𝐂𝐇. 𝟑𝟕

⋅. ˚₊ ‧ 𐙚 ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅

The moment I stepped into the gym, water bottles in hand, clipboard tucked under my arm, Oikawa—standing in the middle of the court, in full captain glory—yelled:

"My future wife has arrived!"

The volleyball in my hands hit the floor.

"Oikawa."

"I'm just speaking it into existence," he said innocently, jogging over like he hadn't just embarrassed me in front of the entire team.

"You're delusional."

"I'm manifesting."

"Manifest silence."

⸻

Behind him, Iwaizumi was already pinching the bridge of his nose. Hanamaki had his phone out again, no doubt live-commentating our downfall in the group chat. Matsukawa grinned like it was the best show he'd ever seen.

Yahaba? He clapped like he was watching a romantic comedy unfold in real time.

Even Coach Nobuteru looked up from his notes, raising a brow.

I shot him a desperate look. "Coach, control your captain."

Coach Nobuteru shrugged. "You're not wrong, but he's... weirdly productive lately. Can't argue with results."

I stared at him. "So you're telling me this," I pointed at Oikawa who had somehow produced a Sharpie and was now fake-signing my clipboard like it was a marriage certificate, "is inspirational to the team?"

"Actually yeah," said Kyoutani, deadpan.

I swore under my breath and stomped off to refill the water bottles.

⸻

Oikawa's POV

Okay, maybe calling her my future wife in front of the team was a little much.

But she looked so cute when she was flustered.

And she didn't even punch me this time. Progress?

She had been smiling when she walked away.

Barely, but I saw it.

I followed after her, because of course I did.

"Y/N-channn~," I sang, leaning over the counter where she was aggressively filling bottles.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"You were going to ask what color our wedding should be, and I'm telling you now, you'll be unconscious before that ever happens."

I gasped. "So violent! My bride-to-be has such sharp words."

She turned slowly, narrowed eyes gleaming. "We're not dating, Oikawa."

"But we could be..."

I gave her my most charming smile, the one that usually made fangirls swoon.

She didn't swoon.

She shoved a water bottle into my chest.

"Hydrate and shut up."

Still, I caught the way her lips twitched—trying not to smile.

I live for those moments.

⸻

Y/N's POV

He was exhausting. Absolutely, undeniably, unapologetically exhausting.

But the worst part?

I didn't hate it.

I hated that I didn't hate it.

Somewhere in the last few weeks, between the pranks, the fights, the weird tension and almost-kisses, Oikawa had wedged his way into my brain and built a damn summer home there.

And now?

Now he called me "future wife" like it was nothing, and my stomach did annoying little flips I refused to acknowledge.

⸻

Later, during practice

"Nice set, Oikawa!" I shouted, writing down the score.

He turned, beam full wattage, and yelled back, "Anything for my fiancée!"

The gym erupted.

Even Iwaizumi choked on his water.

I turned beet red. "NO, OIKAWA!"

"YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF!" Iwaizumi yelled, laughing so hard he dropped his towel.

⸻

Matsukawa grinned. "So when's the wedding?"

"Shut up."

Hanamaki added, "Can I be the flower girl?"

"Hanamaki, I will throw you into the net."

"Hot bride privileges," he whispered to Watari.

⸻

The team kept it going all day.

Akira wrote Mrs. Oikawa in my notes when I wasn't looking. Kyoutani muttered "poor guy" every time I threatened Oikawa's life. Yahaba started playing the wedding march on his phone whenever we walked past each other.

By the end of practice, I was drained.

But when I glanced at Oikawa, who was wiping sweat from his brow and smiling like an idiot every time I accidentally looked in his direction...

I hated how happy it made me feel.

⸻

Oikawa's POV

She didn't say no.

Okay, she did, a lot, but she didn't really say no.

Not the way she used to.

Not the way that meant "leave me alone forever."

Now she smiled after.

Now she grumbled but didn't walk away.

Now she rolled her eyes like she was letting me win, even when she insisted she wasn't.

It was unofficial.

But to me?

It felt official enough.

⸻

Y/N's POV

As we cleaned up after practice, I paused beside him at the bench.

"Hey," I said, almost reluctantly.

He blinked at me, surprised. "Yes, dear future wife?"

I gave him a look. "If you say that in front of Coach again, I will sabotage your next game."

"Noted."

I hesitated.

"But..."

He leaned closer, curious.

"...the 'no' doesn't mean never, Oikawa."

He froze.

Then slowly, the biggest, dorkiest smile spread across his face.

I smacked him in the arm.

"Don't get cocky."

He shrugged, walking backwards toward the gym doors like he was on top of the world.

"No promises."