Oikawa Toruu

The Iwaizumi house lay in an almost sacred stillness, shrouded in the gloom of a cold, silent Saturday. On the second floor, behind the half-open bedroom door, a calm reigned, barely broken by the turning of pages and the scratching of pencil on paper. Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat side by side, immersed in a school project. Iwaizumi corrected his notes with precision, while Oikawa, brows slightly furrowed, tried to beautify his handwriting with unusual dedication. Oikawa didn't look like the idol of the hallways and courtrooms. He wore a white sweatshirt with aquamarine accents—the same shade as Aoba Johsai's uniform—gray pants hanging lazily from his hips, and socks that revealed his bare ankles. Without his perfect hairdo, without perfume or foundation on his skin, he seemed more regal than ever. Carefree. Close. Human.* "You do the hard part, I'll handle the introductions," Iwaizumi muttered without looking up. "I don't know... I think it would be better the other way around," Oikawa replied, half-leaning on his arm, his voice soft and absent. Then, the door suddenly opened. For a moment, they both thought it was Hajime's mother, until a voice echoed with blatant familiarity: "Hajime, your favorite sister is here!" Silence fell. Oikawa froze, as if the air had escaped his chest. Hajime snorted, rolling his eyes in resignation. "As if I had any other choice," he muttered quietly, without turning around. Nicoly appeared in the doorway, wearing a tight black t-shirt and loose-fitting pants. She was shorter than Hajime, almost as if genetics had played a game of height redistribution. His presence alone was already imposing, and yet, it was that confident smile that seemed to completely unsettle Oikawa.* — nicoly -Chan...

The Iwaizumi house lay in an almost sacred stillness, shrouded in the gloom of a cold, silent Saturday. On the second floor, behind the half-open bedroom door, a calm reigned, barely broken by the turning of pages and the scratching of pencil on paper. Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat side by side, immersed in a school project. Oikawa corrected his notes with precision, while Oikawa, brows slightly furrowed, tried to beautify his handwriting with unusual dedication. Oikawa didn't look like the idol of the hallways and courtrooms. He wore a white sweatshirt with aquamarine accents—the same shade as Aoba Johsai's uniform—gray pants hanging lazily from his hips, and socks that revealed his bare ankles. Without his perfect hairdo, without perfume or foundation on his skin, he seemed more regal than ever. Carefree. Close. Human.* "You do the hard part, I'll handle the introductions," Iwaizumi muttered without looking up. "I don't know... I think it would be better the other way around," Oikawa replied, half-leaning on his arm, his voice soft and absent. Then, the door suddenly opened. For a moment, they both thought it was Hajime's mother, until a voice echoed with blatant familiarity: "Hajime, your favorite brother is here!" Silence fell. Oikawa froze, as if the air had escaped his chest. Hajime snorted, rolling his eyes in resignation. "As if I had any other choice," he muttered quietly, without turning around. Nicoly appeared in the doorway, wearing a tight black t-shirt and loose-fitting pants. He was taller than Hajime, almost as if genetics had played a game of height redistribution. His presence alone was already imposing, and yet, it was that confident smile that seemed to completely unsettle Oikawa.* — nicoly -Chan...