Whom Made Me Fly

"If you're going to hit it, hit it until it breaks..."

- Oikawa Tooru

—

The dead of the night,

Happy laughs once used to fill the air, now all the stray cat had to do was to stare at the figure of a high-schooler, sporting a mop of dark hair. Duffle bag now on the dirty local park's floor, his usual training gear scattered around. Drip,

drip,

drip

Goes from his sapphire-like orbs down the dry earth.

Possibly it was too much to bear for him.

Explained by how Tobio never really thought about things.

And knowing a character like him, Tobio would never think of anything else other than a certain sport. So if he's occupied and rendered to a fit of deep thinking, the receiving end of those thoughts must be that important.

And it was none other than Oikawa Tooru himself.

Oikawa, he was a stupid senpai, sure he was mean to him. He will never forget the fear that loomed over him the first time his arms outstretched to harm Tobio's little self. He was young then, bound within a number, and of cluelessness and curiosity. But what had him attached was that Tooru simply was shining in his eyes.

He loved volleyball, possibly and it was something of no sense to gauge and compare his feelings towards the sport and his other interest, the bottom line was it simply revolved on volleyball.

And that's where he met that nasty alien loving brunette.

And worse yet it was the stage in his life where came forth stupid judgments.

He thought, as his heart pounded.

Perhaps, if one's chest hurts this much a conflict must've been going inside his being.

He asked a reliable person then, and found that his speculations weren't even an inch wrong.