Chapter Text
The beginning of the end happened in the final set against Shiratorizawa.
Karasuno won, Tobio won.
The wall that Oikawa could never break through, Tobio shattered with his own hands. It wasn't easy, it wasn't simple, he didn't do it alone, but it happened.
Strangely, for Tobio, that hadn't been the biggest win of the season. Wakatoshi was an amazing player and a huge challenge, but the feeling was different. Different from not long ago when they beat Aoba Johsai. On that day, Tobio celebrated as if he could finally admit that he was good enough. He defeated Oikawa Tooru. He defeated the best setter he knew. But unfortunately, the taste of victory didn't last long.
When Karasuno's victory against Aoba Johsai was announced, their teammates continued celebrating for a few minutes, but Tobio took a few steps back and stopped in front of the net. Oikawa sensed Tobio's presence and turned to face him. The two stood face to face, surrounded by a tense atmosphere filled with hatred, envy, and resentment—most of it coming from Oikawa. The face of Miyagi's most beloved setter was slightly contorted, as if he was trying to contain the intensity of his emotions.
Though a volleyball net physically stood between them, the true barrier lay in something invisible and intangible, beyond the reach of eyes and hands. Miles of emotional distance separated them, obscured by a dense layer of unspoken words and unexplained actions. Whenever they faced each other, emotions oscillated between heat and cold—blood boiling with anger and adrenaline, followed by a freezing wind of indifference that chilled their spines.
Among all the complex relationships Tobio has navigated in his life, Oikawa is unquestionably the only one who can make him doubt himself. During their first official match against Aoba Johsai, Tobio had to be substituted by Sugawara.
He wasn't himself. Hinata noticed it first, and Yamaguchi and Coach Ukai observed the same. Where had Tobio's confidence gone? Where were his thoughts? They seemed distant, no longer focused on the court.
And that was an undeniable truth: when it came to Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio would lose himself, abandon his logical nature, and let his feelings take over.
Oikawa reduced him to a primitive state.
Tobio's mind on the court was consistently a impenetrable fortress, as focused as a hunter on its prey. During the games, nothing else existed for him. It was just volleyball, volleyball, volleyball. But then Oikawa appeared, and Tobio's fortified mind crumbled like a piece of paper in his senpai's hands.
He was a mess.
Am I good enough? Will I ever be better than him? Can I beat him? Will he finally recognize my skills? Am I going to be defeated? No, no! I need to beat him. I need to surpass him. Damn, his serves are better than mine. And now it's my turn to serve. What if I miss the serve? What if I miss the serve right in front of him?
And then, he missed the serve.
Oh, shit!
Tobio's cheeks turned as red as a tomato, and he wished he could vanish into thin air.
"Kageyama, you ain't playing against Oikawa Tooru. You're playing against Aoba Johsai. Don't forget that!"
Coach Ukai warned, because unfortunately, that's what Tobio became in front of Oikawa Tooru: someone who can't think straight.
But this time, Tobio had won. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Oikawa's face was now right in front of him with only the net separating them.
"Now we're at one loss, one win. Don't get on your high horse" Oikawa said, a slight anger showing in his voice.
"I won't," Tobio replied, his hands trembling by his side, which he disguised when he clenched his fist.
And at that moment, they parted ways, walking in opposite directions. Between them, it was always like this:
Eyes meeting but never staying long enough.
At the end of matches, they could simply turn their backs and walk away. They could, but they never did. One waited for the other, for those few seconds of interaction.
A glimpse of the unspoken truth.
***
After the game against Shiratorizawa, a lot happened in Tobio's life. He was invited to attend the National Youth Intensive Training Camp and new opportunities were arising.
Life had never seemed so promising. So why did he have to do that? Why did he have to open the messaging app on his phone and make such a dumb decision?
We won
Sent at 8:13 PM
Tobio tucked his phone under the pillow and picked up the ball, tossing it into the air and waiting for it to come back into his hands.
Why was it so important for him to tell this to Oikawa? Oikawa probably already knew the outcome of the game. It was impossible for him not to. So, why did Tobio feel the need to send that message? What did he hope to achieve? Humiliate Oikawa? Make him feel inferior?
Oh, look at me, I achieved something you never did.
No, Tobio wasn't that petty.
So why?
The phone buzzed a few minutes later.
What do you want? You want me to congratulate you? Tobio-chan, you're so needy. Just leave me alone.
