Oikawa Toru’s University Problems

¡¡ Cannibalism Ahead !!

In the hallowed halls of a university, one whose name matters little, Oikawa stood as a diligent student. His dedication to his studies was evident, and though his reliance on a best friend reached a level that surpassed all normalcy, many turned a blind eye to their unusual bond. 

Till now, with the passage of time only making the absence of Oikawa's dear friend conspicuous. Whispers echoed through the corridors, anxiety gripping the hearts of his peers. Oikawa, too, was plagued by a gnawing concern, his appearances in class dwindling to a mere specter as every public outing was marked by an unsettling restlessness. His foot tapped incessantly, rhythm like the staccato of a broken man, while his his lips bore the scars of anxious bites, and his sleeves were tugged and twisted, all but a desperate attempt to anchor himself in his unraveling world.

Then, a proclamation of true loss resounded through the somber halls—a missing persons report. Speculation swirled, casting its shadow of judgement over Oikawa's frame. Whispers permeated the air, hinting that he, in his despair, had filed the report. Though unconfirmed, the profound bond they shared made it all too plausible to believe that Oikawa had indeed set the wheels in motion.

Yet, like a wraith, Oikawa vanished from the realm of the outside. 

In the confines of his desolate abode, where shadows crept like sinister specters, Oikawa lay ensnared in a web of anguish. His visage, marred by a haunting pallor, bore witness to a sorrow deeper than the world could fathom. It was not the conventional grief that consumed him, though many onlookers assumed it to be so. No, his pain took a darker form, drenched in scarlet streams that cascaded from trembling lips.

In the dimly lit chamber, a symphony of torment unfolded. Oikawa's voice, wrought with tremors of despair, quivered as he whispered the name that held profound meaning. "Iwa-chan," he exhaled, the word a ghostly plea that resonated in the heavy silence.

The room seemed to shudder under the weight of Oikawa's anguish as a cry tore from the depths of his soul. "Iwa-chan, I didn't want to," he choked out, his voice trembling in tandem with his shattered spirit. Tears mingled with the macabre stains upon his fingertips as he raked blood-marked digits through disheveled strands of hair. 

Yet Iwaizumi remained silent, his ability to respond stolen away, flesh torn from his lip. Despite the agony etched upon his face, he released a feeble, fractured laugh, a sound that echoed with a blend of despair and twisted satisfaction.

Oikawa harbored a ravenous hunger deep within his being, a voracity that none could control. And when Oikawa had succumbed to the primal urge to sink his teeth into his own skin, Iwaizumi had not hesitated, baring his own vulnerable skin as a sustenance. 

Regret, an emotion that may be fitting as his friend sobbed before his eyes, held no dominion over Iwaizumi's heart. He could handle Oikawa's tears, cascading like a lamentation, for in this tapestry of their twisted bond, their souls irreparably linked together. 

So, as echoes of Oikawa's anguished weeping reverberated through the suffocating air, a mournful symphony that bore witness to their shared suffering, Iwaizumi could only smile. This was  but a manifestation of their fate, an eternal dance between hunger and sacrifice, love and pain.