I Hope You Think Of Me When The Skies Turn Pink {iwaoi}

Chapter 7 -Teams

He got a girlfriend.

That self-absorbed, cream-of-the-corn, favourited, funny, sweet, pretty.... Oikawa got himself a girlfriend. I mean, finally! She's a great girl really. Kiyama Mitskuni is a model that I've actually seem on a few magazines in the mall yesterday.

How the confession went, according to Oikawa's melancholy followers, Oikawa had approached her this morning just after breakfast was served and confessed to a long term crush on her, not that I ever heard of it. He had explained that he was so scared to confess since she was so loved amongst the guys at school and she was too good for him, this apparently left her a blushing mess.

With barely any hesitation, she stumbled out at "YES" and kissed him. Somebody ought to tell her it wasn't a damn marriage proposal. Well, good for him honestly. I'm also glad that those pining girls can't be lead on anymore, as well as that weird 'fling' with that ''Tsumu' guy can stop, it's off putting to imagine two guys together doing something between lovers, that should only be reserved for a man and a woman. What's even worse is to imagine sharing a room- no, a bed with some like THAT. Gives me the chills.

Anyway, back to the situation at hand, Mitsuki, also referred to as Tsuki, had been clinging for dear life to Oikawa's arm. People couldn't take their eyes off the new couple, either with joy, hatred or envy. The odd thing though, Oikawa's face was stone, not showing any displeasure at the attention nor any joy at the accepted confession.

He has never been like this, even in class he's sporting a toothy smile of at least a satisfied smirk sat on his lips. The same can not be said about Mitsuki. You couldn't burn away that horrendous look off her face even with a bucket of pure acid. Her glossy black hair was tied in its usual teal bow and an oversized blazer sat over her shoulders like a cape or some sort of gown.

By my inspection of the small milk bread patch sewed into the left corner of the collar, it was sure to be the mindless slave that walked into his first class of the day, Madly-in-love model following sweet. On their tails was yours truly, why I was so interested in them is beyond me, but there was a voice in my head telling me to not let them out of my sights. Acid bubbled in my belly, furnaces burned holes in my skull and whistles went off wildly in my brain. This feeling is unfamiliar but not unrecognisable. It's jealousy. Why of all people did Oikawa choose the girl me heart clearly wants, even if my head was too slow to catch up.

Throughout the day I followed Oikawa into our joint classes. As usual, he finished the work that was set faster than anyone and pulled out that same book. I don't how "Red, White and Royal Blue" can be an interesting title for a guy of his intellect but I have to ask him if I can borrow it sometime, I'm curious as to what it can be like, is it some kind of mystery about the murder of some British or American Politician? He also seems to be listening to music, how can the teachers at this school be so okay with all this. I'm convinced it's because their all rich. Eat the rich.

Volleyball is finally today. Most importantly, teams are being announced. This is the whole reason I'm here and why I came, nobody is going to stop me, not Oikawa, not anyone. This school's volleyball team gets a hell of a lot of coverage so if I get in good here I'm practically set with my career. It's as easy as 1,2,3.

It's is apparently not as easy as 1,2,3.

"Listen up boys, the first-year joing the older players in the first team is Oikawa Tooru, congratulations kid." I feel a vein burst. Why am I always second best to him. He took the girl I'm in love with, not that I was necessarily aware of this love, but it's love regardless! He takes the teachers favour, that nice waitress's attention, the last slice of pizza and now my whole soul purpose of coming here! Whatever. I don't care anymore.

I muster a weak,"congrats Oikawa." His smile drops at the corners of his mouth. What now, is he fucking upset that I didn't bow down before the Great King, that I didn't offer myself as a worthless, mindless servant of his to do all his bidding so that he doesn't need to lift a fucking finger.

My body grows tense, relaxing seems to no longer be an option. Despite the tensions that hangs, so thick you can cut its with a blade, the coach carries on with the announcements.

"Captain of the second team will be Iwaizumi Hajime, well done son." Not what I wanted, hell, not even in the same league as what I was aiming for but it's a title. It's my very own piece of power, my very own island amongst the surrounding ocean of Oikawa's reign.

Even if I need to fight a dragon, over-throw the King or sink the Captain, nothing will take this away from me. Not even the devil himself scares me.

In the midst of my train of thought, a small cough can be heard from behind my neck. I presume it's either Makki or Mattsun coming to congratulate their new captain. It's not. "Well done, Iwaizumi." A walking stone figure. A ghost mixing with people. The tall figure that looms over us, who just congratulated me.

It's not Oikawa, it's a dark figure ready to wilt away without a sound deep into the night. It's something so frail that a harsh words uttered by a vicious tongue could shatter it into pieces to lay upon the dried ground.

The meeting ends there and the practice times are announced, not that I was actually listening to what the coach was rumbling aimlessly about. My thoughts were massacred my that lonely shadow that hung overhead. Nobody else seemed to notice.

Why did nobody notice the sheer cry for help just from the still, clay face he wore. The walk to the dorm was silent. The shower was on and off. On and off. On and off. On and off. The bed was cold. Tonight there was a second body. Warmth was still lacked though. Cold shoulders sting.

The other two fade away, their names long gone. It's just me and a ghost, faceless, emotionless,nameless. It's just me and my ghost. He is mine.

I hate my writing I'm sorry to anyone who reads this but this is my free therapy. Depression is a bitch, don't let anyone glamorise it, you have my full approval to beat anyone who does with a stick.

Lmao I got the title wrong