Pretty Venom ── Haikyuu

02: IF YOU

until you can stop lying

CHAPTER TWO

You stare at whatever remains of your Literature homework in the apartment hallway. The windows were open so some light from the mirth of the sunset bleakly overlooked the paper in your hands—if the windows were open, that meant Hiromi is home.

"Did a dog eat your homework?" She quirks an eyebrow from behind the kitchen counter.

Lethargically, you look up and fix your eyes on her. Sometimes you genuinely wondered if Hiromi was a figment of your imagination but such a thought is wholly vile in the sense that you just straight up disregard her sentience. She was empathic, as though she could extend her warmth and kindness to others with ease. Her lips were always snugly close to a gentle smile and she had a striking glow to her eyes—crystallised, calming blues—and you must consider if a passing swallow ever mistook them for gemstones.

Like you, her parents were abroad, and yet, the two of you could not be more wildly different. Strangers, if anything, despite knowing each other for years at middle school. You would stare at her from the corner of your eyes, a habit of observance, envy that blots your vision the longer you mourn the girl you wanted to be a child, because you had killed that person with your bare hands and yet here Hiromi stands—god and all. You were bloated on frustration that you cannot control your past nor your future, blinded until it was too late to clear the hazy, bloody-red tint. Hiromi was everything you want to be; living with her must be your punishment, just as Tantalus' hunger drives him towards the branch with fruit his tongue will never taste.

You peer from behind the wall, watching her sit on the kitchen counter like a child. Yes, yes, your parents most definitely punished you for being rotten, weak and stupid—they placed you next to her to put the gap between the two of you into the limelight. Still, you would rather die than admit it but you are glad she is your friend. Even if the whole world was against you, she would still stand by your side. "I wish it did, at least I could brag about it on Tumblr or something."

Hiromi laughs. It's a pleasant laugh, too. She had always talked about how funny you were; you were a subject of many conversations between her and her friends, how your jokes made her wheeze and it was a sort of contextual, backwards humour that few could truly digest. But your late-night talks about your shenanigans as a child would often end with at least one person at parties pissing themselves from laughing too much.

"Then what? Did you rip it up yourself?"

You shake your head, throwing your school bag across the room until it lands with a thump by the hallway. "A guy did something—it was an accident, I think. He actually seemed upset," You surprise yourself by saying this.

Once the words leave your lips, your eyes dwell on the Shiratorizawa emblem on Hiromi's blazer. Even though she attends a different school, you know that Oikawa Tooru is a sort of legend amongst the teenage collective of the Miyagi Prefecture. Pretty boys earn a mark in the hall of fame. And even you, who cannot look themselves in the mirror without wanting to throw up, must admit Oikawa was decently handsome for the average person.

"Hm," Hiromi taps her lips, a little cleverly, as though she understands the truth wedged between your words. "I know I go to a different high school, but I'll ditch class if need be to sort him out."

As much as you would enjoy the sight of Hiromi—in her karate outfit, boasting her black belt around her waist—sprinting towards Oikawa in the middle of the school gymnasium and kicking him unconscious, it would land you and her in a lot of trouble. Besides, you have been trying hard to qualm your terrible feelings towards others as of late. The final year before university was a reminder that you must navigate your life wisely with words, not with fists.