Haikyuu!! Rare-pair Fic Collection

the smell of rain - oiyachi

| College AU, aged-up, consensual |
Summary: Oikawa's just a very giving person you guys

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The smell of rain is ripe, and tonight the air is thick enough to suffocate. It is late summer, and out in the country the sun leaves the town humid and blistering clear past evening. He can smell the asphalt, that sickeningly sweet, and the grain of dirt just over the pavement. His hair feels like it's sticking to his skin but those strange wisps of cold short on the breeze keep him from peeling off his jacket entirely. His face feels hot and his tongue parched and he hurries through the streets toward his wayward apartment, just a few blocks in this direction. He's got a few to spend, and before he passes the corner store he pauses to wonder if he still has coffee mix for the morning. In his kitchen there is a pot of cold pasta waiting on the stove, half a pack of booze, a quarter carton of two-percent milk, a stick of butter, and a few cups pf chocolate pudding in his fridge. There's a small salt shaker he has to refill in the cupboard, a loaf of white bread and a box of generic brand cereal. He can't remember if he's washed the dishes or wiped clean the counters, but his bed is made and his clothes are folded to be washed tomorrow and that's okay, too.

Some off-key bell chimes when he enters the store, and aside from a sleepy cashier and an old guy in the tabloid aisle, he's the only one here.

He picks a basket from a stack by the entrance and makes his way down the first row. A few packs of instant noodles, a box of white rice, a narrow container of coffee mix, and a baggie of salted peanuts. The next row, some peanut butter, sugar, a candy bar, and a family-sized bag of potato chips despite living very much alone. Someone comes into the store, from that off-key bell chime, but when he cranes his neck over the aisles he can't see who.

At the end of the row, where the entirety of the wall is covered in cold goods, he stops to get coffee cream, milk, and a small bottle of apple juice. The basket is terribly heavy now and he considers leaving it at that. He'd have to go to a proper grocery store for the rest, once his paycheck comes in, but as he passes through the second to last row toward the cash register he notes the cardboard boxes lined up neatly on the shelves. He'd lent quite a few more than necessary to his friends when they'd asked the other day, he must be short now.

There are some bottles of lube, and while he pauses to consider them he notices a slight figure at the very end of the aisle. He almost rears back, somewhat embarrassed, but they are much more preoccupied with the items down that way. In this same aisle, there are the basic essentials for babies, pain medication, and feminine hygiene products. This small girl is dressed in a dark red hoodie, gray jeans, running shoes, and a beige overcoat. She is contemplating between a few boxes of pads and tampons, these little pale fingers twitching between the selections before her indecisively. He drags his gaze away to give her the necessary privacy and fidgets by the condoms. She can't be any more interested in knowing about his choices than he is about her predicament.

So he settles back into his thoughts, mulling over types and colors before deciding upon a more trusted brand. After another moment, he picks a bottle of lube for good measure, backs up a step, and then quickly and quietly sweeps past her toward the cash register.

The sleepy cashier is twice his age, some lady with tattoos decorating both arms and a nose piercing. She pops her bubblegum and he remembers to add a pack to his items. She rings him up without preamble and bags everything up for him nicely. As she counts out his money he hears the subtle squeal of sneakers behind him and holds his breath. The lady does nothing to hide the box of condoms and he wonders if the small girl behind him is judging him for it. Face burning, he thanks the cashier and takes his things, shuffling towards the entrance and slipping outside to the enigma of hot-cold rain.