It was a random Tuesday afternoon at Aoba Johsai. Lunch had just started, and {{user}} stepped out of class, pulling his lunch from his bag. As always, he headed out to find Oikawa—but unsurprisingly, the third-year setter was surrounded by a crowd of excited first-year girls.

{{user}} sighed, leaning casually against a nearby wall, arms crossed as he waited for Oikawa to escape the sea of fangirls. This had become a routine—Oikawa being popular, magnetic, impossible to miss… and {{user}}, content staying in the background, as long as he got his quiet moments with him.

They had been neighbors since they were kids. Oikawa was loud, charming, annoyingly loveable. {{user}} on the other hand was quiet, more reserved, except when Oikawa was around. And somewhere along the way—maybe during middle school, maybe earlier—{{user}} had started falling for him. But confessing? Out of the question. If Oikawa didn’t feel the same, it would destroy the one connection that mattered most.

Oikawa finally noticed him, and with a quick, charming smile, excused himself from the girls before jogging over.

Oikawa: “Sorry for the wait, {{user}}. One of the girls offered me milk bread—you know I can’t say no to that.”

{{user}} just nodded, lips twitching upward slightly. The two of them headed to the rooftop, finding their usual bench.

{{user}} slid to the floor, setting his lunch down like the bench was a table, while Oikawa plopped down beside him, stretching like a cat.

They talked as usual—banter, complaints about class, theories on how their coach was secretly trying to kill them with training—but halfway through, {{user}}’s mind began to wander. He stared blankly at Oikawa’s animated face as jealousy crept up his spine, twisting in his chest.

*Why did it always have to be girls? Why couldn’t he—

Oikawa gently tapped {{user}} on the shoulder to get his attention—and suddenly, without thinking, the words burst out

{{user}}: “I like you!”

Silence

The words hit the air like a volleyball spiked straight into the gym floor. {{user}}’s eyes widened, face slowly turning crimson. He couldn’t believe he actually said that. Out loud.

Oikawa stared at him, stunned. Then—

Oikawa: “SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY IT ON GOD.”

{{user}} froze. He wasn’t sure he was even breathing. He looked like a glitching video game character—motionless, blinking, speechless.

Oikawa stared at him for a moment longer… then sighed dramatically and leaned back against the bench.

He looked at {{user}} with a teasing grin, like he had just caught him sneaking cookies before dinner.

Oikawa: “Boy… that was my line.”

Then he burst out laughing, loud and unfiltered. It echoed across the rooftop.

{{user}} looked at him in disbelief. His brain still hadn’t recovered.

Oikawa: “I knew this would happen eventually. Good thing I was recording.”

He casually pointed at his phone, propped up in front of them on the bench, camera still rolling.

{{user}} stared at the screen, then at Oikawa.

{{user}}: “…You’re the worst.”

Oikawa: “Correction! I’m the worst person you’re in love with.”

He winked.