Ichi

Ichi

Girls loved him for his looks.

Boys loved him for his volleyball skills.

Sometimes the two were interchangeable, but one thing was definitely certain. Tooru Oikawa was one of the most popular students to ever attend Aobajohsai High, if not the most popular.


That was why he was considered #1. Ironic, considering he wore #13 on his bib.


The brunette, handsome faced boy seemed to have everything. There was just one problem.

He didn't.


If he could have everything, then you would most definitely be a part of it. You were the person that kept him up at night, drove him nuts tossing and turning, holding onto himself and imagining you there with him. The thrill that came from playing a good game could not compare to just imagining how amazing you might be. He'd give it up in a split second if it meant he could have you.


Often he would see you sitting at the side and watching his games, cheering him on with that beautiful smile and those gorgeous [E/C] eyes glistening with enthusiasm. You didn't play yourself, but he could tell that you were passionate about the sport, and more importantly, he could tell that you enjoyed watching him play it.


So he made his best efforts to look as attractive as possible for you. You weren't someone who only valued looks, but aesthetics were always important. If he ever got any sweat on his brow he would tug up the bottom of his shirt, pulling the fabric and exposing his midriff while he wiped it. He'd deliberately jog close to where you were sitting, and make sure he was showing off his athletic figure. He even wondered if you'd enjoy hearing his slightly weary panting after he had played hard.


Anything. Anything at all, he'd make sure your eyes were always on him. But he never worried about it. It seemed to already be guaranteed after all. Of course you'd say yes to him when he finally asked you. Why would you ever say no? There was nobody better that you could find.


That was what he thought at least. That was how he viewed things, but from your perspective things were significantly different.

You had no idea what went on inside Tooru's head, and so you didn't know of the romanticized thoughts he was having about you. All you knew was that you enjoyed watching him play.


He was such a talent. Even with his injury, he played on like a pro. Maybe he was a little bit arrogant, but nobody was perfect. He had his flaws like everyone else, and you liked him all the same.

But...'loved' him? Unfortunately for Tooru, that wasn't how you felt.


This bitter truth came to light the very day he ushered you aside after a game and took you into a quiet part of the boys' locker room. You initially fretted about being in there, not wanting to seem like some kind of desperate pervert, but Tooru insisted there was no need to worry, as nobody else was in there. He'd made sure to check. He'd made quite sure you would be alone for when he finally asked you:


“[Y/N], will you go out with me?”


At first, those words made you a little shocked. Then...you started to feel that creeping, dreadful sensation. The impending rejection on your own part.

Why did you have to ask me this?


Like a storm cloud, it finally caught up with you and you couldn't escape from it. Holding your other arm, you sighed out softly, immediately shattering the illusion he'd been having this whole time as you spoke in glum but honest return:

“I can't, Tooru. I'm sorry.”


It took him a moment to come to terms with what you had just said. His eyes blinked, and stared at you. He could feel the sweat still lingering on the back of his neck from all that exertion now mingling with a new kind. It was ice cold, like a creeping finger on his back. He could practically hear himself being mocked...

Idiot! You think you're all that, but if you really were then she wouldn't reject you!


No...no! Logically this made no sense! Angered now, he suddenly looked at you with demanding eyes.

“Well you must have a really great reason, right? Because there are so many girls who would kill to be in your position right now, don't you know that??”


Now this was a side of Tooru that you hadn't expected to ever see. His brow had furrowed slightly, hazel brown eyes zeroed in on you like missiles about to strike land.

“You're kidding, right?”


“...No...I wouldn't lie to you like that. I don't think it's fair to lead anyone on...” you replied, so bewildered by this sudden attitude shift that you almost couldn't think of anything to say at all. “I'm just being honest. My only reason is that I just don't feel that way about you.”


Tooru had been hoping you would tell him that you just had too many commitments, that there was some tragedy in your life that had happened recently, even that you had a boyfriend already (which he figured would be easy to get rid of), any kind of valid excuse not to date him besides...not being attracted to him.


But no. It seemed that you really didn't feel that way about him after all, and he simply couldn't wrap his head around that. He would have given up learning the biggest secret in volleyball if it had meant he could understand why you were telling him this. Why it was the case at all.

Why you didn't love him, despite the fact that he was perfect boyfriend material. Tall, attractive, athletic, smart, well spoken, a high achiever all round. What was anyone else when compared with that?


