Chapter 12: He Loves Inori More Than He Hates…
It was burning a hole in his pocket. All week it had sat there, companion to the good luck charm from his sister from junior high and the glow-in-the-dark jellyfish keychain he'd purchased from the aquarium. How many times had he read it now? A hundred? More? However many times it was, the frequent folding and unfolding of the little slip of paper had left the creases worn and the edges curled. The kanji was smudged and a bit faded from being transferred from pocket to gym bag to nightstand and back into his pocket every day.
When he woke up, before his class in the mornings, in the club room, Tooru read and reread the words to himself, sometimes mouthing along with them, still trying to process their meaning. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about them: a little scared, a little confused, and, strangely, a lot happy. But even more than that, he was sad and angry and tired. Why, after so many days of silence and separation had she ambushed him with this of all things? It baffled him even as it elated him that she was even talking to him again after…well, after he had acted petty.
The entire week that she returned from the training camp, he was ashamed to admit that he was avoiding her a bit. She seemed to sense it and kept her distance, because she's such a kind and empathetic person and could read him so well. It was irritating him. So of course, he reacted by acting like a child. At least, that's what Iwaizumi told him he was doing.
He sighed and shook his head. When was he going to stop acting like such a fool for Inori Yuna? It seemed to be a regular theme with him lately and it was getting old. Couldn't they just be friends again? His thoughts directed again to the confession letter. Yeah….chances of them remaining just friends were becoming increasingly slim.
But what confounded him was why now? He knew Inori and this was not how she operated. He wasn't stupid enough to miss the disdain on her face each time he had told Iwa-chan about another girl confessing to him with a letter. He never accepted them, of course. He had no time for that. Well, with the exception of that one time where he took a girl out as a favor to a teammate, but they didn't last very long. He realized he hadn't thought about that girl in a long time. In fact, they had broken up the same week Inori had been hospitalized, which had quickly taken up all his attention. He shook himself back to his train of thought: Inori hated love letters.
Which is why he was so surprised to receive one from her.
If he looked deep inside himself, he realized he was sort of…excited. It wasn't like receiving a letter from her was the worst thing in the world. He had to admit Yuna was funny. And sweet. And sarcastic and thoughtful and goofy. If he really felt like admitting it, even Tooru couldn't deny that Inori Yuna would be considered pretty-
"Oikawa!" Tooru blinked as his concentration–what was left of it–broke. He looked over at his coach, who was waving.
"What's up, Coach?"
Irihata gave him a searching look. "Is everything alright with you, son?"
Frowning, Tooru replied, "Yes, sir, everything's fine." He wasn't that distracted, was he?
"Are you sure? You seem a little out of it." Guess that answers that question.
"Sorry, sir, I'll focus up." Coach just stared at him.
"I don't think I have to remind you how important these next few weeks will be leading up to Qualifiers. This isn't just a game for you; it's your future, Oikawa. I know that. I know you know that." Tooru stared at his sneakers. "And if you want a shot at Nationals this year, I expect you to act like it." Tooru flinched internally, but not a single bit of the new roiling emotion in his heart showed on his face. He clenched his jaw and nodded once.
"Yes, Coach."
Joining the lineup once more, he ignored the concerned looks his friends threw his way and at each other. Get it together, Oikawa. Tooru spent the rest of practice attempting to shove away thoughts of Inori, all while trying to find ways to recover his usual ice-cold court focus. He was left reeling by his lost composure for the rest of the day. As he was packing his stuff away into his locker, a realization slammed into him like one of Iwaizumi's spikes to the chest.
Nothing, nothing, in Tooru's life had ever come close to being as important as volleyball, to taking priority over the blood, sweat, and tears he had put in for years. Everything–every sleepless night watching film, every early morning run, every cancelled weekend plan, all the stress, hardship, and fleeting joy–was thrown into volleyball without a second thought.
Until Yuna.
She always had been (and he was sure always would be) the exception to all of that. She got under his skin, overrode his brain, and captured his heart in ways only volleyball had ever been able to. But he was coming to the crushing realization that there was only going to be room for one of them.
