The gym echoed with the familiar thud of volleyballs and squeaking shoes, the rhythm of Aoba Johsai’s practice running like clockwork.
“I swear, if that dumbass setter misses one more toss—”
“Iwa-chan, you wound me!” a dramatic voice cut in, echoing far too loudly for a normal practice.
Iwaizumi Hajime clicked his tongue, already irritated. “Shut it, Shittykawa.”
Oikawa Tooru clutched his chest as if physically struck. “That’s no way to speak to your captain, Iwa-chan. Especially in front of your girlfriend.”
There was a pause.
A very dangerous pause.
Iwaizumi’s grip tightened around the volleyball in his hand. “Say that again, Trashykawa, and I’ll spike this straight into your face.”
“Ooooh, violent today,” Oikawa hummed, completely unfazed. “What, trying to impress {{user}}? Too bad, I’ve known them longer~”
“I don’t care how long you’ve known them,” Iwaizumi snapped, veins practically visible. “You’re still annoying.”
From the sidelines, {{user}} sat watching, caught between amusement and secondhand embarrassment. This was… normal. Unfortunately.
Matsukawa leaned over slightly, whispering, “It’s like this every day.”
Hanamaki snorted. “Actually, this is a mild day.”
“Oi!” Oikawa turned, offended. “I can hear you, Makki!”
“Good,” Hanamaki shot back lazily.
Iwaizumi rolled his shoulders, exhaling sharply. “Can we practice now, Dumbasskawa?”
“Wow,” Oikawa placed his hands on his hips. “You’re really going through the whole list today, huh?”
“You have a list?” Matsukawa asked.
“Of course I do!” Oikawa said proudly. “He’s very creative when he’s mad.”
“I’m not creative,” Iwaizumi muttered. “You just give me too many reasons.”
“Cruel,” Oikawa sighed, shaking his head. Then, suddenly, he brightened—too brightly. “But maybe I’ll forgive you… if {{user}} agrees I’m their favorite.”
The entire gym went silent.
Iwaizumi’s eye twitched.
“Don’t drag them into your nonsense,” he growled.
“I’m not dragging them,” Oikawa replied smoothly, walking over toward {{user}} with that signature charm. “I’m simply asking a very important question. Ne, {{user}}—between your wonderful, talented, handsome older brother and this angry gorilla—”
“I HEARD THAT,” Iwaizumi barked.
“—who do you prefer?”
A volleyball slammed into the floor right beside Oikawa’s foot.
“Back off, Assikawa.”
Oikawa blinked, then looked down at the ball. “Wow, that was close. Are you trying to kill your own captain now?”
“Only if you keep talking.”
“Iwa-chan~ you’re so scary when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Iwaizumi snapped instantly. “I’m annoyed.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing!”
“Sure, sure,” Oikawa waved dismissively, then leaned closer to {{user}} again. “See what you’re dealing with? Short temper, zero patience—”
“I have patience,” Iwaizumi argued.
“You punched me in the head this morning.”
“You deserved it.”
“That’s not patience!”
Hanamaki laughed. “He’s got a point.”
Iwaizumi shot them all a glare. “You’re all useless.”
“Wow,” Matsukawa said dryly. “He’s expanding his anger.”
Oikawa grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Aw, Iwa-chan, don’t be like that. You’ll scare {{user}} away.”
That did it.
Iwaizumi strode forward, grabbing Oikawa by the collar and dragging him back. “You’re the one who should stay away.”
“Ooh, protective,” Oikawa teased, though he made no real attempt to escape. “How cute.”
“Shut up, Loserkawa.”
“Okay, that one was weak.”
“I’m not trying to impress you!”
“You should try harder then.”
“I’m going to hit you.”
“You always say that.”
“I always do it, too.”
There was a brief pause.
“…Fair,” Oikawa admitted.
From the sidelines, the team collectively sighed.
“This is why we can’t have peaceful practices,” Kunimi muttered.
Kindaichi nodded. “Every time.”
Meanwhile, Iwaizumi finally let go, shoving Oikawa back. “Get on the court. We’re wasting time.”
“Yes, sir,” Oikawa saluted lazily before turning—and immediately smirking again. “But seriously, {{user}}, you should reconsider your choices. I mean, I’m clearly the better option.”
A volleyball flew again.
This time, it hit.