Seen at 9:05 PM
Tobio snatched the phone, his mouth tightening into a thin line and his eyebrows furrowing.
Just wanted to say thanks. That tip you gave me that afternoon we met was really helpful. You guided me on how to be more assertive with Hinata during the game, and it kinda made a difference for us.
Sent at 9:09 PM
Tobio gulped nervously. The message was genuine and maybe that's why he'd started this chat from the get-go. He craved a real conversation. He'd always wanted that. But as Oikawa pushed Tobio away as if he were infected with a deadly disease, Tobio simply mirrored the behavior.
It was an unthinkable dynamic. Something like ‘you push me away, I'll push you even further away.’
All this chaos was just a weak and foolish reflection of what he truly wanted. And what he wanted was just one decent conversation with his senpai.
Was that too much to ask?
I don’t need your pity, Tobio. Enjoy your stupid victory
Seen at 9:20 PM
Yes, it was too much to ask. Oikawa would never give Tobio a pleasant conversation.
Why do you hate me?
Sent at 9:20 PM
This message was impulsive. The question that had always haunted Tobio’s mind was finally out. Five words and a question mark, his long-standing pain summarized in one line glowing on the phone screen.
Days passed and the reply never came.
It never would.
And that's why Tobio decided he would find Oikawa in person and ask the question again. He didn't want to start a new chapter of his life burdened by doubts from the past. All that heavy baggage on his shoulders could prevent him from reaching greater heights.
What if he had to face Oikawa on the court in the future? Would he have to be substituted again? Would he miss a serve on the world stage? How long were they going to keep fueling this childish rivalry?
Tobio was getting tired of this crap.
He would confront Oikawa about the weird dynamic between them. What was the reason behind all this unexplained hatred and resentment? This time, Oikawa wouldn't be able to dodge the question. Tobio wouldn't allow it. He'd be firm and persistent, determined to get a clear and definitive answer.
Two weeks later, after bumping into Iwaizumi an opportunity arose. Tobio asked him for a big favor. Iwaizumi couldn't fulfill the request at that moment, but he said he could help the next day.
Tobio waited for the new day to come, setting aside the last hours of his free time to take a chance. He was brave enough to go, despite his shaky legs and sweaty hands.
"He's in there," Iwaizumi pointed to a small room within the gym. "We're closing up the gym, but I'll wait a few more minutes at the gate on the other side of the school."
Iwaizumi let him in because, unlike Oikawa, Iwaizumi always treated Tobio with kindness. They weren't close friends, but they respected each other enough to have a decent conversation. They had a typical kouhai-senpai relationship.
"Thanks, Iwaizumi-san," Tobio bowed quickly. "I hope my relationship with your best friend improves. I have a lot of respect for both of you."
Iwaizumi just nodded and sighed, looking at the darkening sky. A sigh of hope or perhaps frustration, as if he already knew how things would turn out.
"Iwa-chan, I'm almost done here," Oikawa said as he heard footsteps approaching. Tobio entered the room. There were cabinets around, brooms hang neatly on hooks along the wall, volleyball balls in huge baskets, buckets, and some cleaning cloths.
"Oikawa-san, we need to talk. Please," Tobio started the conversation by bowing. Last time this gesture worked. Oikawa even asked his nephew to take a picture of ‘Tobio's humiliating moment’.
Oikawa couldn't keep his cool. His mouth kept opening and closing, making short confused sounds.
"Why are you here? Who let you in?" Oikawa's eyes widened, and his jaw tensed.
"Sorry for barging in, but we need to talk," Tobio said as he slowly straightened up.
Oikawa stood there, with his nose in the air: stuck-up, annoying, arrogant, smug...and many other adjectives Tobio wanted to think, wanted to feel, but it wasn't the truth.
It was as if Tobio's blood had been infused with some potent antidote that prevented him from hating Oikawa completely. No matter what Oikawa did, this 'antidote,' applied who knows when or by whom, in his system, just prevented him from harboring total hatred towards the guy.
"What the hell do you want here, Tobio?"
The usual mocking "Tobio-chan" was replaced by a serious tone. It made Tobio realize that Karasuno's win against Shiratorizawa affected Oikawa way more than he thought.
"Why do you hate me?" Tobio got straight to the point, his heart pounding and the words rushing out all at once. A silence hung between them.
