Feelings Feelings Go Away | Oikawa Tooru

Not The No.1

I hear the door open slowly, someone is tip-toeing towards me. I know but my slumber won't let me move. My eyes are still heavy. I know something is nearing, but my body won't let me react.

Suddenly all the warmth from my body leaves when my fuzzy blanket is forcefully removed off of me.

"Wake up Y/n, it's already 6."

Yea, how can I forget. To make this year count, just teamwork is not going to work. We actually have to put in some effort and for that Michiko has asked dad to take me for morning jogs just like how's she's been doing for god knows how long.

I get up and get fresh, put on some jogging attire and we're done. And with no breakfast, we head out.

"Go!! Y/n go!!"

I like how supportive he is but at least he can not ride a scooter while I run miles and sweat buckets.

Not fair!!

I've practiced for baseball matches when I was young with my dad. He'd tell me all kinds of fuss he used to have when he was a 'lad'. Though, it wasn't this hardcore. Running laps around the neighbourhood, having a proper diet and blah, blah, blah.

Dad's been on a baseball team in his childhood. He had even entered nationals, a professional baseball player. We have a lot of trophies and medals in our shelf.

This time, I want to add one of mine to his collection. I'm sure it would make him proud.

"Let's go Y/n, it's time to fight. Run so fast, make the wind fright!!"

And I'm sure it would make me happy if he stopped chanting my name like that.

***

After what feels like an eternity, we finally stop. I sprawl on the grass, limbs frailed on the ground like a starfish, having a hard time slowing my breathing.

"Good job."

He says as he slides a water bottle my way. I drink it which gives me life.

"When are the jerseys coming in?"

"Today. I guess." I say out of breath.

"So, who's getting the no.1?"

"Michiko. Is that even a question?"

She's been on the team since day one. She deserves it. For keeping everyone tied together and the coach sane.

***

We're back home and preparing for our day. Dad's getting ready for work while I, for school.

We've morning practice today, since you don't know when it might start pouring. I wear my attire and head downstairs to have breakfast.

When I reach to the dinning table, my mouth is agape with what I see. The whole table is full with salad, some sandwiches, juice, meat and veggies that I don't even know.

"What is all this?"

"It is your diet. Doesn't it look delicious?" Dad emerges from the kitchen in his apron over his suit.

"It does look good but I don't think I can eat that much. It's morning you know."

"Y/n, you are competing for nationals. A proper diet is a must. Do you not want to look like this?" He says, flexing his biceps.