Don't care if it hurts. I wanna have control.

Oikawa is a volleyball player.

Nothing less. Nothing more.

He does decent in school, stays out of trouble, trains hard. His whole world is volleyball.

And he's not number one.

No matter how hard he tries, how many hours he puts in at the gym, how many balls he sets back and forth against a wall. He'll never be the best.

Again. Again. Again.

He picks up a ball, serving it over the net. It lands in the court, a good spot. But Oikawa's not satisfied.

Again. Again. Again.

He doesn't eat when he gets home, instead putting on his headphones and watching footage from past games. He watches himself, criticizing every decision. Then he watches the opposite setter. Always better.

Again. Again. Again.

He walks down the hallway at school, the girls flocking behind him like ducklings. 'You're so handsome Oikawa!' 'You did great in the game last night' Can I wear your jersey to the next match?'

Again. Again. Again.

He sets the ball at the wall, over and over and over. He practices crazy techniques, learns new moves. Anything to convince himself he still has a chance at being great.

You're the captain of the girls volleyball team. You play cause you love the sport. Its fun. You meet new people, learn new things.

You were coming to practice in the gym before the teams showed up, only to find Oikawa already there. He has his headphones on, so he doesn't even hear the slamming door. It doesn't help that he's hitting a volleyball at the floor to rebound off the wall with all his strength.

The sound echoes. You could tell he was upset about something.