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throughtheinterstices · 3 years

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for the one who does not wear his heart on his sleeves (feat. oikawa tooru's onee-san)

❝ oikawa tooru does not wear his heart on his sleeves. oikawa toura, his older sister, knows this well. ❞

characters. oikawa toura, tooru’s onee-san; oikawa t. x fem!reader

genre. drama, comedy, slight romance

word count. 4.8k words

warnings. themes of teenage pregnancy

a/n. i wanted to delve a bit into tooru's character and thought, "who else would let us get to know him better than his older sister?" reblogs are appreciated. and as always, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

及川 Oikawa reaching the river

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. This didn’t stop girls from clinging on to them, however.

Oikawa Toura contemplated on this every time her younger brother got himself a girlfriend.

She figured that his handsome looks, good grades, athletic talent, and irresistible charm make up for it. (Not that she would ever admit it to her younger brother. Even then, Tooru wouldn’t be able to get all the credit. The Oikawa genes were impeccably attractive, so they all possessed the same assets anyway.)

The girls started to flock him when he was really young. Tooru was a cute and energetic kid. He was always running around with a volleyball that he loved to toss and a unique boyish charm that made him beguiling.

It was no wonder that his first grade classmate in elementary always lent Tooru her princess stickers-filled pencils whenever he “forgot” to bring his own, that Tooru weighed surprisingly heavier one time in elementary school because he always had extra to eat during meal times (courtesy of his third grade seatmate), that Tooru went home blushing one time during pre-school because a cute girl kissed him on the cheek. Toura, herself, was amused by his early puppy-love kind of escapades.

But as leaves changed color and as the siblings experienced more that life had to offer, Oikawa Toura found herself concerned about her brother. Tooru, as a kid, was a fluffy cinnamon roll that everyone wanted to devour. As a teenager, he was something else. He was growing well into the magnetic Oikawa looks, with the towering height, the playful grins, the captivating russet eyes. Partner it with his fastidious methods of fixing up, he was practically teenage royalty.

But as all teenagers were, it was easy for all the attention to get into his head. So Toura took it upon herself to keep him on his toes and to give him a few slaps back to reality.

“Ouch!” Tooru recoiled from his sister’s hand. “What was that for?”

“Stop acting like a superstar!” Toura hissed, her eyes molding into the famous Oikawa glare that she inherited from her mother. She sneaked a glance toward the flock of girls they passed by a second earlier. “You’re not only embarrassing me, you’re also embarrassing yourself!”

Tooru raised his hands in defense. “I was just waving! Is it so bad to be polite?”

“Being courteous and narcissistic are two different things!”

“Me? Narcissistic?” Tooru put a palm to his heart.

“Yeah! I’ve heard a few things about you lately!” Toura accused.

“Ya!” Tooru fished for his phone. “When did Iwa-chan become so talkative?”

Toura swiped his phone away in a flash. “You think Iwa’s the only one who notices your obnoxiousness? A lot of different people come to me just to put you in your place! Do them a favor and turn it down a bit, huh?”

Tooru huffed in disbelief. “You? Just who would do that? Everyone’s scared of you!”

Murder. That was what Toura was going to do. “What did you just say?”

Toura most often gave her brother tough love. It really couldn’t be avoided with a sibling as exasperating as Tooru. It was what his thick head needed. At first, the elder sister was frustrated whenever her brother would brush her off, would be so defensive, would grumble blatantly to the side, and sometimes would even run away at the very sight of his “nagging” sister.

Later on, these younger brother tendencies would put a knowing smile on Toura’s face. Toura thought that she would be forever pulling Tooru by the ear, yapping at him to “be nice” to his juniors or to “treat that girl well.” Apparently, forever was a bit too much. She realized this once during a phone call with her brother’s best friend.

“Iwa!” Toura called into her phone, as she exited her the room of her son, who was finishing his homework.

“Hai, onee-san!” the person on the other line coughed.

“How are you?” she chirped, entering the kitchen. “I heard you’re one of the main players for the team this year! Congratulations!”

