A/N:

Inspired by
The Ruler of Everything by Tally Hall and how nearly every Oikawa fic has him being an abuser. I thought it was time to show him a little love. The next 8 chaps are already written, I just want to see if there is interest in this story before I continue.

ALSO, although I am super smitten with Iwaoi, I would much rather have them be friends. I think the fetishizing of homosexuality is a big issue in anime, especially recently and especially with sports anime. Men should be encouraged to have close friendships with each other without being gay. Same for women. So, no matter how amazing the Iwaoi fics/art/headcannons are, I love the idea of their friendship more.

DISCLAIMER: This story will contain mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide. It will also contain mental health issues involving anxiety, depression, PTSD and other mood disorders. This fic is largely based off of my life experiences and I hope to do justice to what I and so many other people have gone through.

Chapter 1

The Ruler of Everything (PLEASE read the disclaimer before reading)

The gym was silent for a beat after the small kid from Karasuno slammed the ball right passed Oikawa before the opposing team erupted into cheers. I could see the surprise on the captains face; it had been too fast to react to. My hand flew up to cover my smirk and I turned away to hide my obvious satisfaction. To think two first years could bring him down a notch. I bit my lip and continued pushing the soft, wide dust mop across the edge of the gym floor, sure to gather the dust that accumulated. It was a pretty menial task but it was one I still took pride in.

Despite being decently athletic I'd never really tried my hardest during team sports. If I had passively been doing better than average I made sure to hinder my abilities to prevent undue attention from the coaches. It'd happened during every physical education class. Being slightly shorter than average made me perfect point during basketball and my ability to dribble with little effort always gave me advantage. I quickly noticed the interest of the teacher and began to let the ball fall out of my grasp during key moments. It upset my team and the teachers mouth pressed into a thin line but I wasn't pushed to perform any better. I think she knew what I was doing but my actions told her I likely would never join any sports club.

It was like that for everything but volleyball was the worst. My older brothers had both played volleyball aggressively at Aobajosai and I, as the littlest sibling and only sister, had been eager to play with them. I had never liked the sport itself, at least not in the way they did, but I had played my best in order to keep them playing with me. They had both had a natural knack for the sport, something I did not inherit from our father, but the constant practice had given me time to reach a level I never would have on my own. I excelled in strategy and reading opponents which tended to make up for my lack of talent. When they left for University I had little use for my skills and, despite encouragement from my family, never pursued volleyball as a club activity.

But, somehow, I couldn't stay out of the gym. It was possible that learning everything I could about the sport had marked me permanently because the gym sounded like a place I belonged. Squeaking of rubber-bottomed shoes over the sleek, shiny wooden floor, calls between teammates as they worked in real-time to strategize and beat their opponents, the soft pat of a set, loud smack of a serve or spike, thump of a receive. It felt so good, being there, and it made my brothers seem closer to me in spirit.

I still had no desire to play myself so I asked to be one of the caretakers of the gym. Our school was large and the space accommodated the many members of our acclaimed volleyball team. In order to keep the athletes focused on their practice Coach Irihata had long ago requested the gym be kept clean and cared for to reduce the requirements by his players.

Cut to my current position as broom-pusher and floor polisher, giddy like an idiot because the only person that could possibly ruin volleyball for me had just been beaten. Our players looked at each other with obstinate glares and I felt for all except one. The ball had slowed to a stop serendipitously at my feet and I lifted it with one, small hand and smiled. I hated to admit that it felt good every time I held one and cursed my brothers for brainwashing me.

"Hey." A voice called to me and my nostalgia was cut short. I felt the smile slowly turn down and turned left toward the court to see Oikawa Tooru sauntering toward me. His usual smugness had once again fallen over his face after recovering from his initial shock. So predictable, I thought, his only emotions seem to be arrogance and confidence - a dangerous cocktail of self absorption. He stopped just a few feet away and I felt the difference in our hight viscerally; the feeling of being cast in the shadow of a monument. My stomach flipped but my will was immovable. I would not be intimidated.

"Your fans are thrilled at your return." I spoke softly with no inflection, practiced n keeping emotion out of my voice. To any regular observer my comment might have seemed like a simple statement but to someone like Oikawa my taunt would have been evident. I held back a smile as his eyes narrowed in challenge. The smile he gave was wide and charming and completely fake.

"Oh dear, that almost sounds like you aren't one." He clutched at his chest and spoke in earnest and injured tone. More acting, more fake.