Oikawa glanced away for a second, like he always does. Tobio, breathing quickly and with shaky legs, kept staring into those evasive eyes.
"Did you come here just for this? You're so needy, Tobio-chan. You should use your free time for something more useful, you know? Take this as a hint from your senpai."
"I got invited to attend the National Youth Intensive Training Camp," Tobio replied, brushing off the taunts.
"Good for you," Oikawa muttered as he walked towards the door.
Bang!
The sudden thud made Oikawa startle, taking a step back. Tobio's hand was pressed against the door, which was now closed.
"I'm so done with you always running away. If there's any empathy left in you, just spill it out. I'm doing my best to patch things up between us. I'm moving forward with my life and don't wanna be stuck in these dumb fights. What did I do wrong? Whatever it was, it wasn't on purpose. I'm just... totally lost.”
Oikawa glared at Tobio's hands blocking the door.
"Move, Tobio."
"I won't!"
"I said, move!" Oikawa ordered, his voice louder and stronger.
"I WON'T!" Tobio shouted back.
"You fucking brat." Oikawa grabbed him by the collar of his team jacket, the Karasuno emblem embroidered on the chest.
Tobio mirrored the gesture, seizing Oikawa by the neck of his shirt.
A mirror. His actions towards Oikawa were always like this.
This behavior was noted by Hinata once when Oikawa scored a surprising point against Karasuno and warned Tobio that he would do it several times, so he needed to be alert. Shortly after, Tobio replicated the gesture, imitating Oikawa. It was thoughtless, entirely impulsive. Tobio even forgot it was his turn to serve, so what he threatened couldn't even be done.
Tobio just keeps copying, copying, and copying.
I only do it because you do, I only give what you give, I only hate you because you hate me.
"Get your hands off me, stupid," Oikawa snarled, his voice dripping with hatred.
“Get YOUR hands off me!” Tobio refused to back down. "Do you hate me that much? Why? Why? Why?"
He repeated like a madman, his eyes filled with disbelief, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on Oikawa's shirt.
Tobio's desperate tone caused Oikawa to let his guard down, loosening his grip.
"Geez, are you obsessed or something? Just leave me alone, Tobio." Oikawa pushed himself away, breaking free from Tobio's hold. "I hate you because I hate you. I don't need a reason for it.”
As Oikawa dodged, Tobio slammed his back against the door latch. His skin scratched, burning, sensitive, and sore; adrenaline boiling in his blood.
Why did everything between them always end up like this?
Tobio scratched his head and paced back and forth, snapping his fingers, trying to get his head straight, begging for his judgment to return, to start acting rationally, but as always, when it came to Oikawa's shit, emotions won.
And that's what happened:
Oikawa went to the door again, attempting to leave the room, but this time the shock was more intense. Tobio grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and kissed him—a clumsy kiss, teeth clashing, with stiff and cold lips.
Oikawa's eyes widened as he turned his face away, wiping his mouth with his forearm.
"What the hell are you doing, Kageyama? Have you lost your mind?" He stared at him, his cheeks burning.
Tobio's eyes were empty, like his soul had left his body. What's gotten into him? Is he really going crazy?
"I don't know... I... I'm sorry," Tobio began, his fingers tangling around Oikawa's waist.
His words expressed remorse, yet his hands pulled Oikawa closer. Contradictions permeated their interaction, particularly evident in the nuances.
Never straightforward, never the headline, never the main track. Their flawed relationship, a mix of admiration and hatred, would forever remain a footnote, the fine print that nobody reads or cares enough to understand the implicit message.
Oikawa was breathless, consumed by hatred and anger. He wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum like a spoiled child. He wanted to lie on the ground and kick and cry, to thrash his arms and legs, insisting that Tobio had no right, no right at all, to question his hatred. No right to make him reflect on that, to take his feelings off autopilot. He wanted to steal from Oikawa the only thing he knew, because this hatred was his driving force for all these years. That's how they had operated since middle school. And if it wasn't hatred, then what?
That rivalry was what kept them intertwined in each other's lives for years and years, never getting closer, but also never drifting apart.
If it weren't for the hate, what would be left of them?
"I think I'm really going crazy," Tobio confessed, his fingers lightly tracing Oikawa's back. "I should just admit that I hate you too and accept that this weird thing between us is never going to change."
Oikawa felt his skin prickling. That's what he wanted, for things to never change.
