another fic cause co-star comes through once again:
'Humans tend to be kinder to themselves in the morning than right before falling asleep at night'
In which , Kageyama Tobio has a lot to think about
🧁୭ ᵎᵎ tw warnings!!: depressive thoughts, self-deprication (dni if this makes u uncomfortable)
♬⋆.˚𝟏𝟏:𝟏𝟏˚ ༘⋆｡: -- start!!
If one were to ask Kageyama the reason for his indifference to the happenings of his immediate external environment, then the answer would be simple: he simply does not think of the world as this divine being to be scrutinized and be made discourse with. He is simply a being moving within the current of life, so whether one or the next thing happens, he has willed it to be, anything else was not in his peripheral, therefore a nonsensical interaction.
Oikawa has expressed multiple times, his frustration of Tobio's current predicament. Moreso, expressed vehemently, in creative lingo, the guileless tact he so approaches every situation as though it were a passing inconvinience unrelated to him. Such impassive demeanor, as mentioned by Oikawa, predilect unfortunate happenstance, and given Kageyama's posit on confrontation regards a spectrum of cluelessness and near pugnacious indignance, Oikawa's concern for his person is forthcoming, rightly, justified so. Kageyama, on multiple occasions, has asserted his independence on the matter, that he, a man in his greater twenties, need not be coddled like a child. And in near indignance, in a tone as vicious as it is sounds, he had bellowed: 'I managed to live as well as I have even without you, don't think for a second that I am less, you weren't there at my worst!'
Granted, that might have been the wrong verbocation at the time, for it had silenced Oikawa to a degree of hurt palpable through the scintilla of his eyes. The matter wasn't brought up again, yet the persistent voice of Oikawa thrums in his ear, ever so carefully in a morning that molds into the shape of his wandering thoughts, the cool breeze pasted on his cheeks as he dares to confront the dawn and cold in just workout clothes and the positive expectation that he can survive through his morning workout. Kageyama loves mornings, the life in the country was vibrant and filled with color, there were people you get to know without the expectation of actually knowing them. By watching, by observing, by routine, you get a glimpse of who they are as a person, people who walk their dogs, people who walk with their children and family, people who take the time out of their busy schedules to dole out a meager interaction- seldom punctuated by the excitement and cheeriness of an afternoon- amongst appearing clouds and people of the same likeness who enjoy the quiet coming of a morning. Kageyama sees beyond the dilated lens of a world moving past while everyone wants to remain still.
It is as much as a routine to be caught in this frenzied peace, to become part of the chaotic ripple of a thorough ocean of bodies and small happenings, the minute movement of Kageyama's feet pushing off the ground is nothing but a silent implosion no one will hear. He continues the trek, continues the life born out of a neccesity, remembers to watch the sky blososm into a vibrant blue before taking off in the opposite direction ready to retire backhome where he must be sure Oikawa is yet again waiting with a cup of milk for him. Oikawa joins sometimes. Sometimes he doesn't, but he has remained such a fixture in Kageyama's life it is difficult to imagine him as merely an apparition, which Kageyama is at most convinced he is. The careful fluttering of his lashes in the morning, the weight of his arm slung over Kageyama's waist, the pressure of his eyes as it roamed around Kageyama's body moving about the shared apartment, always so careful to graze his hand over his elbow in silent reassurance. Kageyama has learned that Oikawa Tooru functioned more in silence than anyone anticipated. There were things he, and only he seems to know. Whether it was the virtue of his gifted mind or Kageyama's ignorance in many matters, he shall never know. Kageyama is such an open book under his ministrations. Kageyama also values his guidance, though he wonders sometimes where the line of such charity begins and ends.
Is Oikawa's cherishing of him a conscious and avid matter? Does Kageyama even function to the extent required of autonomy? Or does Oikawa cajole him into things he does not know the process of which his mind registers Oikawa's demands?
He wasn't made for such precise thinking, his thoughts are rudimentary at most. It does not help that Oikawa's need for control sometimes triumphs their shared existence, his nitpicking and assessment of Kageyama's personality often the topic of discourse and eventually of arguement.
Kageyama understands that the world functions differently. That the people around him will always be friendly with each other even if they hate each other. That they'll always say good things to his face despite degrading him behind his back. He knows! But he doesn't have the capacity to pretend to be likekable!
And that's completely fine by him. It's fine. Totally fine. Because Kageyama is such a person that those thoughts as he breathes in the fresh and cool air aren't so much as thoughts but more of debris of a spontaneous night. It doesn't always cloy at him as it does. Doesn't bother him as much as Oikawa thinks it does.
But then sometimes it just happens.
In watching Oikawa, in seeing him in his element surrounded by people, being loved so openly, he has to reiterate he was already in a relationship. In ocmparison, Kageyama is always alone in these types of functions. Banquets weren't his thing. Charity events he tolerates for the chairty. The things that come easily to Oikawa has always been difficult for him. And sometimes Oikawa doesn't actually help. Sometimes, he talks too fast. Pushes Kageyama too often and leaves him in the presenc eof others when he doesn't want to be there. And it's all in good nature but, fuck. It's so draining.
