title: 500 Days
summary: The one that got away.
pairings: Oikawa / OC
note: follows the 500 days of summer format, but will be linear in the next chapter. Also, sorry if I butcher any characters lol. I actually think Oikawa has a lot of depth in Haikyuu!, which is why I wanted to write about him.
Day 8
Oikawa Tooru is many things. Handsome. Flirtatious. Analytical. Keen.
What he isn't is a good student.
He knows that, of course, and he wishes he could give more of a damn about his academics, but there's only one thing on his mind, and it has almost nothing to do with the textbooks and practice sets he's been pouring over for the past three hours.
The red-haired girl sitting next to him frowns when she notices another mistake in the equation he's been practicing. When she catches him zoning off, she decides to poke him roughly against the forehead with the back of her mechanical pencil, which causes him to utter a soft grunt of surprise.
"Are you serious? We've been over this seven times," she tells him. "You can't actually be as stupid as you look."
Well, looks could be deceiving, and Oikawa would know that better than anybody.
"That's a little harsh, don't you think, Sawa-chan?" He pouts.
Sawa frowns, "At this rate, you're going to fail the whole class. Don't you even care about your future?"
Of course he does. Oikawa has been banking on his future since the day he picked up his first volleyball.
Not the kind of future Sawa is probably expecting, but he figures she wouldn't understand anyway. From what he could surmise, she always came off as a brainiac. The life of an athlete might've gone completely over her head.
"Explain to me one more time, Sawa-chan," he puts on a smile that could win anyone over.
But Sawa just rolls her eyes, shifting her gaze to the practice set on the table, "If you're not actually going to listen, then you're wasting both our times."
Oikawa puts on another pout; this time, he adds the puppy-dog eyes for good measure, "Pretty please, Sawa-chan?"
The redhead sighs, "Please stop calling me that."
Day 203
2am.
Oikawa stares up at the apartment complex in front of him and exhales wisps of gray. The moon illuminates the better half of his face that he normally keeps prepared for all those photo ops.
The door opens.
Sawa's wearing a pair of candy-cane pajamas and a pair of reindeer slippers. She has no makeup on, and there are dark circles under her bright green eyes, but Oikawa wouldn't want to see her any other way.
There's something about the familiarity of her standing at the doorway that makes him happy. Had it not been for the sweat sticking to his skin, he might've even hugged her.
The thought is almost too trite for his taste, but the truth is, he's the kind of boy who's already built his persona with bad clichés and one-liners.
"Sawa-chan," he greets her in a singsong voice and tacks on a boyish smile for good measure.
"You could've called," she tells him, not even beating around the bush with proper greetings.
No matter; he doesn't expect her to. Sawa's never been the endearing type, anyway. She wears her thorns like a badge of honor.
"And it's Sawari for the hundredth millionth time," she adds on at the end, even though she knows it won't change his mind.
"You never pick up your phone," Oikawa tells her.
"Yeah, because you do stuff like this," Sawa says.
"Stuff like what?"
"Like coming over to my apartment at 2am in the morning."
She wears a glare of half apathy, which transforms into a look of concern when she catches sight of the bruises on his arms.
"Practicing again?" She asks vaguely.
"Mm-hmm," Oikawa replies, licking his lips.
He'd spent tonight practicing his dives. It's his own self-inflicted torture—something that he does every night in fear of falling behind. The truth is, Oikawa is afraid of falling behind.
A soft sigh escapes Sawa's lips and she motions for him to enter the apartment building, where she manages to catch the elevator door with her foot before it closes.
The ride up is relatively silent. Sawa has her arms crossed over her chest, so Oikawa can only assume she's still a little pissed off. He can't blame her. It is a school night, after all, and she was probably asleep when he woke her up.
When they arrive in front of her apartment, he notices the new Christmas floor mat sitting outside her door. There are two reindeer printed on either side.
She sticks the key in the lock, fidgets around, and opens the door.
It's a modest one-room apartment. A kitchenette in one corner, along with a square dining table. A queen-sized bed in the other corner. A stack of books sitting on the floor. A two seater couch. A wide screen television, alongside a bunch of jumbled cables and a gaming console. A shoe rack by the entrance.
Plastered on the walls are all sorts of paintings, some more abstract than others.
"Your dad's work?" Oikawa asks.
"Some of it," Sawa replies, smiling thoughtfully. She rests her weight on one foot and motions to up to sketch of a naked woman. "That's new."
The air is familiar, and Oikawa feels at home. Sometimes more than when he's actually home.
He slips off his sneakers, heading towards the bed, "Your parents could've picked out a bigger place for you, don't you think, Sawa-chan?"
"They don't have time," Sawa replies, her smile fading into a grimace. "Oi, take a shower first before you lie down. I put on new sheets today."
Oikawa pauses, and takes a seat on the couch instead. He pats the empty space next to him and motions for her to come over.