Talking to Tooru’s friends was one of the joys of her life. When they first met her, she might have gone overboard with the fierce act and left them terrified. Through the years, they slowly got over it but she was still her mother’s daughter who inherited her temper. Tooru’s friends became witnesses to her losing it a couple of times so she couldn’t really blame them for being careful around her. Toura used their wariness to have fun once in a while.

“Ah, thank you very much,” Iwaizumi answered, brief and respectful.

Toura grinned, whipping out some strawberries from the fridge. “Iwa! You’re so polite, unlike some people I know!”

Iwaizumi hurried to reply. “Don’t worry, onee-san, Oikawa’s on his way home.”

Such loyal friends, Tooru. “Hmm? I didn’t ask for him.”

“But you were going to… right?” Iwaizumi’s hesitation was too adorable.

“Yes, sorry to bother you all the time, Iwa.” Toura tried to keep her tone sweet. “Let me just ask, is there a particular reason as to why this onee-san has to make excuses for her little brother’s lateness?”

If he was bullying the first years again…

“He’s helping the first years with their serves,” Iwaizumi said. “Sometimes with their spikes too.”

Huh. “Really?”

“Hai.”

“And how’s that been going so far?” Toura asked.

“Hmm… I can’t say really…” Iwaizumi said. “A few days of practice won’t really show much results but somehow the first years don’t seem too lost. Though sometimes they do seem irked by Oikawa’s stupid perso—”

The other line went silent.

Toura laughed. How cute.

“It’s okay, Iwa! I have firsthand experience with that stupid personality of his. Totally understandable.”

She could hear his breath of relief.

“Okaa-san!” Takeru’s voice echoed from the hall.

“I have to go, Iwa. I’ll cover for him but tell him he has to wash the dishes for two weeks.”

Toura hung up, shaking her head at the thought of her (not so) agitating brother.

Though Tooru put up a prickly front, deep down inside, Toura knew her brother always listened to the important things she said. With this, Toura was relieved. At the same time, she was concerned. Rivers looked shallow from those who viewed it from afar. A closer look would let people’s eyes see the depth of its waters. What Toura worried about was that people only saw her brother for the things that were skin deep. Worse, that they only loved him for these things.

Tooru was more than those. If only people looked a little closer and deeper.

冬麗 Toura winter, beautiful

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Oikawa Toura felt she was partly to blame.

She was eighteen, just about to enter college. It was the spring of life. New beginnings. New opportunities. Adversities would come her way. That was inevitable. She expected them to come like light rainfall, showering her days with just enough raindrops to make every color vibrant and with just enough trouble for her to appreciate the good and to grow steadily as she went. She was an Oikawa, adept with the woes of the water. She would conquer it just like she did all the other times, with the cutting russet eyes of her father and the fiery disposition of her mother.

At least, she was supposed to.

Spring was the season of new life. She was prepared for all of the changes that were coming, all except for the birth of the new life growing inside of her. Toura was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Takeru. Tooru was nine.

The light drizzle she was anticipating was nothing compared to the storms that came.

The strongest downpour surged one night in the kitchen of the Oikawa household. Lights all around the house were dimmed. Windows were shut. Doors were locked. Tooru was tucked impatiently to bed earlier than usual.

All throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, the usual sanctuary of home-cooked meals and family banter became a cold court of trial. Eyes were bloodshot: Toura’s from crying, her mother’s from exhaustion, her father’s from anger. Hands were shaking: Toura’s from hopelessness, her mother’s from pity, her father’s from disappointment.

Toura had never seen her parents the way they were that night. Her mother was normally the raging one, with all the scathing beration and the matching fiery gaze. That time, it was her father, her typically sarcastic laid back father, who was blazing with fury.

By the early morning, all backs were slumped. All voices were hoarse.

As Toura crawled her way back into her room, she heard the hurried shutting of a door.

Tooru was awake.

At that time, Toura didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She just dragged herself to bed and hoped to forget, even just for a while.

