It's a lesson that Tobio learns, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, the first time he sees Oikawa benched, clutching his knee, shoulders trembling.
Ideals can be smashed. Hearts can be crushed. Dreams can be shattered.
Everything, Tobio understands, has the potential to break.
He shuts his eyes, breathes in deeply, and takes comfort in the thought.
Across the court from him, Oikawa's expression is as hard as steel, but he's made of flesh and bone and muscle and sinew. He can break, and put himself together, and push himself until he breaks again. His knee, his ankle, his fingers, his shoulder, Tobio remembers the sprains, the bandages, the breaks from practice, he has them all catalogued somewhere at the back of his mind, from when he was young and wouldn't know better than to stand and to stare.
But Tobio in his first year of middle school is nothing like Kageyama in his third year of middle school, and that is nothing like Kageyama in his first year of high school.
Or so he hopes.
There are roles to play, expectations heaped upon their shoulders and they, too, can break. Oikawa breaks his cheery, carefree character; breaks the neat lines of the players on the court; breaks the atmosphere; breaks Karasuno's defense like it's nothing at all. Tobio refuses to let any of it break his spirit. He doesn't let it break his concentration.
Oikawa toys with them, taunts them, and it's frustrating. Tobio can feel himself slipping back into his familiar thought patterns, wanting to push himself to increase his pace, his accuracy, to push the people around him to do the same. Tobio knows, however, that bodies aren't the only things that can be pushed until they break.
He'll have to find some way to grow, to change before he falls back into his previous self. He'll change, and maybe Oikawa will break him, maybe he will break Oikawa instead.
If Oikawa can pick himself up and carry on, Tobio thinks to himself, then surely he will be able to learn the same. It's a matter of watching him learning him. A jump serve is one thing. Mental resilience is another matter entirely.
Still, Tobio watches. He doesn't stare, blank and unassuming, but carefully, calculating. He learns.
Someday, no matter how long it might take, Tobio promises himself, he will learn how to break free.
FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G
word count: 409
Nothing is invincible. Nothing is unbreakable.
It's a lesson that Tobio learns, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, the first time he sees Oikawa benched, clutching his knee, shoulders trembling.
Ideals can be smashed. Hearts can be crushed. Dreams can be shattered.
Everything, Tobio understands, has the potential to break.
He shuts his eyes, breathes in deeply, and takes comfort in the thought.
Across the court from him, Oikawa's expression is as hard as steel, but he's made of flesh and bone and muscle and sinew. He can break, and put himself together, and push himself until he breaks again. His knee, his ankle, his fingers, his shoulder, Tobio remembers the sprains, the bandages, the breaks from practice, he has them all catalogued somewhere at the back of his mind, from when he was young and wouldn't know better than to stand and to stare.
But Tobio in his first year of middle school is nothing like Kageyama in his third year of middle school, and that is nothing like Kageyama in his first year of high school.
Or so he hopes.
There are roles to play, expectations heaped upon their shoulders and they, too, can break. Oikawa breaks his cheery, carefree character; breaks the neat lines of the players on the court; breaks the atmosphere; breaks Karasuno's defense like it's nothing at all. Tobio refuses to let any of it break his spirit. He doesn't let it break his concentration.
Oikawa toys with them, taunts them, and it's frustrating. Tobio can feel himself slipping back into his familiar thought patterns, wanting to push himself to increase his pace, his accuracy, to push the people around him to do the same. Tobio knows, however, that bodies aren't the only things that can be pushed until they break.
He'll have to find some way to grow, to change before he falls back into his previous self. He'll change, and maybe Oikawa will break him, maybe he will break Oikawa instead.
If Oikawa can pick himself up and carry on, Tobio thinks to himself, then surely he will be able to learn the same. It's a matter of watching him learning him. A jump serve is one thing. Mental resilience is another matter entirely.
Still, Tobio watches. He doesn't stare, blank and unassuming, but carefully, calculating. He learns.
Someday, no matter how long it might take, Tobio promises himself, he will learn how to break free.