Tobio only kept Oikawa on his mind because Oikawa made himself inaccessible. Tobio only thought Oikawa was the best setter because he was so focused on rejection that he didn't look around. Hatred kept them safe, strangely interconnected. It turned them into ghosts that would haunt each other for the rest of their lives. Unconsciously, the rest of their lives was what they longed for.
"You don't have to explain why you hate me, Oikawa-san," Tobio said, sliding his fingers under Oikawa's shirt, finding warm and soft skin. "I hate you too, and I don't need a reason for it. I just do. I hate you.”
Oikawa was so dysfunctional and pitiful because when the word 'hate' left Tobio's lips, Oikawa wanted to be in its place.
He leaned in and kissed Tobio, their bodies pressing together, shoving Tobio against the door with pure hatred. His hands went back to Tobio's jacket collar, gripping it so tightly it nearly lifted his kouhai off the ground.
"I hate you, Oikawa-san. I hate you so much," Tobio muttered between kisses, only to provoke Oikawa into kissing him even harder.
Repeating those words had an effect on Oikawa. It captured his attention, much like bowing and begging for help had done the last time they met.
Tobio's hands scratched at Oikawa's soft back, their hips grinding, arms, chest, and legs all tangled up. They were melding together in hatred and misery until they became a puddle of nothing.
It was hard to admit, but Tobio knew, or at least suspected, that this moment wouldn't lead to anything greater or better. Yet Tobio was so weak and pathetic that he accepted it—accepted crumbs of whatever that meant.
Oikawa's tongue wasn't as sharp as it used to be in the few conversations they had. It was gentle, soft, smooth. Oikawa seemed confident of what he was doing and, most importantly, he seemed to know he was good at it.
In contrast to Tobio, who felt his own inexperience in comparison. Almost none, except for a girl in the last year of middle school.
Driven by the anguish of realizing this moment would never happen again, Tobio tossed his bag on the ground and shrugged off his jacket. It was reckless, impulsive, stupid, needy, pathetic...then he grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted it halfway up his abs when Oikawa backed away at the last second.
He looked at Tobio's abdomen, his eyes fixated there. His breathing quickly changed to something faster and more erratic. Oikawa closed his eyes for a few seconds, sensing he was about to lose control. Taking a deep breath, Oikawa ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face forcefully, leaving red marks on his skin as he tried to regain his composure.
"You have to leave, Tobio."
"I don't wanna leave."
If he were to leave, it would mark the end, leaving Tobio with more questions than answers.
"Then I'll leave."
"Go ahead," Tobio challenged, secretly hoping he wouldn't. Reverse psychology needed to work. Tobio's sanity depended on it.
Oikawa locked eyes with Tobio's wild gaze. He held it for almost a minute. It was agonizing, sad, bitter…
What the hell did that silence mean? Why was silence the only damn thing Tobio seemed to deserve?
Oikawa swallowed hard and looked away.
Between them, it was always like this: Eyes meeting but never staying for long enough.
"Well, I'm leaving. Have a good life.”
Oikawa opened the door and stepped out.
"What's this weird thing happening between us? Do you hate me or not? What am I to you?" Tobio kept asking as Oikawa walked away.
“I'll ask Iwazumi to come back and lock up the gym," Oikawa replied, still facing away, raising one hand in farewell and ignoring all of Tobio's questions.
Oikawa's silhouette cast a beautiful shadow, stretching across the bright yet empty court of Aoba Johsai. It was a heartbreaking scene because this time Tobio couldn't turn away and go the opposite way. He was trapped, surrounded by walls and cabinets. For the first time, he forced himself to watch Oikawa moving away.
And it was painful.
And it was devastating.
He grabbed a volleyball and threw it forcefully in Oikawa's direction.
"Coward! You’re a fucking coward!" Tobio shouted, using all the air in his lungs.
The ball flew past Oikawa and slammed hard onto the ground, the thunder echoing through the entire gym.
"I hate you, Tooru," Tobio said angrily, using Oikawa's first name for the first time. Fuck respect. They've been shitting on it for too long. "Now, I genuinely hate you.”
And if Tobio had gone after Oikawa, he would've seen tears welling up in his eyes, with a stubborn tear rolling down his cheek.
And if Oikawa had just swallowed his pride for a second and looked back, he'd have caught Tobio wiping away some sudden tears.
And if...
And if...
And if...
How much regret can fit in such young souls?
Only time will tell.