I leaned the handle of the dust mop onto the wall and grasped the volleyball with both hands. "On the contrary," I stepped toward him and pushed the ball into his chest where he grabbed it reflexively, but I didn't let go, "I'm your BIGGEST fan." The exaggeration and sarcasm could be no clearer and I had the satisfaction of seeing some confusion in his eyes before turning away and continuing the task of swallowing up dust mites with my fluffy broom. I tried to hide just how much my hands were shaking.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. I felt a scowl on my face and tried to reposition my expression into an emotionless mask once again. Why would I say something like that? The interaction could be so benign. He probably wasn't going to say anything to me, he was just waiting for the ball but I just HAD to open my mouth. What happened to staying under the radar? That's where you live, idiot. UNDER the radar where no one bothers you and your life is free of complications. I was furious as I began gathering stray volleyballs into the large cart. The other caretakers and players were taking down the net on the opposite side, leaving me alone to mentally abuse myself.

I picked up the last ball and squeezed it hard between my hands. I had knowingly taunted the most popular athlete in school. The most prideful, vain, self obsessed athlete at that. There was no hope for me now. If at any point he decided to treat me poorly for what I'd said it would quickly trickle down to all of his fans and the juniors who worshipped him. If he took any action after my blatant mocking, and I was sure he would, my carefully secluded life would certainly shatter around me.

With no other thought in my head I ran forward and threw the ball into the air before jumping and striking it with all my might over the net that had been left on this side of the gym. I felt the grim satisfaction of using my whole force for one small moment and suddenly realized I had not been alone. I looked toward my audience in terror. The three boys who made up the rest of the gym cleaning crew looked at me in awe including Yamada Reo, the student in charge, who had been welcoming to the only girl on the crew. He had been sure that I was only there to see Oikawa, as many other girls had before me, but after speaking with me he found me to be level headed and honest about wanting to do simple cleaning work. How must I look to him now?

"Forgive me Captain. Forgive me Yamada-san!" It killed me to have to apologize to Oikawa for the disturbance and I could not bring myself to look at him after I stood from my bow. I quickly pushed the ball cart into the hallway and hurried toward the equipment room, thankful to be out of sight. Standing in the darkness I deflated and leaned against the door frame for support. I would have to go back in there and I would have to return the next day, and continue returning until graduation. The commitment I made had been so easy; spending time quietly tidying up after the volleyball team had been the simplest commitment to make and I had made it through more than two years without incident.

"Idiot." I said to myself in the darkness of the room.

"Nakahara?" Yamada's voice startled me and I stepped out into the bright light of the hallway. He was holding the ball I had served and smiling reassuringly. "Wow! You shouldn't be sweeping, you should be playing!" His praise made me blush and I looked away, glancing to my right nervously. He followed my gaze down the hall toward the gym doors.

The ball sailed over my head as Yamada threw it in with the rest and I returned my gaze to him. My mouth opened, an apology on my lips, but he beat me to it, "No need to say it again. Tell me though, is everything alright?"

I paused, of course Yamada would ask that. I had never done anything like that since we had begun caring for the gym together our first year. It was out of character and Yamada, possibly the schoolmate closest to me after Aoi-chan, was bound to come around with questions. "Ah, I just learned that Haru will not be coming home for Golden week." The lie was easy, I had indeed been disappointed when he told me he had to stay in Tokyo.

"I see, it's been a while since he's been home, correct?" I nodded in affirmation. "Well then why don't you head out now? We're almost done anyway. Go call Haru and give him a piece of your mind!"

I smiled, unable to prevent myself from letting gout a small giggle at the thought of how flustered Haru would be if I yelled at him. "Thank you, I promise tomorrow I will not be so embarrassing." I fought the urge to look away in shame once again and turned to leave.

"Oh, Nakahara?" I turned back halfway to see a small blush cover his cheeks, "No need to be so formal, you know? We've known each other for years!"

I beamed at him, "Okay! See you in homeroom, Yamada-kun!" His ears lit up bright red. It was not light me to be so familiar but my mood had been lifted and it felt natural as I'd said it. We really had known each other for a long time.

I turned and walked the last few steps to the gym quickly and rounded the corner without looking to find myself bumping into the chest of Oikawa Tooru. He was solid and hard and my small frame bounced harshly off of him and I stumbled back, just barely keeping my balance. I've done something to anger the universe. I've done something horrible and awful because there can't be another explanation for this. It seemed forces were working against me, pushing me into embarrassing interactions with the unofficial ruler of our high school.