As much as her parents tried to act ordinarily, Tooru was an intelligent kid. He heard the raised voices at midnight when they thought he was asleep. He heard his sister’s muffled cries as she crawled her way back into her room. He noticed her carefully hidden swollen eyes in the morning. He saw through everyone’s strained smiles the weeks that followed.

Keeping true to his family name, as the river followed the path the soil has carved for it, he followed the flow that his family had created. He never questioned the changes that happened within their home and their family. Yet, he never remained idle either.

The season was spring. However, it had never been more winter for Oikawa Toura. The sun was still high and shining down on the secluded playground near the Oikawa household; even so, Toura had never been so cold. She was donning her favorite sweater and held tightly toward her father’s coat (for comfort or for warmth, she was not sure) but it was to no avail.

Toura was seated on a park bench, with a child blooming inside her womb and the father sitting beside her.

The “father.”

Among the excellent genes of the Oikawas were some not-so-pleasant ones, such as sarcasm or hot tempers (this comes from the mother’s side though). Stupidity was not one of them. Oikawa Toura could take a hint. Hints, to be more accurate.

After dropping the bomb on her boyfriend, after having a long crying session with him, after listening to all his promises of “we’re going to figure this out,” after seeing him off as he shipped himself to Tokyo and she stayed in Miyagi, after weeks of pruned text messages, and after complete utter silence in the end, Oikawa Toura knew that he did not want to be a “father.”

Toura sighed. “Just get to the point.”

She did not even turn to know that he had whirled around to face her. That was how much she knew him. Loved him.

Hell.

“I—can’t.” The crack in his voice broke her. Or maybe it was the meaning of his words. Or maybe, she had been long broken, way back from the moment he first chose to leave.

Well, this time, I’m the one leaving.

“Okay,” Toura whispered. It was the most difficult thing to do, to pull herself up and walk away from him.

“Wait—”

Toura halted. She almost turned back and buried herself in his arms.

If not for the whirling volleyball, the sound of the collision, and the groan.

She did pivot her head a bit, just enough to see her boyf—ex-boyfriend crumpled on the floor, his hands clutching at some very painful goods.

Before she could do anything, her hand was tugged by a familiar grasp and towed away from the scene.

Right there, Oikawa Tooru, with one arm clutching a volleyball tucked and the other on her sister, was walking briskly, a resolute look on his face.

Toura did not exactly know the right response. She had always been a slave to her emotions. She knew, because she was going to become a mother soon, she had to let this go, but to hell with it, there was still time.

“Hey,” she found herself saying. “Nice kill.”

Tooru swiveled in surprise. Just as quickly, irritation morphed in his features. “I was aiming for his head actually.”

“Well then, actually aim for what you hit next time.”

After a long while, Oikawa Toura found herself grinning.

At eighteen, Oikawa Toura had to face the consequences of her actions. She had to endure their relatives’ disappointment and mocking. She had to put up with the whispers around their town. Sendai’s golden girl was ruined. The girls who used to want to befriend her disappeared. The guys who ogled at her never looked at her again.

Spring, summer, and autumn all felt like winter to Toura. How symbolic. She finally lived up to her name.

Oikawa Toura. River. Winter.

What exactly happened to the river during winter? It went cold. Sometimes, it even froze. That was how she survived it all. Oikawa Toura chose to harden herself to everyone’s frigidity, to life’s cold harsh truth.

Tooru was aware of it all. At nine years old, he learned that if he showed vulnerability, he wouldn’t leave the battlefield intact. Especially in their world. If he showed his heart to the wrong people, he was bound to get hurt.

So at nine, Oikawa Tooru buried his heart deep within himself and only allowed a few people in.

徹 Tooru to go through, committing to one thing to the end

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. His love was rare.

When it came to love, Tooru was one who used his head. He only gave his love to the people and the things that he knew would be worth it. This was why he revealed his heart only to a few chosen.

To his family: his nonchalant father, his fierce mother, his headstrong sister, his cute nephew.

To his close friends: his reliable Iwa-chan, his bright Makki, his good-natured Mattsun.

And of course, to volleyball.

