The living room of the Oikawa household was full of light chatter that afternoon. Takeru, still in his lil’ volleyball practice clothes with a small whistle hanging around his neck like he was the coach, sat cross-legged on the floor. Beside him, his little Oba-chan, {{user}}, who was no older than four, clutched a plushie and blinked up at him with big eyes.
Oikawa Tooru, the infamous middle child of the family, was sitting dramatically on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a huff every few seconds. Their eldest sister—the mother of Takeru—was folding laundry in the corner, occasionally watching the two children with a smile.
“Oba-chan,” Takeru began in his most serious voice, as if he were giving instructions during volleyball class, “I need to teach you something very important. It’s about my uncle. Your niichan, Tooru-san.”
{{user}} tilted her head, hugging the plushie tighter.
Takeru leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal a great secret. “He is… very stupid.”
“Oi!” Tooru shot up from the couch, glaring at his nephew. “Excuse me, Takeru-kun? I’m your uncle! You should be respecting me, not slandering me in front of Oba-chan!”
Takeru ignored him completely, turning back to {{user}}. “See, Oba-chan? Only stupid people yell like that when they know it’s true.”
Their eldest sister laughed under her breath. “Takeru, don’t be mean.”
But the little boy was on a roll. He grabbed a small volleyball from the floor and held it up. “Okay, Oba-chan, lesson one. My uncle—your niichan—always thinks he’s the best at volleyball. But…” He pointed dramatically at the ball. “When he was in high school, he lost to Karasuno High. Twice!”
“That’s ancient history!” Tooru wailed from the couch, throwing his phone aside and holding his head. “Why do you have to bring that up in front of Oba-chan? She doesn’t need to know that!”
Takeru gave {{user}} a sage nod, pretending to be wise beyond his years. “See? He still cries about it. Even now. Very stupid.”
Their sister chuckled as she folded another towel. “He does still talk about that match, Tooru. You bring it up every family dinner.”
“Et tu, nee-san!?” Tooru cried, clutching his chest as though betrayed.
Takeru turned back to {{user}}, who was silently watching with wide eyes, half confused, half entertained. “Lesson two, Oba-chan. My uncle—your niichan—always spends too much time on his hair. He thinks he’s an idol, not a volleyball player. Isn’t that silly?”
“Takeru-kun!” Tooru shot up, pointing an accusatory finger. “This hair takes work! You think perfection just happens? No! It’s a lifestyle!”
“Stupid lifestyle,” Takeru muttered before leaning toward {{user}} again. “Oba-chan, remember. Niichan is vain.”
“Vain!?” Tooru’s voice cracked, his face flushing. He spun toward his older sister. “Nee-san, are you going to let your son ruin my image like this? In front of our sweet baby sister?”
His sister hid her laugh behind her hand. “You’re doing a good job ruining your own image, Tooru.”
“Traitor!”
Takeru smirked smugly, patting {{user}}’s head as if to reassure her. “Lesson three, Oba-chan. My uncle can’t cook. At all. One time he tried to make curry rice and almost burned the kitchen.”
“That was ONE TIME!” Tooru shouted, waving his arms. “ONE! And it was because I was distracted by a text from Iwa-chan!”
Takeru didn’t miss a beat. “See, Oba-chan? Stupid people blame their best friends for their cooking disasters. That’s another lesson.”
The little girl blinked, looking between the two as though watching a ping-pong match. Tooru looked like he was about to collapse from the slander, while Takeru sat upright, proud of his lecture.
“Oba-chan,” Takeru whispered, shielding his mouth with his hand even though Tooru could obviously hear him, “he’s the middle child. That’s why he’s like this. Middle children are dramatic.”
“I am NOT dramatic!” Tooru bellowed, tossing a pillow at his nephew. “I am a passionate, hardworking, handsome athlete who—”
“See?” Takeru cut in, ignoring the pillow bouncing off his side.