Look At Me

00 : 01

     Boom. Oikawa heard the ball connect with the ground, then bounce a couple times before rolling to a stop. He let out a faint gasp, realizing what just happened. The orange-haired first-year stood at the opposite side of the net, realization dawning on him as well.      Chibi-Chan was going to Nationals.

     The opposing team screamed in happiness, the third-years grouping into a hug, while the two chaotic second years congratulated Chibi-Chan, ruffling his hair, excitement filling all of their faces. They were happy. They got their revenge. They finally beat Aoba Johsai. Oikawa watched as his middle school underclassman looked at the points on the score board, a smile easing its way onto his face.

⊱ ─ ‧̥̥͙⋅. ♔ .⋅‧̥̥͙ ─ ⊰

I hate him.

     Oikawa stiffened at the sight, watching the ends of Tobio-Chan's lips curl upwards. It made Oikawa sick to his stomach. He could feel the acid inside start to churn, and his blood boiling. It was the exact same feeling that he had felt back at Kitagawa Daiichi, when his fist had almost connected with dear Tobio-Chan's face. A hand clasped Oikawa's shoulder, and he shivered a little. When looking back over his shoulder, he saw his dear friend Iwaizumi Hajime glaring at him. Oikawa's stomach did a couple of somersaults before settling back down again. It's just Iwa-Chan. Chill out, Tooru.

     Iwaizumi's unsettling glare rested on Oikawa's face for a little longer, before it softened and the hand on his shoulder became lighter. That same hand lifted up to Oikawa's face, and wiped a tear that Oikawa didn't even know had escaped from his chocolate-coloured eyes.

     Not a word escaped from Iwaizumi's lips, but his olive-coloured eyes spoke all the words Oikawa needed to hear. It's okay, Shittykawa. We did our best.

But our best wasn't enough, Iwa-Chan. It wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.

Don't think like that. You did amazing.

What kind of Captain am I if my best form still caused us to lose?

There's no 'I' in team, Shittykawa.

But there is one in Aoba Johsai. And I wasn't enough for it. We're not going to Nationals because of me. How are we supposed to beat Ushiwaka now?

     Iwaizumi and Oikawa were so focused on each other that they didn't hear the referee blow the whistle, didn't hear the cheers from Karasuno's fellow classmates, didn't hear Coach Mizoguchi telling them to line up to shake the opposing team's hands. They probably would've stood in the middle of the court for hours and hours on end if Hanamaki and Matsukawa hadn't tapped them on the shoulders and motioned for them to line up. Oikawa was the first to turn away from his and Iwaizumi's little mental quarrel, leaving his best friend watching his back growing smaller and smaller as he walked away from him. Iwaizumi knew exactly what kind of meaningless thoughts were going inside his head right now, and he hated the fact that Oikawa dared to let them in. But the fact that Iwaizumi couldn't do anything to help him erase those brain-less and incredibly dense thoughts of his from his head pissed him off even more. What the hell kind of shitty friend was Oikawa, if he didn't trust Iwaizumi enough to let him in?

     Iwaizumi stalked over to his team, the veins in his forehead popping out. His anger seemed to be spilling out all over the place, like he was a glass cup, and his frustrations were the water inside. If he wasn't careful, the cup would shatter, and the water would go everywhere.

     He felt a hand on his back, which pushed him down into a bow. He looked at Oikawa, who was currently staring at the ground like it would open up and swallow him at any second. Iwaizumi could tell his best friend was struggling to hold back the tears in his eyes.