Thu, 21 Sep 2023 13:49:32 GMT

tones of blue | oikawa | 1.5k | sfw | a little angst with a happy ending about how oikawa handles moving to argentina

When Tooru chose to move halfway across the world he knew he would face a mountain of challenges but he was confident that he would be able to handle them all by himself. He had to. It wasn’t like he had any other choice. He wouldn’t be able to rely on Hajime anymore.

Adjusting to life in Argentina seemed to be going smoothly at first. And sure, if he was being honest, sometimes the western bed felt too cold and too foreign compared to his futon back home. And, maybe, it was keeping him up more nights than not these days.

But he would adapt soon enough, he was certain. The exhaustion from long days training with his new team meant that he would eventually get sleep. Right?

And at least his teammates were nice. They were a group of friendly faces who were excited to have a foreign player among them.

They constantly dragged him out to new restaurants and bars after practice in order for him to try the local specialties and get to know one another better.

The food was delicious, but it was different. With each day that passed, he craved his mother’s home cooking more and more. He tried his best to make the recipes she had sent him, but none of them ever tasted quite right.

But so long as he stuck to his nutritionist's recommendations, he would be fine. Right?

Plus, his new team was easy to play with despite the initial language barrier. The motions of volleyball were universal, after all, and he quickly picked up on their slang. And so, he had been thoroughly convinced that learning a third language wouldn’t be so bad.

On those long nights when he couldn’t sleep, he often ended up studying, desperately playing catch up to the adults around him in a language that despite its beauty, would never quite feel natural on his tongue.

Spanish was interesting after all, with how romantic and lyrical it was, which usually made studying fun despite the difficulty.

It certainly helped that the name of his favorite food in Japanese was already a borrowed word from Spanish. It was part of what had sparked his interest in the language in the first place.

But as he got further and further into his textbooks, the struggles were really beginning to pile up. Verb conjugations, which had seemed so simple at first, were suddenly puzzling him as he learned more and more vocabulary.

So despite having recently completed another level in his studies, he only felt more lost than ever before. But as long as he kept at it, eventually, it would click. Right?

Oh, how wrong he had been he realized as he stood in the aisle of the local beauty supply shop. He was completely lost. None of the products were familiar and he wasn’t even quite sure how to ask for what he was looking for.

His conversational Spanish was only able to take him so far, and the longer he stared at the foreign names of each product, the more he felt as if he would no longer even be able to hold a conversation.

Maybe he could ask for help in English? All he needed was one thing.

He had been toning his hair since middle school. Its natural bronze tone never seemed to suit his skin tone and one comment from Hajime about how good he looked in blue had solidified his love of cool tones long ago.

It was his third month here in Argentina, and a couple of weeks ago he had used the last of the toning shampoo that he had brought with him from home. The natural warm tones in his hair were coming back in full force, especially at his roots, and he hated it.

He felt ugly, even though he knew he wasn’t. He just didn’t feel like himself looking like this. Was he even himself anymore?

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept peacefully, and the exhaustion was finally beginning to settle as a soreness that felt bone deep.

He couldn’t remember the taste of his mothers cooking, and all he knew was that no matter how hard he tried, his attempts would always be wrong.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had a conversation in his native language because every time he called Iwaizumi lately they spoke in English to practice for his best friend’s upcoming move to America for college.

Now, all these things, which had so clearly made up the parts of who he was in Japan, were gone. The only thing he had left was volleyball.

Maybe everyone back home was right and that chasing so desperately after such a grand dream was foolish. He had been a nobody in Japan. He had failed to make it to nationals even a single time. Who even was he? What was he even doing here?

He was so frustrated with himself. He exhaled harshly as he continued to try to find what he was looking for.

“¿Necesita ayuda?”

Oops. Tooru had not meant to sigh so loudly. This was not exactly the time he wanted to have to deal with attention. Well, it was late now.

Instinctively, he quickly put on his signature fake smile, the very one he had practiced often enough that sometimes he could even fool himself with it, as he turned towards the owner who had called out to him.

In its own weird way, putting on this persona calmed him down a bit, breaking him from his spiraling thoughts.

“Si, señorita,” he replied, “pero…”

Fuck. Nevermind he was still lost. His mind had gone completely blank.

“¿Habla inglés?” She asked and he must have visibly relaxed at her response as she gave him a sincere chuckle. Maybe the gods were still looking out for him after all. “What can I do for you today, young man?”

“I am looking for a toner for my hair. I ran out of the shampoo I normally use, and ordering it all the way from home seemed silly, but I don’t recognize any of the brands here y mi español es muy malo,” he admitted.

“Azul?”

His smile softened genuinely upon hearing the familiar word. His favorite color. And the simplicity of their conversation reminded him that maybe everything is not quite as bad as he thought.

“Si.”

“It suits you.” The compliment caused him to flush slightly.

She made her way down the aisle past him, stopping to retrieve a light blue bottle from one of the bottom shelves that he had definitely overlooked due to his height, before handing it to him. With the bottle in his possession, he immediately began to feel relieved.

“Where is home?”

The question made him pause. It should have been a simple question to answer: Japan, the land that had raised him and where his family and friends still lived.

But was it? Had he chosen to stay, he never would have had a chance. No division one team would have ever considered giving a tryout to a player who had never made it to nationals.

At least not right out of high school, and he didn’t have the time to waste in the second division if he was going to make it onto an Olympic team one day.

Argentina, on the other hand, had welcomed him with open arms, offering him every opportunity he could ever dream of.

He had been wholeheartedly accepted into one of the top teams in the entire country despite his nobody status in Japan simply because he had proven to them that he had the skills to compete, the drive to improve, and an absolutely insane level of love for the game.

Not once since arriving here had he ever been made to feel less than. Not when he got words mixed up. His teammates would give him a friendly smile as they helped him figure out what he meant to say.

Not when he missed a set. No one could ever land everything perfectly, especially not with a brand new team. At the end of the day, he was still learning, and that's all that matters.

“Here, now,” Tooru said. “I was born in Japan, but San Juan is my home now. I play volleyball for Club Athletico.”

“I should get your autograph then. You must be very good to make that team,” she complimented as they walked to the register together.

“I am. I plan to play in the Olympics someday,” he replied as he handed her the money for the shampoo. He made sure that she kept the change as a gift for her kindness in helping him.

“I will be sure to watch the Japan team during the next games for you then.”

“No. I will be playing for Argentina,” he declared, once again feeling confident in his choice. “You said so yourself, blue suits me.”

“¡Buena suerte! That’s quite the dream. You will do great and make us proud. ”

And Tooru knew that was true. He suddenly felt as if everything was going to be alright. He would make it and every single struggle he had faced along the way would be worth it when he got to put on that light blue jersey for the first time.

It was just a matter of time now. Right.

Also available on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50232637

Thu, 21 Sep 2023 13:13:48 GMT

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