Kageyama can't keep up with his energy.
And when they're back home. When they're retiring for the night, Oikawa suddenly has to get up because of a phone call. In some nights, Kageyama is left alone because Oikawa couldn't make it home so late in the night, so he'll just sleep over someone else's, says his goodnight's to Kageyama through a phone call. Alone in an empty apartment, with shadowed wall, and the sound of the air conditioner running with his breathing.
Kageyama had not known loneliness to be so formiddable, for he had grown with such monstrosity to be friends with it. Loneliness only festers when that sure stance of another's body moves through an apartment made for two people.
Kageyama had not known loneliness before Oikawa. Now?
Now, he thinks Oikawa should just leave him be.
It takes a while for it to come to conclusion because Kageyama was as confused as Oikawa was when he withdrew from all socializing even though they share ocmmon friends, why he suddenly grew silent at certain times of the day, why at night he refused to be held, why when he looks at Oikawa he sees a man so far out his reach the thought of reaching him- the thought itself!- scorched him.
He is Icarus drawn to the sun for which his sin is to yearn that which can never be held.
Oikawa holds him so tight, he burns from the inside. It consumes him to be loved. How can he ever think of Oikawa as anything else? Is he not then the problem? Is he not the one to be exiled and disected for what was wrong with a person such as he is?
Why is it when the moonlight glows, his skin turns pale as though it melts to show his bones?
Why does Kageyama think himself so unworthy?
But still, if there is one thing Kageyama was known for, it was to wear his heart on his sleeve.
Oikawa had known for quite a while that something was wrong. he just couldn't figure it out. Tobio rarely, rarely! ever gets upset to the point of solitude, but this was different. At first, he had thought, it was about their initial argument about his indifference with most things, but that wasn't it either.
"Do you not love me anymore?" Frustrated, with how things were going, Oikawa had decided to ask.
Kageyama pales at the suggestion. He had quickly compensated his horror, retaliating with silence, whihc had Oikawa panicking. His palms were sweaty and shaking, his heartbeat running against his chest he could feel it thrum along his bones.
The thought of being unloved made him so sich to his stomach.
Yet, Tobio- Tobio wasn't saying anything?
He was just looking. Looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
"Do you- Do you not-" OIkawa couldn't say the words. "Look I know I said some things, love. But please," Oikawa begged, "I don't want to lose you. You haven't even given me a chance, hm? What's wrong with us, Tobio? What changed?"
Kageyama was so distraught, he couldn't answer. He just shook his head, his fingetips numb up to the wrist. His feet couldn't move but he was sure he was trying to run away.
"Tobio, please," Oikawa takes hold of his wrists. "You avoid me. You avoid everyone. You don't want to talk. You don't even let me hold you anymore. You used to love it when I prepare your favorite milk in your favorite mug, but you haven't even looked at it these days, You refuse to drink it when I'm here. I caught you one too many times gagging when you try to. Do I repulse you, Tobio? Do you me so much even your body rejects me now?"
"I- I don't know. I don't know. I don't know!" Kageyama brusts out crying.
It's not an outburst. That's what Oikawa realizes, Tobio seldom cries. It's the slow trickle of tears from his eyes as though he were holding them back, as though it were an inconvenience if he was heard crying. Oikawa hurts for him.
"Tobio," he starts slowly. Taking hold of Tobio's wrist as gentle as he can, pulling them apart so he could see his face, cupping his reddening cheeks and kissing those tears away.
It takes a while, but Kageyame eventually speaks. "I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate myself so much. I don't get it, but I do," he sobs through tears.
"What? Why? What- But your-"
"I hate it. I hate it so much because I- I hate you so much too. B-but I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't, but I do! I do, and it hurts because why!"
"Why do you hate yourself, Tobio?" Oikawa tries again.
"Because I'm not supposed to hate you." He admits. "You're so nice to me. You don't get angry when I get angry. You try to calm me down. You bring me to museums and aquariums and stuff. And you like taking me everywhere with you. And you always remind me things. And- and you treat me so well, I hate you for it. Because I can't do the same. . . I just keep wanting and wanting."
"What's the difference, Tobio? I want you just as much."
"But- I'm just me. . . and you're-"
"Even if you hate, I'll find it in myself to love you just as much." Oikawa looks in his eyes.
And he might be biased, but Tobio's such a pretty crier. The way his eyes redden at the corner, and the blue hue of it vascillate between thunderstorms and calm lakes.
"You can't love me that much."
Oikawa laughs as Tobio buries his head in his chest. "I'm not perfect the way you think I am, Tobio."
"I'm really not. I'm really not," he affirms.
Because, how do you tell the person you love that you're trying to make up for the fuck up you were when you were in middleschool?
i have no idea where this ended up in. i just went with it.
