𝐂𝐇. 𝟏𝟐

⋅. ˚₊ ‧  𐙚  ‧ ₊ ˚  ⋅

The gym is quiet this morning.

Too quiet.

Which usually means one of two things:    1.    Kyoutani snapped and finally tackled someone,    2.    Oikawa hasn't shown up yet, or    3.    Something terrible is about to happen.

Unfortunately for me... it's number three.

⸻

My dad claps once, standing next to Coach Nobuteru with a clipboard and a suspicious sparkle in his eyes.

Never good.

"Team," he says, "with Karasuno on the horizon, we're kicking practice into high gear."

Everyone murmurs excitedly.

"Drills are going to be harder. Focus is mandatory. No distractions. No drama."

Still normal.

"And to help set an example of discipline and cooperation..."

Now the gym gets quiet.

"Y/N. Oikawa. Step forward."

I freeze. "Uh... what?"

Oikawa appears at my side like a cursed ghost. "Did someone say my name~?"

Coach Nobuteru steps in. "You two are constant distractions. The bickering. The screaming. The glitter shampoo incident."

"That was her!" Oikawa points immediately.

"That was retaliation for the duck whistle you gave me," I snap.

"See?" my dad says, raising his hands. "This is the problem."

"You two are going to be civil. Starting today." my dad says. "No arguing. No screaming. No flirting."

Oikawa gasps. "So I can't even smile at her??"

"Not if you want to live," I mutter.

Coach Nobuteru points at us both. "You don't have to like each other. But you will get along. Just until the Karasuno match."

My dad nods firmly. "This is your truce. Mess it up—and I'm benching both of you."

"BENCHING ME?!" Oikawa gasps.

"You heard me."

Oikawa turns to me. "Well, wife... I suppose we're in this together."

"Don't call me that," I say.

"Okay, dearest war criminal."

⸻

The first thirty minutes are... painful.

I hand him a water bottle.

He bows dramatically. "Why thank you, Manager-sama."

I squint. "You're lucky we're being watched."

He grins.

When I give feedback on the lineup chart, he nods sincerely.

"Great suggestion, Y/N," he says in his best fake professional voice. "Wow. So helpful."

I stare. "Did that hurt to say?"

"Yes. But I hope the coaches saw."

⸻

Hanamaki: "They're being... polite?"

Matsukawa: "I don't trust it."

Kyoutani: "This is scarier than when they're yelling."

Iwaizumi: "They're gonna explode. Guaranteed."

⸻

Coach Nobuteru has me help run a setting drill. I toss the ball, Oikawa sets.

We're silent.

Sort of.

"Your toss was slightly too high," he mutters.

"Your ego's slightly too big."

"That's not technically breaking the truce," he says, wiping sweat from his neck.

I force a smile. "No. But accidentally spiking a ball at your head might be."

⸻

BREAK

He offers me a drink.

I pause. "Is this poisoned?"

He smirks. "No, that was last week."

I take it anyway. Sip slowly. Still alive. Disappointed.

Oikawa wipes his forehead with a towel and flashes me a peace sign.

I flash him a middle finger behind my water bottle.

Truce.

⸻

Later in Practice

The team splits up to run serve receives. Oikawa and I are assigned to coordinate the flow.

I hand him the clipboard.

He says, "Wow. Your handwriting is so... aggressively legible."

"...Was that a compliment?"

"Yes. No. I don't know anymore."

⸻

Matsukawa spikes a ball a little too close to me. I stumble.

Oikawa immediately yells, "Hey, watch it!"

I shoot him a look. "Don't yell at them on my behalf."

"Too late. I already care."

"Stop that."

"I can't."

"You're exhausting."

"You're intoxicating."

"WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE CIVIL!"

Coach Sadayuki yells across the court, "KEEP IT CIVIL OR I'M BENCHING YOU."

We both immediately straighten up.

"Of course," we say in unison.

I hate this.

⸻

Group Chat

Hanamaki: they said "no flirting" and then stared into each other's souls

Matsukawa: that water bottle moment was intimate

Kyoutani: they're gonna snap

Iwaizumi: placing bets now. 3 days until the truce dies

Y/N: 3 minutes if he calls me "manager-sama" again

Oikawa: thank you for the honor, manager-sama 💕

Y/N: i hope your pillow is hot forever

Oikawa: i like it warm :)

Y/N: i'm going to feed you to a bear

⸻

I collapse into bed that night.

Every muscle is sore.

My brain is fried.

And yet... the worst part of practice wasn't the drills.

It was Oikawa.

Being almost nice.Being almost bearable.Being almost not a total menace.

That's the dangerous part.

That's the real distraction.