Savage (An Oikawa Story)

Scars Will Heal

~edited~ July 27th, 2020

trigger warnings: cutting

Tooru's POV

I could only watch as Y/N exited the gym, too stunned to speak, and unable to move. Her words echoed in my mind to a jarring melody, the defeated lilt of her alto an embodiment of heartbreak.

And to think that her heart broke for me.

It's you, Tooru.

Now, here's the thing. I didn't fall in love with (l/n) all at once; there wasn't a romantic locking of eyes, nor a moment where I realized I found her beautiful. No matter what you might think, I didn't fall in love with (l/n) because some divine force pushed us together and declared it fate. I fell for her in increments, like rain to river to ocean.

The only person who had a hand in it was me, although I was not in love with her then. I was merely interested, and how could I not be? She was so unique, so unlike any girl I'd ever met. When we first met in science last year, she gave me one look over before burying her nose in her textbook. I was incredibly offended- after all, true beauty should be admired-  and figured she was one of those emo girls who proclaim that boys like me are attractive but not 'art', but I quickly realized that Y/N treated everyone like that. Like objects in a game she was hell bent on winning, every lunch spent studying and brownie point bringing her one step closer.

But somehow, I knew it was all an act, that Y/N wasn't just a teacher's pet. No teacher's pet's eyes glimmered with such purpose- no, she burned.

Intrigued, I began to study her. Iwa-chan was the only one I told about my endeavor.

"Isn't she so interesting?" I mentioned one morning, after waving off the last of the fan girls.

"Who, Y/N? She's pretty chill, yeah. But she has a reputation for being no nonsense to the point of straight up roasting people who annoy her. Today she heard a girl call Makki a homo and told her that she was a homosapien. Pretty badass." He remarked.

"Not all heroes wear capes." I said between laughs. Even after I calmed down, my smile lingered. "You know how people are said to have layers?" I looked on as Y/N slammed her locker shut a few doors down, brushing past other students as if they weren't there.

"She's a gold mine, and I'm going to figure her out."

I never did. Maybe because she concealed it so well, or maybe because I looked away at all the wrong times. But even before I found myself sitting next to her in Mr. Uchicha's classroom, I knew she was holding herself hostage, as if it was the only way she knew how to live.

What are you hiding, Y/N?

I had suspected she was a secret agent.
I never imagined she would be a victim of abuse until I saw it with my own two eyes and gripped it between my hands.

Back at the house, (l/n) had been quiet. She'd sat on my couch like she'd done earlier today, except instead of allowing a few half smiles to shine through her tiger mom exterior, (which thoroughly took my breath away) she now stared off into space and then looked at me with relief in her eyes.

"What do you have to apologize for?" was what she said after I apologized.

Everything. I wanted to say. But most of all, for watching you from a distance.

I ended up saying something stupid, she had smiled, and then we'd cried. From that moment on, I promised myself I'd befriend her properly, not just quietly ruminate over her existence. What I didn't expect was for her to surpass the expectations I'd had. Every savage remark and quiet moment of empathy took me by surprise, and we found we had a lot more in common than liking art.