However, even with all the preventive measures her younger brother had taken, Oikawa Toura knew that it could not protect him from heartbreak.

“I’m going to bed. Already ate.”

Toura watched as Tooru climbed the stairs with heavy feet, sagged shoulders, and defeated eyes.

She gave an inquiring look to their mother. “He got benched today. In their game with Shiratorizawa.”

“Oh,” Toura replied.

She heard her son’s light footsteps running towards the stairs. “Toowu! Toowu! Let’s pway!”

She caught Takeru before he managed to reach the second floor and shushed him. “Tooru-ojisan isn’t feeling well today, Takeru.”

Toura watched her son pout. She mussed his hair and said, “You can play with him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be better by then.”

Toura was frantically scrolling through different contacts on her phone when Tooru came in and announced, “I’ll take Takeru to his volleyball lessons.”

His older sister stared at him, dumbfounded.

“On Monday, right?” Tooru said, rummaging through the fridge.

Toura was confused. “I thought your girlfriend was going to introduce you to her parents on Monday.”

“Nah,” Tooru answered, his fingers shifting back and forth from the banana milk to strawberry milk.

“What do you mean ‘nah?’ I thought you really liked this girl?” Toura said.

“Apparently, I liked volleyball more and she grew tired,” Tooru replied, finally getting his hands on the banana milk.

Toura scoffed. “Well, I never even liked her in the first place.”

“I know.” Tooru drilled his straw through his drink. “Don’t worry about Takeru, nee-san. I’ll take care of him.”

Tooru moved to leave the room. Toura called him back. “Oi. You okay?”

Her younger brother paused for half a second—half a second too long—before turning back. He waved his hand as if to disregard the entire thing. “Of course. Onee-san, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”

Toura rolled her eyes at her grinning brother. It was when Tooru left that his older sister felt more unsettled.

He was Oikawa Tooru. He tried to show everybody that he just brushed off his worries. He had inherited their father’s devil-may-care façade and his tendency to mask his problems by joking about them. But when he’s alone, Toura knew that Tooru took everything hard.

Toura wished she could spare her brother the pain because she knew how cruel life was. She knew she could not.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Then you came along.

Out of all the girls Tooru had had, you were different. First of all, you weren’t even his girlfriend. You were just a friend. Someone who lashed out on him for punching a vending machine and later on, found your way into his inner circle.

Safe to say, Oikawa Toura was quite alarmed, skeptical, and just a little bit curious.

“So you mean to say that you really didn’t know who he was?” Toura asked you. The two of you were sitting beside the makeshift court on the backyard of the Oikawa household, watching Tooru and his friends play volleyball with Takeru.

You buried your head into your hands. “He told you?”

“Psh.” Matsukawa appeared in front of you. “Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Here? Of course not!”

“I told her!” Hanamaki said, taking a swig of the tea you and Toura bought.

Toura held her palm up for a high five. Hanamaki eagerly returned it.

“Ya! My own friends! How could you?” Tooru barked, hurling a volleyball towards them.

Iwaizumi easily dodged it, choosing carefully among the pastries laid out. “How could we not?”

“Aww, was wittle Toowu’s pwide hurt?” Toura teased.

Tooru made a face and turned to his nephew.

“Look Takeru, this is not something you should copy from your mother!”

Toura retaliated, hugging her son close to her. “Takeru, unlike your oji-san, you should stay humble, okay?”

Takeru, used to her mother and uncle’s banter, wiggled free of his mother’s grasp, ignored the two of them, and dug into the pastries you bought.

Toura tried not to be hurt by her son’s actions and diverted her attention to you instead.

Resting her cheek against her palm, she asked, “How did the two of you actually, well, talk to each other then? I mean, YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO HE WAS.” She added the emphasis just to irk her brother.

Effective. He was staring daggers at her.

Lifting your face from your hands, you answered, “Well, he was out punching vending machines by the gym—"

Toura wheeled towards Tooru’s direction. “You punched a vending machine?”

“I was having a bad day,” Tooru muttered, suddenly preoccupied with snacks.

Briefly, his gaze shifted to you. You looked back at him with sympathetic understanding.