If Tooru wanted to accomplish his goal–his lifelong dream–he realized with heart-wrenching clarity that something had to give. He rested his head against the cool metal of his locker and blew out the shakiest breath of his life.
He was going to have to give up Inori Yuna.
It was burning a hole in her pocket. She had been meaning to give it to him for ages, ever since they visited the shrine together. But it just sat there, a companion to the jellyfish keychain that she hadn't gotten around to putting on her school bag and a list of new signals for the managers to teach the players. She had tried to make sure that it wouldn't get wrinkled and bent–it had spent quite a lot of time being toted around on buses and hastily shoved into uniform pockets.
She had planned to give the charm to him when she returned, thinking he had probably cooled his head in the time she had been gone. It was more than enough time for Iwaizumi to knock him around a little to make him clean up his act. However it seemed like he still didn't want to talk to her, even when she returned. So she gave him space. It was fine. It's not like she needed his company or anything. She'd spent most of her life not caring what the great and mighty Oikawa Tooru thought of her; she could survive a few more days of the silent treatment. A part of Yuna realized that she could probably just leave it in his desk or his locker, but a selfish part of her just wanted to see the look on his face when she gave it to him.
For me, Inoricchi? Aw you shouldn't have.
Although, if Yuna was being honest, she was avoiding him for other reasons. She still wasn't sure she could look him in the eyes after the dream she'd had. It had been way too real. She was still confused, a little off-put, but also a little…sad? She had to admit that the dream had been, well, nice. He had been so sweet and his hair was so soft…
Yuna shook her head as she walked to the volleyball gym, finally having a moment away from the team to confront Oikawa. Her shoes crunched on the gravel path between the baseball field and the gym. Upon entering the gym, she immediately spotted Oikawa's athletic frame serving ball after ball over the net. If anyone asked how intently she had been watching the sweat roll down his temple and down his neck, she'd deny it.
Get it together, Inori, she chastised herself. She was on a mission after all. Stepping away from the doorway where she had been loitering in. Oikawa caught sight of her and trudged over to Iwaizumi, who offered him a towel. Yuna greeted Iwaizumi to avoid watching Oikawa. She really was hopeless at this point.
"How's the team looking?" She gave a cursory glance over the spikers and blockers, noting Inamakki and Matsukawa hard at work wrangling the first-years. She turned back to the Captain. "Think they'll be up to snuff for Qualifiers?"
Oikawa's towel remained flopped over his head while he perched his hands on his hips in his distinctly sassy way. "They'd better be. If they disappoint me, there will be hell to pay."
"Ouch."
Yuna could tell that Iwaizumi had resigned himself to watching the conversation, no longer willing to play referee to Oikawa's nonsense. His lack of involvement let the conversation lull and they stood there awkwardly for a moment before Oikawa cleared his throat.
"I have something to give you."
"Can we talk?"
They spoke over each other, the silent staring after just as awkward. Yuna knew they weren't going to get anywhere this way and Oikawa seemed to share the sentiment and he jerked his head for them to go outside. Yuna tossed a look at Iwaizumi and he raised an eyebrow as if to ask, Do you need me to come? Yuna shook her head slightly, and followed the Captain outside the gym. When they had reached a spot where they wouldn't be within earshot of the players, Oikawa stopped and leaned against the wall of the building. Even with his nonchalant posture, Yuna could tell something was bothering him. His face was a careful mask of ice, his usual mischievous twinkle hidden behind the calculating gaze directed at her now.
"What's wrong?" She wasted no time getting to the point. Giving him the charm could wait just a moment.
Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Nothing really. I guess I'm just surprised how calm you are, given the circumstances."
Yuna tilted her head and her brow pinched. "What circumstances?"
"You know," Oikawa shrugged. "You and me?"
Yuna blinked. "What about us?"
"You know," Oikawa huffed, "your letter."
Yuna still had no clue what he was talking about and stared at him blankly while he rifled through his pockets before coming up with a folded letter. One with her name written across the front.
