Oikawa broke up with you thinking that it’ll help him focus on volleyball. But he didn’t know how much it’ll wreck him instead
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Oikawa has always been the star.
But he will never be the sun.
No matter how desperately he chased that title. No matter how many hours he spent training for it. Eventually, he knew someone blessed with what he called “natural talent” would surpass him.
You had seen it coming from the very beginning.
It was during the first summer of middle school when you confessed to Oikawa—your classmate—beneath a large sakura tree straight out of some cheesy romance manga.
And somehow, against all expectations, he accepted immediately.
No hesitation. No awkward silence.
Just a simple nod and an easy, “Okay.”
At first, you genuinely thought he was joking.
At first you thought it was just a bet.
Because who says yes that quickly?
Especially Oikawa Tooru.
The boy every girl whispered about in hallways.
The boy who shined too brightly for anyone to look at directly.
But somehow, he stayed.
He walked you home after practice with his jersey thrown over one shoulder. He complained dramatically whenever you stole his milk bread. He rested his head on your lap during weekends while ranting about Kageyama and Ushijima until his voice turned hoarse.
And slowly, terrifyingly slowly,
Oikawa became your home.
You learned the sides of him no one else noticed.
How he stared at the ceiling in silence after losing.
How his fingers trembled whenever he overworked himself too hard.
How his smile looked different when it was real.
You loved him through every ugly, exhausted, insecure part of himself.
But volleyball always came first.
You knew that too.
So when he stopped texting first…
When practices got longer…
When his responses became shorter…
You noticed.
Of course you did.
And one evening, beneath flickering streetlights after practice, Oikawa finally said the words you already expected.
“I think…”
He swallowed hard.
“…we should break up.”
The world didn’t stop dramatically like in movies.
No rain.
No crying.
No music swelling in the background.
Just silence.
Oikawa refused to look at you.
“It’s hard balancing everything right now,” he continued quietly. “Volleyball’s getting serious and I just—”
“You want to focus,” you finished softly.
His expression tightened immediately.Because you understood too quickly.
And somehow that hurt him more.
You smiled anyway. Small. Gentle. Painfully understanding.
“Okay.”
That was it.
No begging.
No fighting.
You simply let him go.
And for a moment, Oikawa wished you hadn’t. Because if you cried, maybe this would’ve been easier.
But you only stepped back and said:
“Do your best, Tooru.”
The next few weeks felt strange. Oikawa finally had what he wanted.
More time.
More practice.
More focus.
So why did everything feel so empty?
Why did he still glance toward your classroom after school?
Why did his hand instinctively reach for his phone after every match?
Why did victories suddenly feel quieter without you there to celebrate them?
“Dude,” Iwaizumi frowned one afternoon, “what’s wrong with you lately?”
“Nothing.”
Lie.
Because Oikawa kept seeing you everywhere.
In the hair tie around his wrist.
In the cafeteria drinks you used to buy him.
In the extra umbrella sitting in his locker because you always worried he’d forget his.
And the worst part?
You looked fine.
You still smiled at people. Still laughed with your friends.
Meanwhile, Oikawa felt like he was slowly caving in on himself.
Then came the match against Shiratorizawa.
Aoba Johsai lost.
Again.
The gym felt suffocating afterward.
Oikawa smiled through it, because that’s what stars do.
They shine.
Even while burning themselves apart.
But later that night, while everyone else had gone home, he sat alone in the empty gym with his head lowered and fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
And for the first time in forever—
He broke.
Not because they lost.
But because the first person he wanted to see afterward wasn’t there anymore.
You used to stay after every game.
Win or lose.
You used to hand him water bottles while telling him he played well anyway. Used to scold him for blaming himself too much. Used to stand beside him when volleyball crushed him whole.
Now there was only silence.
And Oikawa finally understood something terrifying:
Volleyball was his entire world.
But somehow…
You had become the part that made that world worth surviving.
…part 2 ?








