Ruminate {Oikawa x f!reader}

Reciprocation

You don't care for your home. You should say house because, honestly, there hasn't been a home in it since your mother left. Nevertheless, your father still enters with a call of, "I'm home." And you always wait for it. "Have you had dinner yet?" You nod your head, sat on the floor with your body hunched over the coffee table. There's fire crackling on the tv, the background noise you need to study. "Went to that ramen place with my team and another." He makes a sound of acknowledgement, letting his briefcase hit the couch before him.

"That's good; I should try it since you're frequenting it so often." You roll your eyes playfully. "You don't have any time, remember?" Your father is an accountant, and even though he makes decent money, there's the air of tiredness that pokes him for it, like a stamp to a party only this is a stamp that stays even when he's happy, no water able to wash it away. You wonder if he'll ever stop working, and he laughs dryly. "Funny, last time I remember you can barely make it because of your obsessive compulsive studying."

You actually roll your eyes this time, setting down your pencil and turning slightly to face him. "Last time I checked, you liked bragging about having a daughter who only got A's." He deadpans, reaching forward, and before you can stop him, pinching your cheek harshly. "I'd brag of you better if you let this A thing go." You pull away from his touch, reaching for the remote and turning off your background noise. "Have you even eaten dad?" "What is that supposed to mean?" You stand, already making your way over to the kitchen. "It means you only act this way because you don't have food in your system." "I'll have you know-" "I'll make your favorite-" "That I love you more than time can comprehend." You smile, already picking things out of the fridge as you prepare his favorite, oddly simple, dish. "Go clean up, it'll be done by then." You father stretches his arms above his head before making his way to the bathroom. "I'd die without." "Very likely."

You watch your father eat, scarfing down food and slowing when you scold, only for the process to repeat when he eats another bite. "Dad," you voice, barely realizing your word before you see his eyes target yours, humming in question. He can't talk, his mouth is full of food. "Do you think I'd be a good accountant?" He blinks, setting down his spoon for the chop sticks beside him. "No." "No?" "No." You blink, brows furrowing as you straighten your spine even more. "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means I don't think you'll be a good accountant." "But why-" "You didn't ask why-" "Well, why dad, why don't you think I'll be a good accountant?"

He sighs, setting down his chicken for you, only for a moment though, his eyes already on the spoon he's using. "Because, Y/n, you don't want to be an accountant. You'll think it's too easy, and then regret will take hold of you, and then you'll realize that you really should've let yourself be a child and take so many missteps in deciding your future. And I'm not going to be the reason you go into something easy yet draining. I don't want you to be me, I want you to be yourself." You have this conversation every day almost, your brain still not comprehending your age no matter how hard you try. Regardless, your dad's answer stays the same, stays wanting you to be you and not what your mother wanted, not the stereotypical safe route to appease the life you would've had with her. "Now, go to bed or tell me about your day-" "Good night." "Seriously!?"

Your weekends are filled with boredom and studying. That's how it's always been, and even after meeting someone you think is your platonic soulmate, it's yet to change. You thought at least. "Y/n?" You hum, crossing out an answer before circling another. "Ema is here to see you." You blink, freezing before turning to look at your father. "What?" "Ema's here." "Why?" "To see you." "What-" "Okay, I just broke down my sentence, so I think you can guess what my replies will be." Your face scrunches. "But dad-" "I have to meet a client so the house is yours for tonight, but if you party make sure it's-" "I have never thrown-" "That's why I'm saying you should-" "Dad I'm not that-" "Be a kid and I'll let Ema in." The air stalls for a moment until you nod and your father smiles. "She's in the living room, see you!" "Stay safe!"