He handed Inori the letter. She took it slowly, looking at him cautiously, as if it might bite her, then down at the strangely fluid and flowery handwriting. He scanned her face as her eyes traced back and forth across the page, her expression giving away absolutely nothing. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up at him through her bangs. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to brace herself.
"Oikawa…" she bit her lip, chewing on it as she considered her next words. "I didn't write this," she finished.
Tooru felt time stop for a moment. The air in his lungs seemed to solidify, and for once, his ever-churning mind had grinded to a halt.
"What?" he wheezed out.
"This isn't my letter," she said. "I didn't write it." Inori took a step closer, and while Tooru wanted nothing more than to run away as fast as he was able, his feet were rooted to the ground. "Here." Tooru was brought back to the moment by Inori handing him the letter and a list she had pulled from her uniform pocket. "Look," she said, pointing to the list. "These are a list of signals that the junior managers are supposed to teach the first-years. See? It doesn't match the handwriting of the letter at all."
Sure enough, the kanji of Inori's note was much neater, without the extra flourishes and hearts in the letter.
Tooru could feel himself spiraling further and further away. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to confront her about the letter and let her down gently…then he would have his excuse to let her go completely. Though for some reason it felt like she was the one who was letting him down. Why did it hurt so much? Shouldn't he be relieved that the letter wasn't hers and he didn't have to break her heart like dozens of girls who had tried the same method? Why was he so…so…disappointed?
He had to leave.
Once again, Tooru found himself unable to keep his emotions in check when it came to Yuna. He spun on his heel and started to march off.
"Hey," Inori called after him. "Where are you going? Don't you want to figure out who gave this to you?"
He paused and turned his head just enough so his words could be heard. "I don't have time to deal with every ditzy girl that falls in love with me, Inoricchi. Some people aren't worth the time." Tooru had every intention to strut off like some cool anime character into the sunset, people making way for the aura he exudes that screams back off.
His intention was not to get hit in the back of the head with a shrine charm. Tooru whirled in the direction of the missile-launched object, which now lay partially crumpled at his feet, an accurate analogy for the way his heart felt at seeing the expression on the face of the only girl–he was quickly realizing–he'd ever love.
Fury wasn't the right word for it.
Sadness wasn't either.
He'd seen both of those expressions on her face before, both of them aimed at him (when was he going to stop hurting this patient, wonderful girl?) throughout the years.
No, this was something he'd only seen glimpses of this in her eyes before and it never failed to shake him. But now he saw it in all its gut-wrenching rawness:
Betrayal.
Devastation.
Heartbreak.
"When are you going to pull your head out of your own ass and actually start thinking about other people?" she spat. He jumped as if shocked, not just from the strangeness of her actually swearing at him, but the sheer venom in her voice. "You're so wrapped up in your own arrogance and the solid fact that everyone just 'loves and adores' Oikawa Tooru that you wouldn't know what love looked like if it threw something at your head!"
What.
That– that could be right. She didn't mean… She couldn't possibly…
"I was just starting to… I thought I could finally admit…"
Starting to what? Admit what? What is going on here?!
Tears rolled down her face in endless streams. He was so tired of seeing her cry, and the realization that the only times he had ever seen her cry were because of him slammed him like a spike to the chest.
"Well I guess we're both in the habit of making assumptions about each other, now aren't we?" He really needed to stop talking. His habit of saying the absolute worst thing at the worst time was getting a little old. But his mouth wasn't getting the memo from his heart.
Inori let out a noise that was a cross between an indignant groan and an infuriated scream. He blinked, not expecting the new level of female rage. "You're such an idiot, Oikawa!" She stopped for a moment to yank her awful sunset-colored sneakers—he truly did hate that ridiculous color on her—and threw it at him in the same manner she had with the shrine charm. He was so distracted by the shoe he almost missed the fact that she had reverted back to using his surname. "The biggest idiot in Japan! Who do you think you're talking to, huh? I'm not some two-bit fangirl that you can flippantly toss your cruel words at and expect me to get over it. Nor am I one of your stupid volleyball rivalries that you can just smash on the court. I'm your real friend from your real life!"
