Blue Star || Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Chapter 1: Burnout

(edit) A/N: I'm so so so sorry everyone, I forgot about trigger warnings! Jesus christ, I'm dumb, here they are!

(TW: Mentions of self-harm (it's a prominent character theme), minor depiction of PTSD, familial issues, depiction of what's basically Gifted Kid Burnout Syndrome for a student athlete)

~~

Sometimes I think the Universe had to take me down a notch because I was getting too powerful. All the good things happening in my life severely outnumbered the bad, and that made the powers that be go, "Oops!" and take me out with a nice kick to the hypothetical balls. At least, that's what I think.

"Is this really everything?" A deep voice asks from the doorway.

I turn to see a large, imposing figure standing in my doorway. Growing up, I had always been taller than Wakatoshi, and I took great pride in it. That is, until he grew six inches in one summer after our second year of middle school. Since then, the boy had been growing at a ridiculous rate. A year or so later, I stopped growing entirely, and the rest is an unfortunate history.

Wakatoshi sets down the cardboard box he's carrying and makes his way over to me.

"Yeah, the movers brought the bigger stuff yesterday," I tell him from my spot on the brand new couch.

He let the subject drop, but he's right to be a bit confused. Aside from my appliances, I had a couch, a TV, but no cable box because no one needs cable anymore, a bed, a cat tree, and three large boxes. It looks nothing like my room back home. The walls were a bleak off-white with no decorations whatsoever. My bedroom in Tokyo was navy blue one two walls and grey on the other two. It was littered with polaroids of me and Wakatoshi, posters, plushies, a whole drawer full of those 'Outstanding Citizen' awards they give everyone in elementary school, and, of course, an absolutely ungodly amount of volleyball stuff. Eight years worth of jerseys, knee pads, trophies, plaques, and spandex. My room looked like one of those themed rooms you see in model homes, which was exactly the reason I didn't bring any of it with me to Miyagi.

I treat Wakatoshi to fried chicken for helping me move, even though I didn't have a whole lot of stuff to begin with. Since he started growing so much, he'd been eating twice his body weight in food. His eyes linger curiously on the single drumstick I'd hardly touched, but he doesn't comment.

"Drink all of this," he demands, handing me a Gabrisun.

I frown. "All of it?"

Wakatoshi just stares at me intensely until I give in.

I take tiny sips from the little yellow straw while I tune out whatever Wakatoshi's saying about it being good for my blood sugar. As I zone out, I stare at one of the smaller boxes sitting in the corner of the living room. Seeing it makes my jaw tense again. I hadn't intended to bring any of those things, but my mother must have snuck it to the movers when I was at PT or something. When my parents decided to ship me a couple prefectures away - by myself, by the way - I expected to have some level of freedom at that point. Apparently I was wrong.

Irritated beyond belief, I get up and stalk over to the box. I glower at it like it was a deliberate attack on my personal honor - which it was - and carried it to my bedroom. I just barely stop myself from drop kicking it into the deepest corner of the closet. When I walk back into the living room, Wakatoshi is staring at me again. He has a bad habit of that, and it doesn't help that his expression is clearly concerned.

But I don't want his concern.

"What?" I snap at him.

I immediately feel guilty for it, but I don't say anything. I'm irritable because of the move and because of that dumb box. Wakatoshi, of all people, doesn't deserve to deal with my bullshit, but he's the only one here, and I'm not mature enough to stop myself.