( &. black: oikawa x ushijima )
Practice had finished, and the members of Waseda’s men’s volleyball league had taken to the locker room to shower and change back to street clothes. Oikawa himself was among them, toweling off his damp hair as he made his way towards the door, expression blank as he tries to deal with the shock of learning that the very person that he’d spent a majority of his lifetime in constant competition with was now going to be a necessary component to win. He wasn’t sure how to take that concept, and so he had been almost uncharacteristically quiet during practice, soulless gaze boring holes into whoever was unfortunate enough to gain his attention. Perhaps not the best first impression for his teammates, but he’d easily made up for it with his ability to quickly sync with all except one wing spiker. Throwing the damp towel into his gym bag, he’s practically on autopilot as he heads out the door in the hopes that some fresh air will do something to bring him back to reality. This was just some really shitty dream, right?” “Oikawa.” The sound of his name so unexpectedly causes him to startle, whipping around on his heel and looking around quickly before his eyes come to rest on the object of his strife. “What the hell could you possibly want right now Ushijima?” He asks, doing nothing to hide the irritation and hostility in his tone as his dark gaze focuses on the other male. “Practice is over, go home.” ( @whiteagleace )