Certainty | Oikawa Tooru

Fourth Act

Oikawa stepped through the frosted automatic doors separating the baggage carousel from the arrival hall, clutching onto the grip of his suitcase with one hand as he fumbled to zip up his light blue jacket with the other. He stopped in his tracks, heaving a sigh as he gave in and lifted his hand off the handle and surrendered to his pride to use both hands to zip the zipper up to the top. With the cold metal now just grazing at the skin of his chin, he reached up to reclaim the passport he had clamped in his mouth and stepped into the loud, zealous atmosphere of the arrival concourse.

He watched as the faces of the people he had shared his flight with light up in rapturous glee as they ran into the awaiting arms of their loved ones — reunited once again under the promise of the flight plan. He bit down on his lips as a forced smile stretched across his face; if only that could be the case for him as well.

He found his mind wandering back to you at the thought. You had posted more photos since the one he saw of you smiling by the beach. You seemed happy — he wanted to believe that you had been happy.

And he didn't want to admit it, for he was sure that such a possibility would have brought along nothing save for despair, but he too had hoped for the miracle that perhaps you had uncovered the well shrouded secret of his return, and that his surprised eyes would meet yours as soon as he took a couple more steps into the hall.

He looked back up as he wiped the expression off of his face, reverting back to the blank slate that had sat on previously. Oikawa walked over to the side and took out his phone from his pocket, dialling the number sitting at the top of his call history.

Entertaining thoughts as dangerous as the one that had just popped into his mind was far too risky. He was a professional — he couldn't let such irrational thoughts get the best of him and influence his performance. Besides, it wasn't as if his reason for return was anything admirable either. It was a forced vacation of sorts; a yell from his coach to "take it easy for once" and to "enjoy what life had to offer".

He let out a bitter laugh as he leaned against the wall, waiting for his friend to pick up on the other end. It seemed as if it had been just yesterday when he had lectured his rival that taking breaks was part of training as well. Call it divine retribution, but it was almost poetic that he now stood in Narita International Airport's arrival concourse having been sent home to do just that after overdoing it at practice for months on end.

It wasn't that he didn't want to enjoy it — it was just that everything about life itself reminded him of you. Volleyball served as a way of escape; perhaps even a form of self-inflicted penance for having left you those many moons ago. Enjoy what life had to offer? It simply didn't feel right to do so; he didn't feel like he even had the right to do so — not when he was haunted by the grimace of a smile you had seen him off with.

The beeping of the busy tone on the other hand dragged him out of his thoughts, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance at the realization that his call had been forwarded to his friend's voicemail inbox. Perhaps the hope of seeing you at the airport would remain as nothing but a pipe dream, but he had full confidence in his childhood best friend to be here to greet him on arrival and drive him back home to Miyagi.

With a scowl, he ripped his phone from his ear and pressed down hard on the red button before tapping quickly on the number again to dial once more. Did Iwaizumi seriously want him to take the train home? After such a long flight?

"Tōru."

He frowned, turning over to the side towards the direction of the voice that had just called his name. That wasn't Iwaizumi...?

Oikawa lowered his phone from his ear, pressing the side button to lock the device and pocketing it in his team jacket as his eyes widened in disbelief.