Monochromatic: Haikyuu Fanfic

Chapter 42: First and Worst

Oikawa's eyes are open the whole time they kissed.

If Oikawa were to be frank, it was... the worst kiss he has ever gotten. The girls he dated before know just how to move their soft lips against his - how to make Tooru relax into their kiss and reciprocate the gesture with much more fervor.

This - oh lord - is too clumsy. Fukui is crashing all her body weight on his unexpectedly, lips are not covered with shiny lip gloss of any kind (it's not Fukui's taste, after all) so it's a bit rough of Oikawa's. But the worst part is that her breaths smell like beer.

Oikawa couldn't move his body for a good five seconds.

And when he did move, he was too busy panicking because holy shit he just kissed his childhood friend to notice that Fukui fall straight onto the floor head first with a really loud thud. Ouch.

He slaps a hand to his face, warm, before rising up to his seat and scoops Fukui up with his arms to place her back onto her bedroom. Looking down on her face, red colors her face all the way down to the base of her neck from intoxication. And who is she to compliment Oikawa's eyelashes? Hers look pretty long too, curling upwards at the ends. And her slightly parted lips - pink and if she put on a little bit of gloss, maybe he would've enjoyed -

"What am I thinking...?" Oikawa mentally slaps his face. No. That's not how it's supposed to go. She doesn't like him. He doesn't like her. Not that way. Nope.

For someone who passed out from alcohol, she looks so damn peaceful.

By the end of the ruckus, Oikawa leaves the house, sparing Ayame a quick indulgent glance before shutting the door close.

-*-

Fukui wakes up with the smell of bacon.

Oh. And add the hangover with that too.

The bright sunlight entering her room pierces through her fucking eyes - holy shit every single part of her is so sensitive. Clattering of pans from kitchen echoes through the door and it's enough to give her a headache. All in all, she feels horrible.

The door creaks open with Takumi holding a tall glass of water, Haru following shortly behind, "We got you a drink."

Fukui feels like a knife was shoved into her ear, "Sh...Can you... talk softer..." She whispers with a raspy voice.

"I'm not even yelling..." Takumi says.

"Oikawa-niichan is cooking us breakfast," Haru helps Fukui sit up from her bed.

"Oh..." She drinks the water, and her stomach feels funny. Queasy. The two siblings head out to the door.

"You look like a witch. Get dressed in new clothes before you go outside." Takumi says in disgust, eyeing her blood and sweat-stained shirt and closes the door gently. Fukui just wants to get back to bed and sleep some more...

Even so, she still does what was told and shags off her clothes, leaving her in her underwear and bra. The cool air feels nice. She takes the time to look for comfy clothes in her closet.

That's when the small queasy feeling in her stomach grows steadily, and with each twist and bend of her body, it grows to new heights. She feels the muscles in her stomach and chest convulse, and her throat spasming to open wide.

Doesn't hangover symptoms include nausea?

The gagging sensation in her throat punctures a firm yes.

She urgently needs to go the the bathoom. Fast.

Fuck it. She drops all her clothes, sprints to the door in her underwear and slams it open.