Chapter 1: Summer Depression

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Getting along with people had never been your best aspect. You found others annoying, especially when they talked about things they knew nothing about; for some reason, everyone had an opinion on a subject they clearly were not very well informed on. It infuriated you to no end.

If you didn’t know, either find out, or keep your mouth shut. It wasn’t that hard.

But no, humans seemed to enjoy acting like they were fucking Google. Which is why you avoided speaking in general, because you knew you’d end up in an argument.

Though due to this, you became a nobody. Kids in your year group knew your name, but didn’t know a single thing about you; a face in the crowd, someone so unimportant that a teacher wouldn’t notice if you came to class late.

Until, well, you did get in a fight. A rather big one at that.

On the second day of your first week as a first year in Aoba Johsai high school, you ended up getting in a huge scuffle with a girl in your class. Her name was Fukura Himari, and you didn’t quite remember what had started the argument; you just recalled being so angry that you stormed up to her in the corridor, and used her shirt to slam her into a locker.

Next thing you knew, you two were being pulled apart by teachers, still slinging insults at each other, and still wanting to teach each other a lesson. In the nurse’s room, you refused to talk, until you were taken to the principal’s office, and were given a stern lecture.

“It’s only your second day here,” you remembered her saying, with a frown on her face, “you can’t expect to start a brawl in the hallway and just get away with it!”

You scowled, staring at your feet, ignoring the throbbing from your now bruised eye, which you now couldn’t open.

Himari only huffed, folding her arms, and shifted her weight onto her left foot, since you’d almost crushed her right one, after stomping on it aggressively.

“You two are very different people,” your principal sighed, staring at your school records, which had been laid out on her desk. “Fukura, you’re a very talented young lady, with a gift for mathematics, with generally high grades all round. You also seem to be quite popular among your year group in middle school, many of whom have transferred here with you, is that correct?”

“I do know many people,” Himari conceded, though her body language changed, signifying that she was perhaps not fond of that fact.

“And (L/n) (Y/n)... your grades are falling around the average mark, since you focus more of your effort into playing the violin. You also, apparently, do not have any friends. None at all, even from middle school?”

“None,” you repeated without hesitation, a slight scowl crossing your face. Wasn’t it common knowledge that you weren’t a people person?

“That’s…” the principal trailed off, scanning your expression. “Is there anything going on at home?”

(Really? That question of all ones? Piss off.)

“No,” you replied instantaneously, maybe even a bit defensively; Himari glanced at you, noticing your immediate stiffening at the query.

“I see,” the teacher muttered, “well, I suppose there’s only one thing for it. I’m going to be putting the both of you in an extracurricular activity.”

You grimaced, fists clenched at your sides, the notion of being around more people after school making you sick and angry to your stomach. Fuck, you would rather have anything than that! Why that of all things?

Himari frowned, fiddling with her skirt anxiously. “Sensei, I don’t think that’s a good idea—” she tried to talk, but was cut off.

“You two are going to both be the manager’s for the school’s volleyball team,” she decided, opening up her computer, presumably to write an email.

(You hate this so fucking much.)

“Oh,” Himari somewhat relaxed, clearly having expected worse, before coming to a realisation, panicking, and throwing an accusatory finger your way; “Wait, with (L/n)?!”

(Dumb bitch, did she not hear it the first time round?)

“Yes,” the principal answered. “We haven’t had a manager for quite some time for the volleyball team, so having two will be quite useful.”

Himari whipped round to you, her green eyes now narrowed and furious, with frustrated tears welling up in them. “I hate you,” she spat out, her hands shaking with untold rage.

It was only a few mere words, but it rubbed you the wrong way; and with a countenance just as fierce as hers, you scoffed in reply, “I hate you too.”

A/n: welcome to another fic where I thirst over Oikawa.

There are some differences: the reader notably struggles a lot more w social interaction more than my other book, and is also much more blunt and could even be described as short tempered.

Another difference i will be making is that the new supposed antagonist of this story, Fukara Himari, isn't going to be irredeemable like Rin was. You two are you going to ✨develop✨ together.

Oh yeah, and the reader is a violinist, cuz I need somewhere to get out my frustrations about playing that fucking instrument.

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