About Pain | Oikawa Tooru"Sorry to bother you," Oikawa says to you, his voice low, "I know it's late."
'It's been raining ever since the match ended, and his shirt's now soaked - clinging onto his skin, almost burning him with its numb cold. And the sky's dark, mournful, and Oikawa's feeling nauseous too as if those very same clouds have been rammed into his head, a headache, close to rupturing open his brain. Little shreds of flesh, flying out. Blood everywhere.
But not really. He's just overreacting. Oikawa has long accepted that he tends to be a ''drama queen''.
"'You're never a bother," she replies, smiling (but there's a touch of worry in her eyes: he's never been so apologetic before). "Do you want to come in? You'll get wet."
She laughs, but it wasn't designed to be a joke, and Oikawa's too tired to find it funny.
"I wanted to say thank you for your support up till now," Oikawa begins, with his pitch still monotone, like he's reading off a script, like he's not quite there. "I was happy, f