contrast between the heat and the cool wind oddly comforting.

"Wow. It’s really beautiful," he said, the peaceful scene mirrored in his eyes.

Oikawa, standing beside him, caught his breath for a moment, his gaze lingering on Tobio. "I’ve seen this view a hundred times, but... I always lied to myself about how beautiful it really is."

"Really?" Tobio asked, leaning in a bit to get a better look at the lake below. Ducklings paddled across the calm water, and the air smelled of damp earth, with drifting leaves decorating the surface. "I thought anyone seeing this for the first time would think it's beautiful."

"Maybe I’m just blind and stupid," Oikawa murmured, letting out a light, ironic laugh.

Tobio chuckled. "Well, you're the one saying that."

Oikawa sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. It seemed like Tobio still didn’t understand.

"I guess we’re not great at this whole communication thing," he admitted, his hands twitching slightly. "I don’t know how to say things, and you don’t know how to read me."

Tobio furrowed his brow, trying to understand. "I don’t get it."

"See?" Oikawa gave a nervous laugh, gesturing between them. "This. Us. We’re an impossible puzzle."

Tobio shrugged, unbothered. "Guess so," he said with a faint grin. "I’m like an emotional brick wall, and you’re..."

"A hurricane?" Oikawa suggested, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Exactly," Tobio replied, leaning back, resting one foot on the wooden railing of the viewpoint, as if savoring the moment. "You’re a hurricane."

"What do you think happens when you put a brick and a hurricane together?"

Tobio gazed at the view, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. "Destruction, maybe? It’s kind of a weird thought. I doubt anyone’s ever thought of it like that. Doesn’t fit. It’s not as poetic as water and wine, or the sun and the moon."

"And you like poetic stuff?"

Tobio chuckled, lowering his gaze. "Not really. Besides volleyball, I’m pretty… shallow? Sometimes it’s hard to explain what I feel, but it’s not about being scared. I just don’t see the point in overthinking.”

"I get it," Oikawa said, his voice softening as his eyes stayed on Tobio. He was closer now, their shoulders nearly brushing.

A duck quacked in the background. Oikawa looked up. 

"Have you ever felt completely alone, Tobio? Like no one truly understands you?"

"Most of the time."

Oikawa paused, surprised by the simplicity of Tobio’s answer. It was true, he thought. There was a reason for Tobio’s nickname on the court.

"And someone who calls himself... shallow. How do you handle the loneliness?"

"I fill it with stuff," Tobio replied with a sigh, like the answer was obvious. "Volleyball, watching matches, and now my friends from Karasuno. There’s not much else to do."

"So you just accept it."

"Pretty much," Tobio shrugged, his gaze drifting. "Maybe it’ll change one day. Maybe I’ll have more friends in the future, maybe I won’t. I can’t control that. I just try not to hurt anyone. Try not to repeat my mistakes."

Oikawa looked down, thoughtful.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about fixing my mistakes lately," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Especially the ones I made with you."

"Oh..." Tobio pressed his lips together, his eyes briefly flickering toward Oikawa before he turned to lean on the railing, his back now to the view. "You’ve really been thinking about that?"

"A lot.” 

"And have you figured out how to make it right?" 

"Do you think the apology wasn’t enough?" Oikawa’s eyes searched his, as if looking for a sign of what Tobio really felt.

Tobio turned his head to the side, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles. "If you think it was," he said, trying to mask his nervousness, but before he could fully turn away, he felt Oikawa’s fingers brush against his hand.

Oikawa hesitated for a moment, then gently linked their fingers together. The warmth of his touch spoke volumes, leaving Tobio’s heart pounding.

"Takeru told me you like me," Oikawa said, his voice shaky but determined. He felt so childish, holding onto the naive guess of an eight-year-old. "Do you like me?" 

Tobio shook his head and smiled. “I’ve always liked you, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa’s breath caught in his throat, his pulse thundering in his ears. "But we’d be weird together, right? Like a brick and a hurricane? No grace, no poetry.”

Tobio rolled his eyes. "Who cares?"

Oikawa let out a short, soft laugh, the kind that carried more weight than it seemed. "You're right. Who cares?" he murmured, his lips curving into a teasing smile. He took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them until their bodies were nearly touching. "God, I really want to kiss you right now.”

