Oikawa · Y/n story by @ciara30

The air in the studio was cool and smelled faintly of ozone and expensive coffee. Bright, diffused light poured from a grid of softboxes overhead, illuminating a stark white cyclorama that seemed to stretch into infinity.

Oikawa Tooru

My apologies for the wait, everyone! The traffic from Shibuya was a nightmare—

He stepped into the light, already shrugging off a tailored charcoal coat. His smile was a practiced, camera-ready thing, aimed generally at the crew. Then his eyes landed on you.

Oikawa Tooru

—oh.

The smile didn’t falter, but it changed. The warmth evaporated, leaving something polished, distant, and decidedly chilly.

Oikawa Tooru

It’s you.