Hmm…

Mornings were hectic in the Oikawa household. Everyone had somewhere they needed to be. Movement filled the house and a string of “ittekimassu” followed. On this particular Monday, the two siblings were the last to go.

As they were putting on their shoes, Toura was intrigued by the two bento boxes Tooru had packed.

“How hungry are you?” Toura remarked.

“The other one’s for the smart girl of the group,” Tooru said, standing up and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s too engrossed in her books that sometimes, she forgets to eat.”

Clicking her heels in place, Toura asked, “Just who is she to you, Tooru?”

Tooru’s hands froze. “What kind of question is that?”

Toura gave him a pointed look.

“She’s my best friend!”

“I thought Iwa was your best friend.”

“He is!” Tooru exclaimed. “This is different!”

“I’ll say!” Toura turned her back to him. “Ittekimasu!”

“Ya! Onee-san!”

Toura rushed into the halls of her former alma mater. Her steps quickened as she caught sight of the infirmary.

“How’s my brother?” Toura nearly shoved her face into the school nurse’s. “Will he still be able to play?”

This was Tooru’s second knee injury. It would excruciatingly break his heart if his volleyball dreams ended here.

“I can’t say,” the nurse said, breaking the news softly. “He needs to see a doctor first.”

Toura’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”

“In the other room.” The nurse pointed to the door of the adjoining room.

Toura nodded. She turned the knob slowly and quietly, just in case Tooru was asleep.

He wasn’t. Toura heard his muffled sobs before she saw your figure tightly holding on to her younger brother. His shoulders were shaking. It seemed like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“This is the one thing I’m good at!” Tooru cried. “Hard work! And even in this, I failed!”

“Shhh,” you say. “It’s not a failure. It’s a setback.”

“Yeah, right.” He pulled back from your embrace. “What if… What if this is the end for me? What if all those years of proving I’m worth something, of chasing after Ushiwaka, of outrunning Kageyama… What if it all just ends here?”

Toura remained before the door. She waited to hear what you would say. Personally, she didn’t know how to respond. How does one answer to that?

“Then let it end here,” you said. Toura gasped.

Tooru’s eyes bulged.

“Chasing Ushiwaka, beating Kageyama… Let that all end here. Why did you choose to play volleyball?”

Something dawned in Tooru. “I… love to play volleyball… Always have…”

“That’s right. You love volleyball. It sharpens your senses. It makes you feel alive. I’ve seen it. This is why you play volleyball.” Your voice was as unwavering as you gaze.

You softened. “It’s not going to end here, Tooru. No matter what happens, even if it takes millions of therapy sessions, I know and you know that you’re not going to let it end here.”

Toura carefully closed the door, not wanting to intrude in their intimate discussion. Before she did, she saw the change in her younger brother’s previously defeated expression. It was now hopeful.

She did not know what would happen next. Perhaps, hope was what he needed most. Toura felt most grateful for your presence in that moment.

The crowd screamed as one of Tooru’s serves reached Shiratorizawa’s side of the court unreceived. First set won by Aoba Jousai!

Toura joined them with her own set of cheers. “That’s my baby brother right there!”

Takeru pretended as if he wasn’t related to her. You erupted in laughter beside her.

Toura faced you, flashing you a broad smile.

“I think he heard you!” you shout, pointing to the scowl on Tooru’s face, evident even from the stands.

Toura stuck her tongue out at her brother. It was obvious where he got that from.

To add fuel to the fire, Toura gestured to his jersey and tilted her head towards you, as if to say, “So you gave her your jersey, huh?”

Tooru reddened and avoided his gaze, running uncharacteristically towards his teammates.

Toura smirked. Best friend my ass.

“I told him his hard work would pay off,” she heard you whisper. “He sells himself so short sometimes.”

Toura watched as you mumble things to yourself, touched by your affection towards her brother.

Out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to let everyone see. You weren’t starry-eyed for him. You didn’t let him off the hook from all of his pettiness and faults. Somehow, you inspired him to rise above his inferiorities and become better. Remarkably, you were able to let him break down all the barriers that he put up.

