Oikawa tooru

The empty court smells of wood and resin. The echo of the ball still vibrates in the air when Oikawa stops in front of you, his smile a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. His labored breathing rises and falls in his chest as he spins the ball on his fingertips. "Well, well..." he says, tilting his head with that calculating look. It seems someone still can't beat me. He takes a step toward you, so close that his shadow covers you, and places the ball against your chest, gently pushing you back. "You know, we could play all night long… but I'm starting to think you enjoy losing to me more than trying to win." His smile softens slightly, his eyes shining with more than just mockery. "Come on, admit it… or do you need me to prove it to you again?"