He didn't even know how to respond. He couldn't argue with a single thing she said and his brain had finally got the message that perhaps he should shut up. "Inoricchi…"
"Shut up!" She said, throwing her other shoe (what was her deal with throwing things?) but it barely even reached him. "You don't get to call me that when you won't even give me the respect of telling me the real reason you're being a complete moron." He stepped back from the way her words kept hitting him in the chest, unlike her forgotten shoe. "You don't think I'm worth your time? Fine. Then you won't get it anymore." She spun on her bare foot, ponytail flying with the finality of her words.
Tooru started to feel scared then. He knew he messed up but now he was starting to realize the real ramifications of what he was—or had been—about to do. "Wait, Yuna-" She waved him off with a flip of her wrist.
"I don't want to hear it right now, Oikawa. When you can get your act together, then maybe we can talk, but right now one of us has to do something before you say something even stupider than you already have."
Tooru couldn't really argue with that. And, once again, he was left wondering why he was the one feeling heartbroken after a fight he started.
He was the worst. Actually a terrible human being. Scum of the earth.
Apparently plenty of other people thought so as well. Iwaizumi kept giving him black looks throughout practice and Tooru pretended to miss the knowing glances shared between Makki and Mattsun whenever he came back from zoning out.
And for all the years that he bemoaned having to see Yuna everywhere, she was surprisingly hard to find when she didn't want to be found. It definitely wasn't for a lack of trying on his part, he looked for her every given chance. He waited for her outside the baseball club room but she always seemed to slip past him in a crowd of players. He never saw her at Takeru's volleyball club, though the twins never missed a practice. It made sense that she avoided their usual hangouts, at least he thought that's what she was doing. Turns out he was the one avoiding them, though he truly had not intended to. The irony of the situation was that he spent so much time chasing her down, assuming she was avoiding all their usual haunts, that he kept missing her completely when she hadn't altered her routine at all.
The only indication that she actually wanted to avoid him was when he finally worked up the guts (and the remorse) to go to her house. He knew she was home because he had waited around the corner of her house until Iwaizumi left from walking her home. He'd tried not to feel jealous; after all it was his own fault that his two best friends were upset at him. He slunk up to the doorway, shoulders pinned to his ears like a kicked puppy and rang the bell. Yuna opened the door, blinked at him once, and promptly shut the door in his face.
Okay. He deserved that.
He rang the bell again and heard a flurry of voices resulting in Yuna's sister opening the door, her silver gaze flashing over his form curiously, if a bit warily. He coughed.
"Can I speak to Inoricchi?"
She folded her arms and leaned against the door. "That depends. Does she want to speak to you?" When he didn't respond, she nodded, as if she had come to a conclusion. "Alright, well I won't make her talk to you, but I can deliver a message?"
Tooru sighed, figuring it was as good a chance as any, seeing as she wasn't reading any of his messages. He mulled over a million different things he could tell her, a thousand different ways he wanted to beg her to listen to him. He must've been silent for a while because Yuna's sister cleared her throat. "Just tell her…" He bit his lip, feeling his throat constrict with tears he absolutely refused to indulge. "Tell her I'll do whatever it takes to make this right. To make us right." He took one more deep breath. "And tell her she was right, too."
Tooru spun on his heel and strode away from the Inori household before the sister could even react or close the door. He managed to make it around the corner before he let the burn in his eyes roll down his cheeks.
Kaori closed the front door and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Yuna where she had stood behind the door.
"Well?" Her sister asked. "Did you hear what you needed to hear?"
Yuna stared at her socked feet and shook her head. Without saying another word, she slunk up the stairs to her room, not seeing the concern in her sister's eyes as she left.
Tooru was already having a rough day before his idiot friends got involved. Yuna had left that morning with the baseball team. She still hadn't given him the chance to make their friendship right and now he would have to wait days, if not a few weeks, to talk to her again. He was just praying to every god and spirit he could think of that it wouldn't be too late.