Tobio froze, a blend of surprise and something else blooming in his chest.

"Oikawa-san..."

A flash of regret flickered across Oikawa’s face, his breath halting for a moment. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have—"

"No," Tobio interrupted, his voice softer, his face flushing as he looked away. "You don’t need to announce it. Just do it."

"I just wanted to make it clear how badly I want to kiss you," Oikawa murmured, slowly pressing his body between Tobio's legs, the movement intentional and ligering.

He glanced back at Oikawa, his gaze steady despite the heat rising in his cheeks. "It’s embarrassing when you say it out loud. Just kiss me, idiot."

Oikawa didn't say anything; he simply moved with a quiet urgency, pulling Tobio closer. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that left Tobio breathless. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if they were both trying to take in every moment, every touch, every shared breath.

Oikawa’s hands tightened around Tobio’s waist, his fingers digging into his skin, pulling him even closer. Tobio could feel the warmth of Oikawa's breath against his neck, as if the world around them had disappeared and all that mattered was this feeling. Oikawa's nose grazed Tobio's jaw, and his body pressed him against the railing of the deck.

Tobio didn’t know what felt more real—the burning desire against his skin or the relief of finally being in the place he’d always wanted to be.

For a brief moment, he felt himself fade, like a stream of water flowing across the deck, blending into the vast lake that witnessed their kiss.

God, he'd dreamed of this moment so many times.

Oikawa was gentle, his lips soft and sweet. He cupped Tobio's face with tender hands, a quiet smile tugging at his lips, and for a moment, Tobio could feel the faintest touch of Oikawa's teeth—an intimate moment that lingered just a breath away.

"You're not the bad boy you think you are," Tobio whispered. "You're so soft, so caring.”

Oikawa chuckled, the sound like a melody, soft and warm in the quiet space between them. Leaning in again, he brushed his lips over Tobio’s neck with a teasing kiss.

“I’m tough, alright? You’re already trying to pick a fight?”

“Would this be our first fight as a couple?”

Oikawa froze, eyes wide.

“A couple? Hold on a second.”

Tobio raised an eyebrow.

“So, what the hell are we?”

 “I don't know. We've barely kissed.”

“Exactly. We kissed . And did you know that Takeru already calls me 'uncle,' right?” Tobio teased.

Oikawa laughed nervously. “I think I just walked into something terrifying. Are you really obsessed with me, Tobio-chan?”

“Yeah. Who isn’t?”

Oikawa’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected answer. His fingers tightened around the back of Tobio’s neck, pulling him into another kiss, this time more urgent. Their lips collided, hungry and eager, and Tobio let go of his thoughts, losing himself in the moment. His arms wrapped around Oikawa, pulling him closer, as if he never wanted to let go..

Takeru had been right all along: Oikawa was in love with someone from Karasuno. With those blue eyes and that glossy black hair. He was just too proud to admit it, projecting it onto someone else with the same traits—a way to mask his feelings, to avoid confronting the truth.

“Hey, Tobio, what’s in your pocket?”

“My payment for the training.”

“What? That’s a picture of me!”

“I know. Takeru promised me an embarrassing picture of you as payment,” Tobio explained as they descended the stairs.

“That brat,” Oikawa muttered. “But... I have to admit, this pic isn’t that bad.”

“It’s just that in the end,” Tobio’s voice dropped slightly, his cheeks flushing a little, “I asked for a picture of you smiling. The happiest one he could find.”

“Hm. Why?” 

Tobio’s eyes flickered to Oikawa’s face before he quickly looked away. “Because that’s how I want to see you, Oikawa-san. Happy. Really happy.”

Oikawa smiled softly. He hadn’t expected that, and he didn’t want Tobio to know how much it affected him, but something inside him melted.

“You’re ridiculous, Tobio,” Oikawa said, his voice warm and playful as he laced his fingers through Tobio’s and they walked away from the deck. “But you’re also kinda sweet.”

Tobio glanced at the picture one last time. The picture of Oikawa. The one that meant more than he was willing to admit.

I'll make sure to keep this smile on your face, Oikawa-san. I promise.