She frowns but moves forward slowly, taking a seat next to him.
Before she can say anything, Oikawa shifts, leaning his head against her shoulder. She opens her mouth to say something, but he sighs softly, interrupting her mid-thought. Sawa stiffens.
"Just for a moment, okay?" He says softly.
She hesitates, and relents, "You should really be taking better care of yourself, Tōru."
Day 1
The days begin to countdown when Oikawa spies a pink skirt standing in a sea of white blazers and yellow sweaters outside the gates of Aobajosai High School.
It follows when he catches the gaze of a pair of startling green eyes, long red hair, and a weary frown on a pair of peach tinted lips.
"She looks cute," Oikawa says casually, tugging on the strap of his messenger bag.
"She looks like money," Iwaizumi snorts.
"That's Sawari-san," Watari says. "She just transferred in last week."
The girl with the red hair catches Oikawa's gaze, making a B line towards him. She bumps shoulders with someone on the pathway but seems indifferent as she pushes past the hordes of students making their way out the open gates.
"Ne, ne—she totally looks like my type," Oikawa offers with a small grin. "Don't you think?"
The statement earns him a smack in the back of the head from Iwaizumi, which makes Watari laugh out loud.
"Oikawa-san?" The red-haired says with a slight inflection.
"Yo," he greets her by saluting with two fingers.
She hands him a white envelope and doesn't say anything else.
"Fan-mail?" Oikawa echoes vaguely, a devilish smile forming on his lips. "You're too kind."
A tick mark forms on the side of her head. "It's not fan-mail," she tells him with disgust, "it's a notice from the dean's office."
A pause. The smile vanishes from Oikawa's face.
"You've been suspended from all extracurricular activities for two weeks."
"W-What?" Iwaizumi exclaims, not sure whether to focus on Oikawa or the red-haired girl standing in front of them. "What do you mean—suspended?"
"It seems Oikawa-san failed his calculus final," she tells him as-a-matter-of-factly, shifting her gaze to the handsome brunette standing in between Iwaizumi and Watari. "Honestly, you're lucky it wasn't a month."
She turns around to leave, but Oikawa manages to grab her by the wrist, stopping her mid-step, "Oi—isn't that something you're supposed to tell me in private?"
She rolls her eyes, whipping her arm out of his grasp. She walks off indefinitely and doesn't bother looking back.
"Yeesh," Iwaizumi frowns, "what's her problem?"
"That's Sawari-san for you," Watari replies meekly. "She's really serious about her studies. Apparently, she joined the math team her first day here."
"No wonder she's on Suda-sensei's good side," Iwaizumi says tartly.
"Where did she transfer from?" Oikawa asks, pocketing the envelope in his backpack. He honestly couldn't care less, but he throws out the question anyway.
"Shiratorizawa Academy," Watari replies. "Apparently, she moved here so she could be closer to family."
Day 5
With some sweet talk and a half smile, Oikawa manages to weasel himself back into volleyball practice.
It'd taken some bargaining with the calculus teacher, Suda-sensei, and a few veiled threats about being the face of Aobajosai—something not to far away from the truth—for him to actually set up a date for a retake. Oikawa will be assigned a tutor, of course, but he figures he can worry about that later.
In the meantime, he's running up and down the courts of the newly refurbished volleyball court. He relishes in the smell of fresh wax and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the clean floorboards.
"I thought you were suspended," Iwaizuimi snorts, handing him a towel after warm-ups.
Oikawa winks in reply, "Sensei decided to change his mind. No need to worry your little heart, Iwa-chan."
At that moment, the gym doors slam open, revealing the figure of a very familiar redhead standing in the doorway. Her arms are outstretched and she's staring directly at the captain of the volleyball team.
She moves forward in long strides, her knee high boots clicking against the wooden floorboard, her long beige trench coat swaying behind her. The entire gym is sitting in silence—every single team member has their eyes on her.
Iwaizumi was right. She really did look like money.
"Sawa-chan," Oikawa manages to say stiffly. "What're you—"
"I'm your new calculus tutor. Your first tutoring session is tomorrow," she snaps, "and don't call me Sawa-chan."
Day 365
The cherry blossoms are blooming—they're blooming, and that might just be the cruelest twist of irony.
Sawa stares up at the fluttering petals with a half-glaze in her eyes that spells apathy, glancing over at the Aobajosai Volleyball team standing at the entrance of the gymnasium.
Oikawa is talking to a few first years with a flirtatious smile on his face. He makes a joke that makes them laugh out loud. Sawa can't hear it, but she stiffens visibly.
The dark-haired boy sitting next to her narrows his gaze—he almost always has his eyes narrowed. Sawa glances at him only briefly before turning her attention to the concrete ground beneath her feet.
"Do you even care about him?"
It's not something he should care about either.