Enter Makki and Mattsun and their incredible stupidity. He sat at his desk, arms folded, giving them a carefully cool stare. They had pulled up chairs to face him and were now finding interesting details in the wood of the desk.
"Let me get this straight," he said, leaning back nonchalantly, which was a lie, because Tooru did everything chalantly. "You two, in your ever-present social wisdom, believed that the only way to make sure Inoricchi and I stayed good friends was to trick us into falling in love with each other, and you decided the best course of action was to fake a confession letter?" The two volleyball players said nothing so Tooru leaned in again. "I said, did I get that straight?" They nodded. He huffed out an indignant breath. "Well, that's just great. You morons are unbelievable."
They shared a look before Makki piped up. "We didn't think you'd get together right away…"
"Yeah, but we also didn't think you would blow it up in your own face," added Mattsun. Makki elbowed him as Tooru gave them an unimpressed look.
"Look," Makki said, "we're sorry, which is why we're telling you now." Makki glanced at Mattsun again before continuing. "But also…Nationals are coming up soon and, well, Coach is worried about you. We all are. So we wanted to see if there was anything we could do to help."
A derisive laugh that sounded more like a snort came from the doorway to the classroom. Tooru, Makki, and Mattsun looked up to see Keiko, Yuna's underclassman, leaning against the doorframe. "What are you doing here?" Tooru asked tiredly.
Keiko flounced up to his desk. "I came to see what a wilted ball of misery you were, and I have to say, I'm not impressed. You're not nearly as pathetic as I was hoping."
Staring at the little screen on her phone, jellyfish charm hanging off the end, Yuna hated herself for pressing the button to listen to Oikawa's voicemails. The bus jolted, almost making her lose her grip on the cell but she managed to hold on. Testu gave her a sad look, knowing what she was listening for. She kept searching for two little words; in every message, two words.
I'm sorry.
They never came.
He talked about everything. He talked about nothing.
He said she was right. He said he was stupid. He said he missed her.
He said he knew what she wanted him to say but he couldn't say it yet. But he would show her. He said she would know.
She wasn't so sure.
The whole team sat and watched the Qualifiers broadcast as the pale aqua jerseys filtered across the screen.
Yuna didn't know how they had gotten away with it. There were regulations for jerseys and uniforms, shoes, banners, everything. But there it was, plain as day.
She looked at Tetsu, eyes wide, pleading. "The next train to the arena leaves in thirty minutes. It's a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest station," he said wryly.
"Then I'll run."
Tetsuya smiled at her back as she ran for the door, the angel wings fluttering on the back of her manager's jacket matching those stamped on the back of the uniform of Aobajohsai's volleyball captain.
She was absolutely shaking with adrenaline to get to the gym. After an anxiety-filled ride on the train while trying to watch the boys' game on her phone, she sped her way to the arena, which was mercifully close to the station. She found the signs for observation points of the courts quickly, practically throwing herself over the railing in an attempt to find the aqua jerseys she wanted to see so frantically. Yuna had arrived just in time to see Oikawa run to save the ball from out of bounds, slipping desperately on the polished court. He hit his knees but managed to save the ball. Cheering erupted from the crowd as the game's tempo picked up speed but Yuna felt her heart crawl into her mouth. He had landed on his knee. His bad knee. Hard.
She needed to be down there. She needed to get him off that court. She just….needed him.
He was such an idiot for making her worry about him, an even bigger idiot for not letting her wish him luck, a competitive idiot, a prideful idiot…but dammit she kind of loved that idiot.
Yuna sprinted past the crowds but quickly backpedaled when she spotted Karasuno's little manager, recognizing her from the few times they've had practice matches. Sho-kun was always talking about how nice she was. Perfect. "Yachi-san!" The little blonde squeaked at Yuna's sudden appearance.
"Y-yes?"
"I need your help. I need you to get me on the court."
"But I can't-"
"Please," she begged, staring directly into the small girl's brown eyes, trying to convey as much determination as she could into the interaction. "It's an emergency."
