the winner takes it all (oikawa tooru x reader)

Chapter 16: Perfect

Being Seijoh's manager, you often received confessions from other students, to pass onto one of the volleyball players. Oikawa was unsurprisingly the most requested, but if you were to estimate, Kunimi came in for a not-very-close second, followed by Iwaizumi, and then Matsukawa.

(Must've been those big ass eyebrows of his.)

Even Himari occasionally got a few declarations of love, however that was expected, the girl was pretty hot. Though, for some reason, she looked disappointed whenever you told her about a kouhai wanting to talk with her.

Whatever, it wasn't your business. Besides, you didn't know shit about having a fanbase, or someone being in love with you; if anything, people were more scared than anything else.

"I just... don't know what to do!" Yahaba exclaimed, running his hands through his fluffy hair, as he sat next to you at the bench, during afternoon practice.

"I'm not saying it was a dick move to run away from someone who just laid their feelings bare to you, but that's exactly what I'm saying." You responded, busy fixing the jammed mouthpiece of his water bottle.

"(L/n)-san, I know..." the boy sighed, slumping over. "Why is it so cold here? The one day I forget my jacket, and the whole gym turns into a frozen wasteland..." Yahaba grumbled, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Yahaba-senpai, it was kind of dumb for you to do that," Kunimi agreed, with a yawn.

"Not you too!" Yahaba wailed, "I just got so... nervous! He looked so earnest, and all I could think of was... why me?" he trailed off, becoming bitter and questioning.

"You're kind, soft natured, smart and adorable," you answered without a second to waste, still occupied with Yahaba's bottle, a look of immense concentration on your face.

Kunimi's normally tired eyes widened slightly in shock; Yahaba turned bright red; even Watari, who was busy practicing his receives with Hanamaki, gasped at your sudden compliment, and his lack of concentration caused him to get hit with a ball.

You scowled, and promptly smashed the plastic sports bottle against the side of the bench, causing everyone around you to flinch — then you lifted it back up, tested the lid, and handed it back to Yahaba, stating, "Fixed it."

Yahaba took it off you shakily, "Thank you..." he murmured weakly.

(Fuck, you might've mellowed out but you were still scary as shit.)

"So, Yahaba, what are you going to do?" you inquired dryly, zipping up your jacket.

"I... really, I have no idea," Yahaba mumbled. "I don't even know this person... I think they were in my maths class once, but I really don't know. But... I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"This is a confession we're talking about, Yahaba," you lectured, facing him properly, and poking his arm half jokingly. "Someone's bound to be upset, if it isn't mutual. The most you can do to soften the blow is to tell them you appreciate their feelings a lot, and thank them."

"Yeah... I suppose you're right," Yahaba laughed quietly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'll do that. You're pretty good with this type of thing, (L/n)-san, you must be popular."

You looked your underclassman straight in the eye, and said without batting an eyelid, "No, it's just fanfiction."

Yahaba blinked, but before he could speak, you stood up, unzipped your jacket, and placed it around his shoulders.

"Respond to him after school tomorrow," you called out, as you walked over to where the other third years were.

"Ok!" Yahaba spluttered; he paused, before pulling your jersey more firmly around him, blushing a bit.