Chapter Text
You stood in the kitchen, eyes glazing over as you stared blankly at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. There were water spots on the glasses and two-day-old dried streaks of sauce on the plates; it should have bothered you, but it didn’t.
You couldn’t pull yourself out of the slump. Not since you found out you were pregnant, since two pink lines rewrote a dumb crush on a friend into one of the biggest, most monumental fuck-ups of the year, maybe of your life. Just like that, everything had shifted, the story bending in a direction you’d never even dream to write.
You should have moved, washed the dishes, cleaned the counter…done something. Turn the goddamn page… but you didn’t. You just stood there, letting the silence of the apartment swallow you whole as you waited for the inevitable.
A knock at the door sent a jolt through you, dragging all the panic you’d been shoving down right back to the surface. For a moment, you considered ignoring it, pretending you weren’t home, until another knock came - firmer this time.
Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to move, each step toward the door feeling heavier than the last. Hesitantly, you grabbed the handle, fingers trembling slightly as you swung the door open.
Familiar eyes met yours, belonging to a face that tugged at something deep in your chest. For the first time in days, the suffocating weight eased, if only a little. Oikawa looked dewy, like he’d just stepped in from the rain, and your guess was confirmed when droplets from his damp brown hair dripped onto yours as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips.
It was unexpected. It had been a couple of weeks since you last saw each other, but this greeting was the warmest you’d ever had. There was something different in the way he held you, the way his lips lingered just a second longer than usual, like he was trying to memorise you, and for a moment, you almost believed he’d missed you. However, that was Oikawa’s charm or the devil’s work, as you’d come to think of it. All warmth and light, until it wasn’t. The illusion of mutual satisfaction, wrapped in momentary glory. It was enough to make anyone forget they were just another toy in his collection. You, on the other hand, were different. At least…you thought you were. You had your rules:
No dating.
No complications.
Even still, something in your story had begun to shift, where every page felt too calm, as if waiting for something to finally give… and now… now it would.
“It was just two friends enjoying something they both liked,” he’d said with that effortless fucking charm. “Just like if I were teaching you volleyball… if you actually cared to learn.”
Of course, you agreed. It was practical. The worst that could happen was a bit of awkwardness if someone caught feelings, a scenario you’d already expected.
Finally, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. Oikawa’s breath was uneven, and a lazy grin tugged at his lips.
“Hi.” His voice was low, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt deep in your chest.
You smiled, breathless. “Hi–”
Then he was kissing you again, like he’d been waiting all day just to do this. He didn’t rush, but there was something in his intent that pulled you.
“No….” You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him back. “This isn’t why I called you.”
Oikawa’s lips parted slightly, confusion flickering across his face before twisting into a mischievous grin. “Can’t it wait?” his hands find your waist again, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. “I’ve only got a few hours before I have to leave.”
Without missing a beat, he leaned in, lips brushing the corner of your mouth, but you turned your head away. Oikawa drew his brows together as he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his voice softening. “Y/n, what’s wrong?"
Despite what people thought, the infamously selfish Oikawa was always caring - maybe too caring sometimes. Well, at least once you get to know him. He made it so damn hard to keep your guard up, blurring the lines between friends with benefits and something else. The way he’d hold you after sleeping together, or how he’d trace slow, absentminded patterns on your skin, the way he’d text you after long days just to check in. It was too much for something that was supposed to be casual.
And now… this. A massive, unavoidable fork in the road. One so huge that there was no going back. Everything you thought you understood about him, or even yourself, was suddenly tangled in something far more complicated.
His hands slipped from your arms, sliding into the pockets of his trousers. That’s when it hit you - his unusually polished appearance.
Smart casual - tailored trousers that fit a little too well. A crisp button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. It was a stark contrast to the Oikawa who usually showed up at your doorstep in casual sweats, his volleyball uniform, or, if he felt particularly fancy that day, jeans and a two-day-old top that still smelled like practice.
It was jarring. The neatness. The purposeful effort. Like he had somewhere important to be. Or like he was trying to be someone else tonight.
“Important meeting?” you asked.
Oikawa’s eyes squinted, and his mouth parted slightly before abruptly closing. You tilted your head toward his outfit, and after a pause, he offered a sheepish response.
“Oh. Yeah, you could say that.” There’s a heavy, stretched-out silence. “So… am I coming in or not?”
You jumped slightly, realising you were still blocking the doorway. Stepping aside, you let him in, quietly following him into the apartment.