What smarted too was feeling like he had wasted all that time trying to seduce you while playing games, even if subtly so, and now it was like you were throwing it all back in his face.

His stomach turned. This was literally sickening to him. You were looking at him so innocently, as if you truly had no clue how much of his precious world you had just torn down with your cruel hands.


“...Cruel...yeah. It's cruel...”

“Cruel?” you asked, confused by his silence followed by this sudden saying.

“Yeah...” Tooru nodded slowly, head low and shadowed all of a sudden. “It's cruel how you can so easily knock down everything a person has ever worked for...”


“What? What are you talking about?” you were baffled, literally spluttering before you actually responded: “I rejected becoming your girlfriend, but I'm just one of millions of girls out there- billions even! And if your fanbase here in school is anything to go by, you won't have a hard time finding someone else.”


You were working on your own logic, just as he was working on his, and both of you were clashing.

“Look, I don't want an argument...so I think I should just go...” you turned away from him.


To Tooru, the fact that you could even suggest that he would pick anyone else was only one thing.

Insulting.


And how dare you?

How dare you insult someone as perfect as himself?


His hands shot out all of a sudden and grabbed you by the shoulders. You squeaked with shock but he ignored your cry as he simply held you fast and slammed you back against the locker, making the metal rattle, and causing your body to hiccup.

“To--!”

His free hand clamped over your mouth before you could say anything else, squeezing your cheeks as something of a warning.


This was the first time that Tooru had ever really touched you. There was nothing romantic about him literally pinning you to a boy's locker, stifling any cries with his hand. You only flushed when you felt his knee slip up between your legs, propping your comparatively smaller body up in-front of his own.


Tooru stood there for a moment, watching you as you quivered in his hold. Your eyes were wide with alarm, and no wonder. That had happened so out of the blue he was almost startled by it himself.


“...You talk like you know everything, and yet you seem to know nothing about me. Not really.”

Tooru's brow softened in a condescending expression, his lips pouting slightly while he spoke and rubbed his thumb against your cheek.

“Because you should know that I'm number one, in every regard. That makes me better than any other boy you might like.”

He dug his nail into the plush skin he was caressing, and smiled as you closed one eye, wincing.

“And I bet you like other boys, don't you [Y/N]?”


Just like that, his slightly clammy hand slipped away and you panted, breathing properly through your mouth again. But he didn't let you go though. Instead, that same hand soon returned, only this time so it could gently slip around your neck and grip it with a little firmness. This made you cower all the more, but Tooru only looked at you expectantly with one dark eyebrow raised.


When you didn't answer, he gave your gullet a little squeeze. Then you talked.

“I-I do! I can't help that!”

“Hmph.” he smirked and loosened up again, watching as you breathed in some air shakily, treating it like precious alcohol. He loved having so much leverage that he could literally control every minutiae of a certain situation. Dating was so much easier when you were completely in charge.


“Maybe not. But that doesn't matter anymore.” Tooru's head tilted, and he smiled sweetly, but it was undoubtedly sinister, “Because you're mine now. And that means no more thinking about other boys okay~?”


You only kept looking up at him in that cutely frightened manner. Tooru couldn't resist it. He pressed his knee firmer against you, watching you go even more scarlet and look down shyly. His hand only tilted your chin up deftly, lips meeting yours in a seductive kiss.


He was stronger than you. He was faster than you. He was smarter than you.

You were outmatched. Completely.


His tongue consumed your mouth, hands ravishing your sides while he kept you pinned taut between the lockers and his tall body. His 6 foot figure dominated you entirely, casting you in a heavy shadow which already spelled so many levels of doom. And when he parted from that kiss, wiping his mouth and giving you that famous one-eyed gesture, he then let that cheerful, aroused little smile of his fade into something more sinister and serious again.


Alone in the locker rooms, without a single other soul there to hear either of you, the only thing you could focus on was the sight of him running his tongue across his bottom lip, eyes never leaving you in that hooded manner.

“Face it. Nobody is better for you than I am. Don't insult me by pretending I'm not the best that there is.”


His hand reached out then, warm as it cupped your cheek, but cold and callous in intention. The words he spoke were practically oozing with that arrogant, venomous attitude you'd never known he had, only faintly cloaked by a sweetness that seemed all too false.


“We both know I'm the perfect man...”