apotelesma - o. tooru

quatre.

Another week has passed.

She hasn't spoken to Oikawa since that night.

In fact, she doesn't know what to say to him.

She's afraid she'll say the wrong thing and it'll blow up in his face.

So she keeps her distance, saying hi whenever she can and running off to the library to study and overthink. Mostly overthink.

After he had blurted that out, what resulted was profuse blushing from the both of them, awkward bits of dialogue, and nervous bursts of laughter. This continued until 11:30, when Oikawa excused himself for the night and went back home. She said her goodbyes, wished him well, and went to her own room to bundle up and overthink.

If there was a contest for excessive overthinking, she'd be reigning champion.

Mitsuha doesn't think she slept that night.

All throughout, he's been on her mind, and she's been extremely fidgety. Things like his smile and his scent. How he kind of sings some of his words and the way he hugs. The way his voice is soft yet ever-changing. Little things in Oikawa Tooru she never expected to matter so much to her.

She's sitting at the piano now, her fingers aimlessly trailing across the keyboard, as she waits for the rest of the band to finalize a couple of things. They're nearing the end of their scheduled practice of the day, and she's tired. She's been busy all day, finalizing preparations for the band's cultural festival stall, and attending all these practices and avoiding Oikawa as much as she can.

It didn't help that they're all in the same class: Makki, Mattsun, Hajime, Oikawa and her. She's kept to herself the entire time this past week, even though it'd been a great struggle to not do the usual things she did around Oikawa, like ruffle his hair or tease him.

But she has to hold herself back, because she doesn't want to hurt him.

She spoke about it to Hajime one night, because he caught her in the kitchen at one in the morning making rice paper rolls. She blurted everything out like a tide breaking across the shore; everything from her feelings and their conversations. He had simply sat there and listened, asking questions when he could.

That was the most of it. Other than that, she never connected emotionally with herself. She resorted to overthinking, sitting down in the library and trying her best to engorge herself in a random book (she kind of got the hang of the basics of engineering, but after a while the physics made her brain hurt).

"Mitsuha-san, are you looking forward to White Day?" one of the violinist girls asks, her sweet voice cutting through her thoughts. Mitsuha's fingers accidentally slump against the keys hard and she jerks back, completely surprised. The girl looks at her, in shock.

"W..white Day?" Mitsuha stutters, as she straightens herself and smoothens out her skirt, fidgeting with the edges. "Not really, no. What about you, Nika?"

The violinist, Nika, bursts into a smile. "Yep! I think my crush is gonna confess to me~" Her eyes are dreamy and full of hope.

Mitsuha musters up the courage to smile in response, despite the sudden emptiness that's taken residence in her stomach, and fights back the urge to let tears roll down her cheeks.

*

White Day has arrived.

Aoba Johsai's third year corridors are decorated with white flower garlands and little stars the decoration team put up during the weekend. Banners of sports and arts clubs are hung around like flags at a consulate, with various members plastered on them, and a few words of thanks written in teal. It's their last White Day all together, so it's understandable why they're going all out.