His gaze remains on the scenery ( if buildings and shops could be considered a cityscape version ) outside the window. Despite the stillness in his body, his mind is restless. Thoughts turn, ideas churn, and accompanying it is this weight that settles in his chest. Behind him he hears the occasional soft whisper or a grumbling snore. They are half way home and Oikawa does not feel the same as he ( as they ) always did after a game. For once defeat comes in the form of not swans and eagles, but a flock of crows ( a murder ) and he can’t but have this hollow feeling in his chest. A weight drops onto his shoulder and it startles him out of his thoughts, head turning to see what it is his vice captain wanted. However, he finds himself staring at the top of the other’s head. Spiky black hair no more than an inch away from his face when he turned. “Iwa-chan…?” Oikawa asks softly, but he is greeted with silence.
Sleeping. Seijou’s ace deserved the rest as did the rest of his team. They did, after all, work very hard. He adjusts his shoulder ( as he always does to fit himself in connection to his team’s needs ) to make himself more comfortable for Hajime to rest on. There. His gaze flickers down to their hands, resting so close to one another, and he is tempted to see what would happen should he slip his into the other’s, but he leaves the other be. Sleep, Tooru thinks, is the best remedy for a tired body, soul, and mind. So it’s not long soon after that the brunette finds eyelids drooping until eyes are fully closed. If anything, sleep is meant to bring him into a state of peace, where his mind falls blank and he can abandon himself into a calming slumber. This calm he welcomes so he can forget the lump in his throat and the hollowness in his chest ( if only for a little while ).