[Book 1]
Your friend demands that you be the script writer for the supposed love story between her and Oikawa Tooru.
Or in which you're forced to shove two people together, painstakingly describing their romance arc, as you slowly fall for the volle...
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During the course of the week, you and Oikawa agreed that he could come over to your house on the weekend, Saturday, at 2 in the afternoon. In that time, you wrote sixteen pages of writing, after deliberating on what your subject should be.
Your final idea was to write a tragic piece about two lovers who were torn apart by circumstance and argument.
(Of course you had to write a romance story. It was the only thing you knew how to do properly.)
Having decided to make their genders and sexuality open to discussion, you chose two vague names, and used the pronouns they/them for both of the characters. After going through the strenuous process of picking out the line of events, you finally started to write.
Since you and Oikawa had exchanged phone numbers a few days ago, you sent him your location on google maps, so he could use that to get there. Your father was well aware of what was going to happen, and had been tidying up your messy house all day.
"Dad," you complained, as you ate some snacks whilst reading a Jane Austen book. "Leave off. He's not gonna be here for another hour anyway."
"Have you cleaned up your room?" your father completely ignored your remarks. "I know what you're like. You better not leave your underwear lying around like you usually do!"
"I don't leave my underpants out!" you snapped, heating up in embarrassment.
"What about all of your manga books? And those weird, slightly erotic novels you read?"
"Dad!"
A crack of thunder interrupted your conversation. Both of you peered out of the nearest window, to discover the sky overcast with ominous dark clouds; and then the familiar pitter patter of rain started to come from above. Your father grumbled something about having wanted to go out, but your thoughts were occupied by Oikawa.
Hopefully he wouldn't get wet or hurt... and maybe he'd have enough common sense to wear a jacket.
About an hour later, fifteen minutes after 2 pm, there was a knock at the door. Your father flipped out, attempting to make himself look normal, by sitting on the living room sofa and gluing his eyes to the screen of the television.
You just stood up, now very anxious, and stumbled over to the door, straightening out your wrinkled shirt, before opening it cautiously.
There stood Oikawa, a sheepish grin on his face, umbrella in one hand, dressed in a blue jacket, some rather nice brown trousers, a v-neck jumper and a white shirt.
... he was also wearing glasses. For some reason.
You squinted at him, adjusting your own specs that sat on the bridge of your nose. "Why are you wearing those?"
"Oh these?" Oikawa blinked, and tapped the item on his face, before giving you a closed eye smile. "I accidentally bought them once. I figured they made me look smarter, so I kept them."