Yachi gulped and nodded. "A-alright, I'll try my best." Yuna thanked her as they both darted off once again. Yuna followed the petite girl through a series of hallways that she never would have managed to navigate on her own.
I have to get to him. I have to stop this.
"Is there something wrong with your team?" Yachi asked as they neared the staff entrance to the court, having figured out that Yuna was clearly from Aobajohsai, not Karasuno. "Are you their manager? I assume that's why you need to be there so badly but…" Yachi glanced at her doubtfully. Yuna just shook her head. "Oh," Yachi said. "Then…Why do you need to get down there? What's the big emergency?"
"I'm pulling Oikawa from the game."
"WHAT?!" Yachi screeched and stumbled a little. Yuna reached out to steady the tiny girl before she pitched forward onto her face. She turned her big brown eyes on Yuna incredulously. "B-but your team–"
"Will do just fine without him, I trust them."
"But the match! It's almost over! You can't pull him out now-"
"Yes, I can, and I will," Yuna cut off the other manager. "I'm not letting him sacrifice his knee for this."
"But if they lose while he's out…"
"I don't care!" Yuna burst out, pent up tears finally trailing down from the corners of her eyes. She was so close and she had come so far. "I don't care about the game, or Nationals, or Bakakawa's stupid rivalry! If he keeps playing the way he is now, it won't matter how much he loves volleyball because he'll never play again! It doesn't matter if they win now if he can't play the next game or the one after that because it'll be too late. I don't care if he hates me even more because he loves volleyball more than anything!" Yuna realized she was probably scaring this poor first-year, who was essentially a stranger, with her crying and hysterics. She couldn't really bring herself to care.
I don't care. I don't care about his dumb rivalry or his stupid vendetta. I don't care about Nationals or if they win or lose. All I care about is him.
Yuna hadn't realized she had voiced that last part out loud until she saw Yachi's face change. Her expression softened and a glimmer of understanding entered her eyes. "Alright," she said softly. She pushed open the court doors. Yachi quickly explained to the adults keeping them out that they were both managers for the teams and that there was an emergency that they had to take care of. It was technically true but Yuna wasn't paying attention enough to worry about it because all she could think about was him. And getting him off that court. But now it didn't matter.
The game was over.
They had lost.
The last face Tooru wanted to see right after the worst loss of his life (that was a lie, he'd already lost much, much worse) was the almost-scowling, immovable rock that was Ushijima Wakatoshi. He was rambling on about the strongest teams in that horribly monotone, somehow sarcastic voice, and Tooru was just about fed up with it. He tuned in just long enough to hear Ushijima say something about his pride getting him absolutely nowhere–the nerve of this hulking tree–and that was the last straw for him. He fired off some vague smarm about Ushijima having to watch his back against Karasuno before defending his own.
"So you had better remember this worthless pride!" Tooru spun on his heel and stalked off, head held high. The figure standing at the end of the hallway gave him pause, staring at him with her big grey eyes. He glanced back but Ushiwaka was already gone. Turning back, he pasted on a big smile, the only thing he could think to do in this situation. "Hey Inoricchi. Looks like we lost this one, too." He chuckled ruefully and dropped his eyes to the shiny floor. The gentle tread of footsteps preceded the pair of atrocious orange sneakers that entered his line of sight. He huffed a more humorous laugh this time. They truly were awful shoes. Finally finding the courage to raise his eyes, Tooru's vision was filled with grey as she stared wordlessly at him. His smile waved under her gaze but he held the contact. This wasn't the first staring contest they'd had with each other.
Tooru smirked in victory when she blinked but his moment of gloating quickly turned to surprise when she hugged him around his midsection. Tackled was more like it but he would have been startled either way. He looked down at the dark head pressed to his chest, contrasting starkly against his bright jersey. He let his arms come around her narrow shoulders–at least, they felt narrow to him.
"You were amazing." He felt the vibrations from her words in his chest more than he heard them.
"Still wasn't good enough to win," he mumbled back, not really intending for her to hear him. Inori pulled back sharply and arrested his gaze once more with her burning stare.
