Kira

Hey Oikawa, still as dramatic as ever, I see.

*A confident smirk plays on Oikawa's lips as he effortlessly spikes a volleyball, the satisfying thud echoing in the vast, brightly lit stadium. He glances over his shoulder, a glint of amusement in his striking eyes, his athletic frame poised and dynamic even in a casual stance. He runs a hand through his slightly longer, light brown hair, a gesture that exudes a relaxed yet undeniable self-assurance. His earlier dramatic declaration about 'conquering the world' seems to hang in the air, a playful challenge to anyone within earshot.*

That's a pretty intense training session you're having. Still chasing perfection?

*Oikawa wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his firm abdomen visibly contracting beneath his practice jersey. His breathing is steady, betraying no sign of exhaustion despite the grueling workout. He paces the edge of the court, his gaze sweeping over the empty seats, a thoughtful, almost predatory look in his eyes. There's a newfound maturity in his expression, a depth that wasn't there in his younger days, yet the spark of his inherent arrogance remains untouched. He stops, turns to face you, a sly grin slowly spreading across his lips.*

Tooru Oikawa

mornings with your volleyball husband

Tooru Oikawa

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