My deprecating thoughts were abruptly ended when he turned to the side to give me room to pass through the doorway. The heat of a blush lit my face and I looked up at him, appalled to be in his presence again in such a short period of time in such similar circumstances. The surprise at my sudden entrance was still on his face, soon replaced by…what? I felt my eyes widen as I tried to make sense of the obviously apologetic expression. Had he ever looked this way before? His body was still turned to the side and he gestured for me to pass. My face burned with redness I couldn't control and I ducked my head quickly, I'd been staring for far too long, and muttered a 'thank you' as I passed.

My fingers hurriedly loosened my long braid and worked through my hair nervously as I headed toward my bag. What was that look? It had felt genuine which was undeniably the reason I was so unsettled. My head turned back to the door as I reached down to grab my things just in time to see those brown eyes still on me before he and Iwaizumi Hajime exited the gym. I wanted to sink down to the floor right then and wallow in my feelings of dread but there were still too many players and custodians cleaning that I was forced to exit the second gym entrance, thankfully, opposite to where Oikawa had been.

The courtyard was clear of students and I ran to my bike before that could change. I prepared to swing my leg over to ride when I remember what Yamada-kun had recommended I do. Yes, If I call Haru I can calm myself down. Walking with my bike at my side I pulled out my phone and punched in the numbers from memory. He picked up on the second ring.

"Yamada." oikawa called out to the boy as he locked up the equipment room. He ran a hand over his sandy blonde hair as he turned toward the captain.

"Oikawa, was there something left undone?" He questioned.

"No, you all did a perfect job," his usual, easy grin quickly made Yamada feel comfortable, as it did most. "I wanted to know the name of the girl who left early." He noted the defensive posture the other student took as soon as she was mentioned. Playing on the emotion he leaned back in a non-threatening stance to put Yamada at ease.

Yamada took a moment before he laughed at himself for his sudden suspicion. "I thought you'd know, she's been here since first year." He joked at the athlete in front of him, not knowing how easily he had been manipulated.

The irritation he felt did not reach the surface. Instead, Oikawa held his arms out wide and pasted a contrite look on his face, "It seems I'm not without my faults after all. Learning her name would be the first step in atoning for my shortcoming." Repeating himself was a bother. He nearly sighed but was distracted by the harrumph from behind him and turned to scowl at Iwaizumi.

"Her name is Nakahara Himari," Yamada began with a presumptive tone, "but if you're thinking of trying to 'woo' her you're out of luck. She made it clear that she wants nothing to do with you."

At that Oikawa could not contain his interest, "I wonder why you sound so sure of that?" His question was honest, without hostility, as the information replayed in his mind.

"Well, we always ask prospective members, especially females, if they're just doing this to get close to the players. Your name in particular," Yamada pointed at Oikawa, "is used when interviewing due to the high number of fans you have." Oikawa had the decency to look abashed, "It's easy to tell by their face once they hear 'Oikawa Tooru' if they're just looking to try to be near you."

The explanation was uttered in a casual tone but it was easy to tell that he was particularly proud of the vetting process. There was silence in response and he continued, "Nakahara-chan didn't so much as blink and then she said, 'I can assure you, I want nothing to do with him'" he mimicked a female voice and cracked up laughing.

Oikawa's mouth pressed in a thin line and he himself mirrored Yamada, laughing as well, "I've never been more humbled!" He declared, this time ignoring the grunt from Iwaizumi, "My thanks, Yamada. See you tomorrow."

Iwaizumi spoke first as they exited the building, "Nakahara. Isn't that the name of some of Aobajosai's best players?"

"Nakahara Haru led the team to nationals the year we joined. The oldest brother, Hinata, did the same for his team three years prior. There were two years that overlapped when both brothers were here. Those two years we beat Shiratorizawa in every match." The information bubbled past his lips without much thought. He had been surprised to learn that the girl cleaning the floor of dirt and grime was related to two school legends. The unpracticed but skillful jump serve from this afternoon flashed in his mind again and he decided he was no longer surprised. She had obviously learned that from someone.

"So, she's basically a legacy. How embarrassing that she said openly how she despises you." Iwaizumi said with a face of stony impassivity.

Oikawa jumped away from him, "Iwai-chan," he whined, "how can you be so cruel! She never said 'despise'!" His whines followed his friend until they split ways toward their respective homes.

Looking for Betas for all three of my ongoing fics. I first need one because sometimes when I'm not excited about a certain chapter I need to have some guidance and/or additional ideas. Second, I need one to just keep me updating regularly. I'm a big procrastinator. So. :)