Rainy days were the worst.
They dragged twice as long as a normal day, the sound of rain against the windows buzzing in Oikawa's ears for hours on end, dragging him to the brink of madness. If he didn't have Iwaizumi's borrowed paperbacks, Oikawa thought he would have tried to drown himself in the shower just to end the monotony. They still played cards on rainy days, huddled in Hanamaki and Matsukawa's cell, but Oikawa typically opted out of those games. He lost every single time.
The nice days, when the sun was out and the weather was warm, were better. Most of those were spent in the yard, where there was more to see than the same gray walls. Oikawa enjoyed walking the paved path around the edge, sometimes with Kindaichi or one of the other inmates of Block Two, other times by himself. As long as the others were in the yard – Iwaizumi, especially – he didn't worry so much about going off on his own, as long as he was still in sight. Besides, Bokuto and Kuroo rarely ever came outside, unless it was their turn to use the basketball court. That was decided on a rotating schedule, and Oikawa learned a couple of weeks into his sentence that those were the best days of all.
"C'mon, Oikawa," said Hanamaki, baring his teeth in a predatory smile. "Play with us."
"No thanks." Oikawa squinted against the sun in his eyes. It was nearly blinding, but he couldn't complain. The heat of it soaked the back of his neck and warmed him down to his bones. He lounged back against the rickety table. "I'll sit this one out."
"You sat out last time," said Matsukawa. He stood nearby, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling between his lips. Oikawa knew those were contraband, and he still hadn't figured out where they came from or why the guards didn't put a stop to it. Tanaka was posted by the outside door, well within view, but he didn't spare them a second glance. Matsukawa puffed out a breath and added, "And the time before that, and the one before that."
"Stop being such a little bitch," said Hanamaki.
"I'm not being a bitch. I just don't want to."
"Why?" said Matsukawa. "It's not like you have anything better to do."
That was Matsukawa's perpetual reasoning for everything. He said it when he tried to get Oikawa to flood Block Three's bathroom, and when he tried to get Oikawa to "accidentally" spill his drink on Ushijima, and when he tried to get Oikawa to try and seduce one of the guards – Sugawara, specifically – and convince him to smuggle in an order of hot wings.
Oikawa had obviously denied all of those suggestions, because contrary to Matsukawa's attitude, he did have better things to do. Those things included keeping his head down and serving his time so he could get the hell out of prison.
"What's taking you idiots so long?" said Iwaizumi, scuffing over with a basketball tucked beneath his arm. He'd shed his uniform shirt and was left in only a white tee that was thin enough to show the lines and edges of the tattoos beneath. The prison rules said they were only allowed to remove any piece of their uniform during their showers and during any guard-approved physical activity. From what Oikawa had gathered, that applied only to whichever cell block was allowed to use the basketball court on any given day.
"Yeah, Oikawa," said Hanamaki. "What's taking you so long?"
Iwaizumi shoved Hanamaki toward the flat spit of asphalt in the middle of the yard. He did it gently, and Oikawa expected if he'd used his full strength, Hanamaki would have been face-down in the dirt.
"Get out there. Split up teams." He flung the ball at Hanamaki, who caught it easily. "Oikawa will play on mine."
Oikawa craned his head back to stare up at him. "I'm not playing."