"It was enough. It was more than enough." Tooru started to look away but was stopped by her hand on his cheek.
"We didn't win though."
She shook her head. "That doesn't mean you aren't good enough. You are good enough. Why do you think your team made you captain? Why do you think Ushiwaka–" Tooru snorted– "wanted you to go to Shiratorizawa? Because you are good enough. You've always done whatever it takes to improve, to the point of hurting yourself. No team is invincible. They all know that. You should know that. You've spent years proving it. You. Are. Enough." Moving her hand from his cheek, she poked him in the chest to emphasize those last three words, as if trying to shove them into his heart so he would finally understand.
He wouldn't though.
He would never understand what this girl–this wonderful, fiery, bright-eyed, smart-mouthed girl–saw in him. He didn't understand how he was enough.
Tooru dropped his forehead to hers, desperately fighting back the tears that had been threatening for a while now. He wouldn't cry in front of her. No over this.
"Tooru."
Her voice carried so many things with that one word: a gentle command to stop holding back; steady assurance that she was there for him; empathy for his loss…and something else. Something warmer.
"Yuna."
His voice cracked. Hot tears traced tracks through the dried sweat on his face. That's right; she'd seen it all before. Worse than this, even. This girl had seen him at his lowest, hurt and broken, jealous and scared, frustrated and angry. She had seen and she understood.
So he cried.
He cried for the missed opportunity at Nationals.
He cried for the end of his time with his team.
He cried for the student who had surpassed him.
He cried for Iwaizumi.
And he cried for himself.
"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm so, so sorry." Her own shoulders shook a little at his final admission, the one she deserved a thousand times over.
Yuna held him through it all. She wiped away the tears and stroked his hair. She held him as he shuddered through the quiet, broken sobs, gathering all the pieces as they broke and slowly, one at a time, put them back together. And then he was whole again. Weak, tired, and sad, but whole.
Tears stopped but still the two of them held on. His eyes burned. His throat burned, his chest burned, his hands, his heart–everything burned. The sensation mirrored the warmth he had felt when she said his name. Tooru's whole body was set aflame with a warm, burning feeling for this girl; the girl he wholeheartedly loved.
Acknowledging the thought knocked the wind from his lungs in the best way and he gaped at her again.
"You wonderful, beautiful, amazing girl. What did I ever do that was good enough to deserve you? Because I can't think of a single thing." Yuna smiled and he could tell her eyes (he would never get tired of those eyes) were a bit weepy as well.
"Dummy. I'll be the judge of that. Besides, I decided a long time ago and you are more than enough." She chuckled and pressed her head to his chest once more. "And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, then so be it."
Tooru grinned–smirked really–and pulled back to look at her. "The rest of your life, huh? You're going to prove it to me? Sounds a bit like a marriage proposal, doesn't it?"
She rolled her eyes and flashed a small smirk of her own. "If that's what it takes. I'll do whatever it takes for you to believe it."
Whatever it takes, huh. She'd really go that far for you.
"The rest of your life is a long time, Inoricchi. I don't know if I could handle you for that long."
You could. You could and you will. You will go as far as possible, beyond, even, for her.
"Then I guess you'd better start believing. Sooner the better." She smiled and his heart swelled.
Yes, whatever it takes. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this girl smiles like that for the rest of her life.
It was then that they heard Iwaizumi calling for them from around the corner. Tooru placed his arm around her shoulders and she kept hers wrapped around his waist as they headed for their best friend.
"Hmm," Tooru mused playfully as they walked. "So if I don't believe you, you'll spend the rest of your life with me? Did I get that right, Inoricchi?" She hummed.
"Yes, but if that happens, you're going to have to find a new nickname." She glanced up slyly. "After all, Inori is my surname."
Tooru stared at her open-mouthed for a moment, her expression growing more and more mischievous, before he busted out laughing. "Is that a challenge, Inoricchi?"
"I don't know, Bakakawa, is it?" He just laughed again in response and pressed a kiss to her temple.
This girl is mine. And I will keep it that way.
Whatever it takes.
The end.