It was safe to say that out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you were the one his older sister liked best.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Because he knew that love was pain.

“Tadaima,” Tooru called softly.

It was the night before his flight to Argentina. A few minutes ago, the Oikawa household was a boisterous place, filled with Oikawa relatives and Tooru’s teammates and friends. The clamor earlier was the opposite of the silence that echoed as Tooru slipped in.

“I’m here,” Toura called from the backyard.

“What are you doing here?” Tooru asked, taking a seat beside his onee-san.

Toura puckered her lips. “I was waiting for my favorite baby brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Tooru pointed out. “And will you please stop it with the ‘baby?’ I’m an adult now! I’m even going to Argentina tomorrow.”

“I know.” Toura sighed. “Can’t you be my baby brother a bit longer? It feels like you’re running further and further away.”

Tooru was torn between repulsion and affection. “Who are you and what have you done to my monster onee-san?”

That earned him a smack.

“Just tell me you’re going to miss me,” Tooru said, rubbing the spot that his onee-san hit.

“Tch.” Toura rolled her eyes and diverted her gaze toward the makeshift court the two of them had built back when they were younger. How time flew. Now, he was off to play in bigger courts.

“So…” Toura started.

“So?” Tooru asked.

“I’m guessing, you’re still friends?”

“Hmm?”

“With the girl you walked home earlier, your best friend, the love of your life.” Toura raised her hands in exaggeration.

Tooru had a solemn look on his face. “I’m eighteen, onee-san. I don’t even know what love is.”

Right then and there, she caught a glimpse of the nine year-old fear that had been plaguing his heart. Toura always thought that people can only inherit things from their parents. Apparently, they can inherit things from their siblings too. Just like hand-me-down clothes worn out through time, Tooru had witnessed his elder sister’s experiences and acquired her pain.

Because of this, she knew he was mistaken. He knew too much about love. That love wasn’t just stolen kisses, first dates, holding hands, and smiles. It was pain too. It was the fear of not being enough, of being left behind.

It was true that love was anguish. But after nine years, Toura was able open her eyes to different aspects of love. She found it in her son’s laughter greeting her after a tiresome day. In her father’s jokes during tense moments. In her mother’s complaints about anything and everything. In her brother’s steadfastness especially when she needed it.

She saw it in the way Tooru looked at you.

“I doubt that,” Toura said.

“I doubt a lot of things,” Tooru replied.

“But never anything with her,” his elder sister said softly, looking at him in her periphery.

Tooru shook his head.

“You love her,” she said.

Tooru whispered, defeated. “I do.”

The next day brought a sense of déjà vu to Toura. She felt like she’s lived the scene before. A boy was leaving, off to chase his dreams. A girl was being left behind, to make do of what she had.

She had to remind herself that this was different. It was her brother, always keeping true to his name. He would go through everything life had to offer and he would commit to the things that he loved until the end. He was kind in his core, loyal to the ones he loved. He was not the scumbag who couldn’t make up his mind nine years ago.

It was you, the wisest and most understanding person Toura has ever met. You thought of everything carefully and thought of everyone deeply. You were not the naïve girl who acted impulsively and just hoped for the best.

“Just try and forget me, smart girl. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Toura heard her brother say.

Toura always felt the need to guard her brother from the world, especially after all the brutality that she has experienced. No matter how hard she tried, this was something she could never accomplish.

When it was time for Tooru to enter his gate, Tooru looked back, just once, just at you. You returned his gaze and offered an exaggerated smile. Tooru laughed.

This was the last image of himself that he left in the minds of those he loved before he left. You made that happen. Toura wished that you were there to make him laugh all the time, even when it was difficult for him.

So before the world shifted again, while you were still within Toura’s reach, she made a silent plea, an older sister’s prayer for her little brother—

“Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. But he had given you his heart. Please, keep it safe.”

—this is somehow related to my other oikawa fic HERE

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3 LINK

#haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x fem!reader #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru fic #oikawa fic #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa #aoba jousai

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