Set Point.
You struggled to stay awake as you remembered last night's date, the way Oikawa had gotten you to stay up until five watching movies of all kinds of genres-romance, horror, comedy, and action. You barely had enough time to grab breakfast after your fifth date with the setter, and your stomach grumbled loudly, begging to be fed. "I don't have anything, tummy," you mumbled, ignoring the idea that you probably looked like a loon.
Your fingers found the key to your locker, and you unlocked it to switch your outdoor shoes for your indoor ones. With a sigh, you slipped the latter on, and was about to lock the compartment when your eyes landed on a little pink box that was so stupidly familiar you knew exactly what it was: your bento box from junior high.
With wide eyes you grabbed it, inspecting the old thing in confusion. You had lost it your second year of junior high, and remembered the devastation you felt when you had to endure lunch time without any food. Curiously, you peeked inside, hoping you wouldn't find five years' worth of stale food. To your surprise, there was a fresh dish of {f/food} inside, still steaming and warm. A grin stretched on your lips. Heaven was kind today.
Art class rolled around, and you found yourself approaching the teacher's desk, a nervous patter in your chest as you wondered what sort of trouble you had gotten into this time. Just last week your teacher had chewed you out for having lost your project, which you swore you had until your sketchbook had mysteriously vanished from your desk. You wondered what the cost of that loss was; perhaps this was the moment you were going to find out.
"{l/n}-san," the teacher greeted with a smile. Somehow, that made you even more nervous. "Do you remember the sketchbook you failed to turn in?"
Oh. So it was about that. You swallowed, afraid for what was to come. "Yes, sensei."
"Well, it's alright! A fellow schoolmate apparently mistook it for his, and took it with him instead," she explained, and pulled out a familiar, worn-out sketchpad. "He turned it in to me this morning. Don't worry about your grade; I gave you full points."
"Thank you, sensei!" You bowed with gratitude, and turned away, leafing through your sketches.
The day went on, and more and more lost things were returned to you. There was that bracelet you believed had fallen off your wrist in middle school, the books you never finished because they kept getting stolen before you had a chance to end the story, the humongous teddy bear you received as a birthday present from Iwaizumi in your first year of high school. Heck, there was even the silly dress you lost when you went swimming with Oikawa and Iwaizumi just last year.
You froze, repeating your train of thoughts. The bracelet went missing as you were talking to Oikawa. The books were always stolen right after Oikawa showed up. The teddy bear "disappeared" after a fighting match between Iwaizumi and Oikawa. And the dress disappeared while you were swimming with Iwaizumi, Oikawa sitting on the deck, snapping pictures of the two of you.
Your legs quickly carried you away, pulling you towards the gym, where you knew you would find the setter. Pushing the doors open, you excused yourself inside, quickly catching the other boys' attention. The adviser immediately approached you.
"{l/n}-san," he greeted with a warm smile. "Are you here to take your position back?"
"Yes and no." A downfallen look spread across everyone's faces. "Where's Oikawa-kun?"
"Ah, {y/n}-chan!" Oikawa approached you with a smile, waving his hand ever so slightly. "Perfect timing. We're just finishing up practice."
You studied him. "Tooru," you began, which earned him a look of shock. That was the first time you had ever called him by his first name. "What are you planning?"
He grinned. "Did you like your presents? I've been keeping them for a while, you know."
"You were responsible for all those disappearances!" you accused, which earned you a laugh from the boy.
Oikawa turned to his coach to excuse himself, and took your hand, pulling you outside. "Come on, I still have one more thing for you."
Curiously, you followed him, letting him guide you to whatever mystery he had planned, not bothering to ask questions despite your burning desire to know. He pulled you towards the locker room, where all the students kept their indoor/outdoor shoes and whatever trinkets they wish to leave behind, and watched as he pulled out his own key and unlocked the locker. A very familiar {f/colour} scarf emerged, which was soon looped around your neck in a tight bundle. Oikawa smiled at you, his eyes lovingly caressing your own.
"Hey, {nickname}-chan. Say my name again."
"Oikawa?"
"No, my first name." His fingers brushed your cheek, pushing the stray strands away from your face.
You blushed. "Tooru."
"Again."
You blushed more. "Tooru-kun."
Both hands were now on your face, pulling it closer to his, connecting your lips with his as he kissed you tenderly, softly, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into the romantic gesture. You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into his embrace, allowing the kiss to deepen, richen, sweeten, roughen. Your bodies fit perfectly, all your curves matching his, as though you were the missing piece to his puzzle. He cradled your face, and you held on to his shirt, and for that moment, the two of you were the only people in the world.
Your lungs began to burn, and you guess his did too, because soon, the two of you pulled away, locking eyes and foreheads, chests heaving up and down. He smiled, running his setter's hands in your hair. "{nickname}-chan."
"Yes, Tooru?"
"Be my girlfriend."
YOU ARE READING
Set Point.
Fanfiction[Oikawa Tooru x Reader] Honestly, you didn't mean to add him to the list of things you like.