It was a far cry from anything luxurious, not even close - but it was a step above a typical cheap rental. Dimly lit yet clean, with a warm, open-plan layout and a neutral palette broken up by the occasional pop of colour. You’d always preferred simplicity; it made things easier to manage when your mind often felt like a cluttered mess. Your friends liked to tease that your apartment looked like a showroom, if not for the few framed photos that displayed your small circle of friends, you were sure they were right. But you didn’t mind. Minimalism brought you peace. When your thoughts spiralled out of control, you had just enough strategically placed hideaways to stash the chaos away. Out of sight, out of mind. Oikawa stood stiffly in the middle of it all, hands still shoved into his pockets. You mirrored his posture without meaning to, two rigid bodies, facing each other across a growing silence.
The weight of what was coming hung thick in the air, and for the first time since you’d met him, Oikawa - the confident, arrogant, always-in-control classmate - looked like he had no idea what to do.
He cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to the other.
God. You should have just done this over text.
“So… Do you want to stop seeing me?”
Your thoughts stumble, and you force a small exhale “What?”
Oikawa darted his eyes to the floor. “I mean, you mentioned a few weeks ago that some guy in your class wanted to study together or whatever. If that’s it, then I’ll go. No fuss”
Your heart picked up its pace.
Why would he remember that? Is that what he wants?
Oikawa was already stepping toward the door, shoulders tense like he was bracing for impact, and that’s when your words hit him like a stray volleyball to the chest, suddenly stealing the air right out of him. There was no rewinding time. No pretending everything was still the same.
"Toru, I’m pregnant."
The air in the room turned suffocating, thick with unspoken discomfort. It was as if the walls had closed in, the warmth of your well-kept apartment suddenly feeling stifling.
“What?”
You swallowed hard. “I said—”
“I heard you the first time.”
The feeling worsened. The walls are practically crushing your body. You had nowhere to run, and neither did he. There was no bravado, no teasing; his tone was sharp. You couldn’t remember him ever speaking to you like that. He briefly turned to face you, his breath hitching, chest rising and falling in uneven waves. His hands flew to his hair, fingers threading through the strands with frantic energy, tugging like he was trying to ground himself.
“Are you sure it’s – ”
Your head snapped toward him, heat flaring in your chest. "Don’t you dare."
He exhaled sharply, bordering on panicked. “I just meant—”
“I know exactly what you meant.” It came out tangled, forceful, but hesitation couldn’t help but wrap its dirty hands around your throat “I’m not seeing anyone else like that, so I’m sure it’s yours.”
“Right. Okay, sorry. Just… I mean, this is a lot to dump on me before I’m leaving.”
“Dump on you –”
“So… What are you going to do?”
“Me? –”
“I mean…” Oikawa began pacing, “This kinda feels like your call on things, right?”
You’d never really thought about wanting a family, or at least, the idea had never clawed its way to the front of your mind until now. But this? This was far from ideal. You had no means to raise a kid, no stable foundation to offer, especially when the two of you weren’t even in a relationship. You couldn’t even keep a house plant alive… This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. The silence was unyielding. You hadn’t moved and Oikawa hadn’t left, but he also wasn’t exactly staying. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad sign.
Then, so quietly you almost weren’t sure you’d heard him right, he said, “I’m not ready to be a dad, Y/N.” His voice wavered, something raw bleeding through. “I can’t be a dad. Not right now. I mean you couldn’t be a mum either, you know, you - how many house plants have you killed?”
Something inside you twisted, painfully tight. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because you hadn’t expected it to sting as much as it did, he was right but what the fuck. Maybe hearing it out loud made everything too real. A cold, hard fact instead of a whimsical maybe. Or maybe, deep down, you’d wanted a different reality.
“I do know myself. Do you think I haven't thought about all that? This involves you as well, whether you like it or not.”
Your words hang in the air, and Oikawa paused, taking a small step backwards. “Look, I told Iwaizumi I’d go with him to Tokyo. Just for a few days. Let’s… let’s talk about this when –”
“You can’t just leave. This involves the two of us!”
“Yeah, but I didn’t plan for this.” He shot back. “We were just having fun - not trying to have a fucking baby!”
“Do you not care? Not even a little?”
“Care?” He laughed bitterly, “I don’t even know what this means right now. I’m supposed to start my new career in a month, Y/N. Maybe you should’ve been more careful.”
You stepped forward. “That’s not fair! –”
“ – We. Both of us”
You clenched your jaw. “Well, clearly not - I could just as easily say you’re the one who got me into this.”
“Now, who’s being harsh and unfair? I didn’t ask for this either.”
“Neither of us did but you are being a selfish asshole right now.”
“If that’s so true, then maybe I should just go. Be that selfish asshole all the way.”
“Fine. But don’t expect me to do this alone.”
“Yeah… well, you got yourself into this. Don’t expect me to clean it up.”
He didn’t wait for your response. The door slammed shut, and you were left alone and for the first time, the apartment - your home - offered no comfort. The space you had so carefully curated, now felt wrong… like being trapped inside a chapter you could never rewrite.