Haikyuu Imagines. {Haikyuu x Reader}

Broken.(Tōru Oikawa)

-Enjoy! I am so sorry if this is crappy. But it has hints about a mental disorder, so if you are really sensitive please reconsider your choice of reading this. It's pretty mild and it has a relatively good ending, so I think it will be okay. Also, Oikawa's personality was exaggerated on purpose, he may even sound sadistic. But that's all to support the content of this oneshot, so if he acts a little OOC, I hope you can overlook it.-

  Every single human being on this planet has a weakness. Some have less than others, while some have more. Oikawa thought it was rather ironic, how a species so weak could be positioned at the top of the food chain.  As you were a part of this vulnerable class, you had an abundance of weaknesses yourself.  You always make sure you steer away from the grand king, because he knew exactly how to break you into millions of pieces. 

  Oikawa was pretty surprised when you figured out his deceiving little plan. The majority of his naive peers would have instantly been won over by his flirtatious demeanour, but his charm never seemed to work on you. Naturally enough, he had figured out your weaknesses, as they were laid bare for him to mock. That was the original plan anyway. He wanted to leech out every single secret that resided behind those (Your Eye Color) eyes. But now that he realised how difficult it was to expose you, he started to develop complex sentiments about you. To put it generously, you had his utmost respect.

  You were always the quiet kid to begin with. When Oikawa first transferred over, he didn't even consider giving you a second glance. You weren't special enough for his royal eyes to feast upon. He wanted worthier prey to torment. However, as time passed on, he noticed your presence a little at a time, until you were the only thing he saw every single day. He was irritably confused, how could someone with so many weaknesses, be so unfathomably unbreakable?

  Perhaps it was a mistake to place you on the highest alter. It was one Tuesday afternoon when he finally watched you crumbling into nothingness. Someone so stoic and composed was breaking right in front of him. Usually he would feel the immense pleasure and satisfaction from witnessing such a glorious scene. Yet he felt even more troubled and helplessly angry. So he watched silently while he surpassed the urge to rush over to your side.

  Your mind was like an unstable fireplace. One day it would burn brightly and it's delicious flames would provide you with not only warmth, but happiness as well. You felt alive, a splitting image of the orange flickers growing stronger as the flames of innocence lick at the wood that fuelled them. Yet the happiness would almost always vanish as a fire would die out eventually. No matter how big a flame, there is no such thing as burning for eternity in your eyes. Maybe your mind was a spawn of Hell itself, or maybe it was from the unknown. You don't know which scares you the most.

  So at your desk you sat. Everybody had gone home and you were the only one in the empty classroom. The sky was dimming, yet you paid it no heed as your eyes dart around the images that formed in your eyes. Your mind was dark, nothing amongst the ashes of your soul could reignite even a tiny spark. You felt liberated in the silence, but even that little comfort was ripped away from you. Every living second of the episodes of your illness, you swam in an endless void that had no intentions of letting you go from it's tight grip.

  Oikawa's eyes narrowed as he observed you grip the edges of the table tightly as the darkness threatened to contaminate your sanity. He could feel the pain and loneliness practically radiate off your trembling body. His own heartless chest contracts as he notices how hard you were trying. He was witnessing an intricate vase shattering into a million pieces, and there he stood, staring at the shards that lay glistening in the evening sun. Hysterical sobs numb his ears as he emerged from behind the door to crouch down towards a broken girl fighting ruthlessly to reclaim herself. His hand reached out without hesitation before pulling the back of your head towards his broad chest.

No words were spoken and no questions were asked.

The sun's gentle touch eased the clouds apart to allow it's rays to beam through.

He was the sun.