#*fanmail

    “…”

     Oikawa took a deep breath.

    “Tobio-chan?”

     He smiled.

[hands]

     ** Oikawa’s hands certainly work to his advantage as a volleyball player. He has large hands, though they aren’t quite to the point of “broad”. He has long fingers, though they aren’t quite to the point of being called “thin” or “thick”, being somewhere in the middle.

     His hands don’t sweat too much. His hands are relatively smooth, but he uses hand lotion to deal with dry skin in the winter. He only uses it after practices, during the morning at school, and sometimes before lying down to sleep.

     Oikawa frowned at the assurance in Iwaizumi’s tone, fingers pressing to the ball between his hands to halt its momentum. His eyes ran over the spiker thoughtfully, analytically, and then Oikawa smiled, shifting away from the bin and adjusting his grip on the ball.

     “Eh?”

     Oikawa froze, half-turned to grab another volleyball from the bin beside him. His eyebrows knit together as he leaned down to finish his original action, grabbing one of the multi-colored balls. Taking a deep breath, Oikawa straightened and turned a smile toward the ace.

ツ

    Considering that Oikawa had gone into the roommate situation for his first year at Tokyo University completely blind, he supposed that things could have turned out worse. Though his roommate did an astonishing job of grating on his nerves at times, and though Oikawa made a point of doing the same in return, Kuroo Tetsurou was not, by any means, a terrible roommate.

    If Oikawa really wanted to complain about something to do with the lanky Tokyo native, he supposed he could complain about Kozume Kenma, the quiet friend of his roommate who, particularly when he didn’t have to worry about high school responsibilities, had this amazing ability of just showing up in the small apartment without warning or notice, and vanishing just as suddenly.

    Leaving his room, Oikawa froze to take stock of the living room for two seconds. As he’d thought, Kuroo wasn’t around, but that didn’t mean the place was empty. Hesitating for a few moments, Oikawa abandoned his original path to visit the kitchen and investigate the cupboards, instead moving to flop onto the couch.

ツ

     On days when the club met for morning practice, Oikawa Tooru could often go through his entire routine without encountering anyone else in his home. If he was running late, he might hear his parents stirring awake when he laced up his sneakers. Today, however, Oikawa was halfway down the stairs when he became suddenly aware of something incredibly wrong. The sound of a spoon bumping against a dish seemed too loud for the usual morning quiet, and the third year stopped before scooting to lean over the banister and peer into the room. His expression set in a frown when he saw the cause of the disturbance.

     (His heart resumed beating, but! he wasn’t scared in the first place!!)

ツ

     If you ever need something — anything — my door is always open.

     Oikawa wondered if perhaps he should have specified that the offer was not meant to be taken literally. Leaning against the door frame that separated his bedroom from the main room of his apartment, the brunet groaned in disbelief.

     ”Tobio-chan,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep but also heavy with warning. It took Oikawa an effort to straighten before he began to cross the room, traveling to the kitchenette to search for a glass and something to drink. He spoke again as he turned on the tap, lifting a glass from the drying rack and tipping it beneath the flowing water.