𝐂𝐇. 𝟐𝟒

⋅. ˚₊ ‧  𐙚  ‧ ₊ ˚  ⋅

I should've known the softness wouldn't last.

Post-match Oikawa had been tolerable. Nice, even. He'd said kind things. Thanked me. Smiled like a normal person instead of a dramatic peacock.

But by the next day?

He was back on his bullshit.

"Manager-channn~," he sing-songed, draping himself over the scorer's table, where I was busy updating match records.

I didn't look up. "Don't you have drills to run?"

He leaned in dramatically. "I came to see you."

I side-eyed him. "Tragic."

"That's not the response I wanted."

"Well, it's the one you got."

"I thought we were having a moment yesterday."

"We did. Past tense."

Oikawa pouted, hand over his heart like I'd just stabbed him with a pencil. "You're colder than the gym floor."

"And yet you keep crawling back."

He grinned like I'd handed him a victory. "Exactly. Because I'm devoted."

I stared at him.

He stared right back.

"I'm going to walk away now," I said, pushing off the table with my clipboard.

He gasped. "You're abandoning me?"

"Yes. Bold of you to assume I was ever here for you in the first place."

⸻

Oikawa's POV

She walked away.

Just like that. After the moment we had. After I poured my soul out on that bench. (Okay, fine, I said one semi-vulnerable sentence. Still.)

And now she was acting like I was nothing more than background noise.

Cool. Totally fine. Not devastating at all.

I flopped onto the court face-down like a man defeated.

"Iwa-chan," I mumbled into the hardwood, "she hates me again."

"Good," Iwaizumi said, stepping over me with a water bottle.

"I'm being emotionally crushed."

"She's got good taste."

⸻

Y/N's POV

Practice continued. I kept myself busy, ignoring the way Oikawa kept glancing at me mid-set. Ignoring the way he deliberately set for spikes near the bench so he could yell things like:

"Did you see that, manager-chan?"

or

"I dedicate that point to you~"

Eventually, I retreated to the storage closet to re-organize the supplies. Which was when Iwaizumi cornered me. Like a six-foot brick wall of judgment.

"Okay," he said, crossing his arms. "What's going on?"

"With...?"

He gave me a look.

I sighed and leaned against the shelving unit. "I don't hate him anymore."

His jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"I don't hate him. That doesn't mean I like him. I just don't, you know—want to kick him in the head every time he talks."

Iwaizumi blinked slowly. "Do you hear yourself?"

"I said don't hate. Not love."

"This is worse."

I frowned. "How?"

"Because you're in denial."

"I am not—"

"He flirts with you like it's his full-time job. You flirt back. You talk to me, of all people, about how you don't hate him. Y/N, please."

"Iwa."

"I'm going to throw up."

I rolled my eyes. "You're dramatic."

"You're in love."

"I will break your ankles."

"You're blushing."

"I will throw this clipboard."

⸻

Team Group Chat — That Night

[Hanamaki]:okay but real talk. when do we think oikawa's gonna confess

[Matsukawa]:confess what. his crimes? his bad haircut? his undying love for manager-chan?

[Y/N]:I AM IN THIS CHAT HELLO

[Oikawa]:💖👀 who said anything about undying

[Y/N]:YOU'RE SO—

[Iwaizumi]:i'll give it 3 weeks before they're making out behind the gym

[Kyoutani]:5 weeks. i got money on this.

[Watari]:2 weeks. oikawa's spiraling fast.

[Matsukawa]:what's the pool at now? 700 yen?

[Hanamaki]:850. plus a fruit jelly pouch.

[Y/N]:YOU GUYS ARE BETTING ON ME???

[Oikawa]:awww i'm honored 🥺💕

[Y/N]:DIE.

⸻

Oikawa's POV

I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

I could text her something funny. Something casual. Something like "still thinking about you sitting next to me after the match."

Instead, I typed:

You were kinda pretty today.

Deleted it.

Typed:

You yelled at me 4 times today. I think I'm in love.

Deleted it.

Settled on:

You always smell like those strawberry candles you hate. Weird.

She replied in 1 minute:

You're unwell.

I smiled at my screen.

Maybe.