He asks this as simply as he can, dropping the volleyball he has in his hand, choosing instead to look into the other boy’s eyes. He can’t decipher anything; no single spark or streak flashes in the other boy's deep brown eyes. Oikawa has always been perceptive but here’s a person he can’t figure out; he can’t unravel the insecurities and doubts and fears of the boy with the passive scowl, the turnip head, the boy named Kindaichi Yuutarou. Kindaichi’s eyes say nothing but his lips turn in a jagged, cruel angle and he laughs, short, bitter, curt.
(That’s a weird way of asking, Oikawa. You’re the first person that’s asked it that way.)
Oikawa doesn’t know how to interpret Kindaichi’s laugh: should he laugh along? Should he drop the subject? Should he continue talking? A hundred different responses whirl through his head and he bites his lip unconsciously. This is the first time he hasn't been able to formulate a response.
(Why’d you ask though, Oikawa?)
Kindaichi looks up at him and Oikawa struggles through his response; he’s always quick with his mouth, always poised with the right words at the tips of his lips, but now—
(If you’re worried about me going easy on Kageyama in the semi-final match because of some weird complex or attachment or whatever, don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.)
Oikawa blinks and Kindaichi drops a ball to the ground, but it's more than just gravity; there's quiet force in the way it drops that somehow helps Oikawa feel his mouth move again. He gets it now. Oikawa picks up the ball from the ground and rolls it around in his hands. There's a window open nearby and a cold breeze wafts over both of them. Kindaichi's eyes have a bit of fire in them and Oikawa smiles.
(That's good to hear. That's not the only thing I was worried about—)
(You don't have to worry.)
Kindaichi states this again, words tight and sure and Oikawa just stands there, a bit overwhelmed. He's never seen someone so vehemently against Kageyama Tobio, but he supposes that as a whole, he is the same way too. They both don't believe or quite frankly, understand the concept of Kageyama Tobio; he is someone better left misunderstood, left alone in both of their respective pasts. They're in a different point in time now.
(I chose to follow you. So did Kunimi. I never had a choice in following Kageyama. Neither did Kunimi.) Another bitter laugh, but softer. (The universe decided to put me with him, but I decided to team up with you. I didn't know a single damn thing about Kageyama and I still don't. It's better if I don't know. I don't want to question everything you and I and this team have done together.)
Kindaichi stops and clenches his hands, like he's almost unsure about his own feelings. Oikawa doesn't make eye contact. He doesn't need to.
(Good. I was just worried about you and him and—)
Oikawa waves his hands a bit uselessly, unsure of how to explain everything he's feeling, about himself and Kindaichi and Kunimi and everything that started with the proverbial King of the Court, Kageyama Tobio. He looks up, apologetically, and Kindaichi smiles, no trace of the permanent scowl on his face.
(You didn't need to worry, but thanks. Thanks for asking. And we'll be fine in this next match, no matter what. You don't need to worry about that either.)
(We're a team and that means we chose each other.)
Author's Note: I've always been super intrigued and in love with all things related to Kageyama and Kindaichi and Oikawa and Kunimi and this prompt was great! Their respective relationships and views on each other are always so fun to extrapolate and think about too. I haven't written a while so hopefully this is good!
FILL: TEAM HAIBA LEV/YAKU MORISUKE, G
(So, what did you like about him?)
A pause. A breath.
He asks this as simply as he can, dropping the volleyball he has in his hand, choosing instead to look into the other boy’s eyes. He can’t decipher anything; no single spark or streak flashes in the other boy's deep brown eyes. Oikawa has always been perceptive but here’s a person he can’t figure out; he can’t unravel the insecurities and doubts and fears of the boy with the passive scowl, the turnip head, the boy named Kindaichi Yuutarou. Kindaichi’s eyes say nothing but his lips turn in a jagged, cruel angle and he laughs, short, bitter, curt.
(That’s a weird way of asking, Oikawa. You’re the first person that’s asked it that way.)
Oikawa doesn’t know how to interpret Kindaichi’s laugh: should he laugh along? Should he drop the subject? Should he continue talking? A hundred different responses whirl through his head and he bites his lip unconsciously. This is the first time he hasn't been able to formulate a response.
(Why’d you ask though, Oikawa?)
Kindaichi looks up at him and Oikawa struggles through his response; he’s always quick with his mouth, always poised with the right words at the tips of his lips, but now—
(If you’re worried about me going easy on Kageyama in the semi-final match because of some weird complex or attachment or whatever, don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.)
Oikawa blinks and Kindaichi drops a ball to the ground, but it's more than just gravity; there's quiet force in the way it drops that somehow helps Oikawa feel his mouth move again. He gets it now. Oikawa picks up the ball from the ground and rolls it around in his hands. There's a window open nearby and a cold breeze wafts over both of them. Kindaichi's eyes have a bit of fire in them and Oikawa smiles.
(That's good to hear. That's not the only thing I was worried about—)
(You don't have to worry.)
Kindaichi states this again, words tight and sure and Oikawa just stands there, a bit overwhelmed. He's never seen someone so vehemently against Kageyama Tobio, but he supposes that as a whole, he is the same way too. They both don't believe or quite frankly, understand the concept of Kageyama Tobio; he is someone better left misunderstood, left alone in both of their respective pasts. They're in a different point in time now.
(I chose to follow you. So did Kunimi. I never had a choice in following Kageyama. Neither did Kunimi.) Another bitter laugh, but softer. (The universe decided to put me with him, but I decided to team up with you. I didn't know a single damn thing about Kageyama and I still don't. It's better if I don't know. I don't want to question everything you and I and this team have done together.)
Kindaichi stops and clenches his hands, like he's almost unsure about his own feelings. Oikawa doesn't make eye contact. He doesn't need to.
(Good. I was just worried about you and him and—)
Oikawa waves his hands a bit uselessly, unsure of how to explain everything he's feeling, about himself and Kindaichi and Kunimi and everything that started with the proverbial King of the Court, Kageyama Tobio. He looks up, apologetically, and Kindaichi smiles, no trace of the permanent scowl on his face.
(You didn't need to worry, but thanks. Thanks for asking. And we'll be fine in this next match, no matter what. You don't need to worry about that either.)
(We're a team and that means we chose each other.)
Author's Note: I've always been super intrigued and in love with all things related to Kageyama and Kindaichi and Oikawa and Kunimi and this prompt was great! Their respective relationships and views on each other are always so fun to extrapolate and think about too. I haven't written a while so hopefully this is good!