The Greatest Thing We’ve Lost

by ServerX

Summary:

A journey through the years in which Iwaizumi watches Oikawa slowly drift away-and then, eventually, return to him.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

Genuinely so excited for this. It will be heartbreaking- but I guess in the end, it’s only life.

Like a school of fish, the people scatter before him, moving in a rush, each with their own destination. And like a predator, Iwaizumi forces the mass to split for him as he slowly makes his way through Tokyo Airport. His sharp eyes sweeping over the crown of people.

It takes him a moment to recognize him. A figure slips quietly through the frantic crowd, head lowered, hood pulled deep over his face. In both hands he carries two large suitcases, a phone wedged between his fingers and the handle. Clever he keeps moving, dodging past rowdy children and laughing families embracing each other. He looks just the same as the last time Iwaizumi saw him walk through this airport, all those years ago. Only the faint limp in his right leg and the darker taint on his hands and face, hints that things are not longer the same.

Finally, the man looks up, letting his gaze sweep over the crowd. He is slightly taller than average. His eyes are sunken, tired from the flight, and his lips look pale. Iwaizumi starts moving. Hands buried deep in his pockets, he makes his way through the crowd until he comes to a stop directly in front of him.

Surprise flashes across Oikawa’s face. “Hey,“ he says quiet.

„Hi,“ Iwaizumi replies.

Slowly Oikawa lets go of his right suitcase, as if unsure how to react. Naturally Iwiazumi steps forward to pull him into a firm hug. The headphones around Oikawa’s shoulder press awkwardly and uncomfortably against him and a new cologne clings to his pullover- a mix of lavender and bergamot. Iwiazumi doesn’t like it.

„I’m back, Hajime,“ Oikawa whispers against his shoulder.

„It‘s good to see you.“ Iwaizumi swallows to harden his voice again. Destined he pulls away. „Let‘s get you something to eat. Are you hungry?“

„A little,” Oikawa admits.

The walk to the car is silent. Iwaizumi grips the handle of the suitcase tightly. He thinks Oikawa might be eager to look around, but whenever he glances to the side, all Oikawa does is keep his head down and watch his path. No one pays him any attention and there is no one to greet him. He looks no different than any other guy returning from vacation. The same Japan has left him; the same Japan receives him- without tears and unrecognized. The country carries on, with or without Oikawa.

Once they are seated, Oikawa pulls off his hood and opens the windows, his hair damp from the flight. Iwiazumi’s hand taps a chill rhythm on the steering wheel along the radio. „How was your flight?“ he asks eventually. „Did you manage to sleep?“

“Not really,” he yawns long. „The old lady next to me kept bombarding me with questions.“

“About volleyball?”

Oikawa pauses. “No. About her grandchild’s birthday present.”

Purposefully Iwaizumi glances in the rearview mirror, blinks, and overtakes a green Jeep. The radio plays a cheesy Japanese opera his mum loved growing up. He can’t remember its name but he knows Oikawa definitely did- it’s the sort of thing he always had good memory for. But for some reason he doesn’t want to ask him about something so unimportant so he stays quiet. He pulls into the underground garage of his apartment, wondering when talking to Oikawa became so difficult.

„Missed Japan?“ Iwaizumi brings himself to ask once more.

Oikawa doesn’t turn his gaze from the window toward him when he answers. „Not at all.“

 

Notes:

Hello back or welcome!
If you’ve read my other work, you know I’m a sucker for angst and pain caused by that beautiful thing called “life”. Even more, I love writing about a deep bond between two people that can hold strong despite time, place or distance. Obviously love, but also more than that. Watch me try to turn my ideas into an actual story- let’s see if that works out. It’s supposed to be about 20.000 words and is still in progress. If you have anything to say good or bad, my comments are open.

Also for some annoying reason, my autocorrect really doesn’t get along with Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s names and keeps changing them. So please don’t be too harsh on me about a few mistakes :)
Thanks for reading and stay tuned.
-ServerX

Chapter 2: 2014

 

Only the bounce of the ball could be heard in the dead-silent gym. Time seemed to have stopped.

Almost comically slow, Iwaizumi turned his head until his gaze locked onto the volleyball behind him- on the floor. A few meters in front of it, Oikawa- frozen in the same position from which the ball had bounced off his hand. He didn’t meet Iwaizumi’s eyes, but it didn’t matter. He knew, even from the side, even from far. He knew just by that look on Oikawa‘s face that this would have consequences for the rest of time. It was one of those moments you never forgot.

Then, suddenly, the hall erupted in noise. Karasuno’s fans stood up and cheered with tears in their eyes. Karasuno moved, falling in each others arms, crying. Iwaizumi looked around his own team, still in shock, no one dared to move. It seemed as if they had not yet came to understand the gravity of their situation; Seijoh’s third years would never make it to Nationals. The high pitched screams roared in his ears and something dropped low inside of him.

A reminder that Iwaizumi could have prevented that.

 

„Okay. Where is he?“ Coach Irihata tapped restless with his foot on the ground as he looked down every aisle of Seijoh’s team bus. No one raised a voice, only red eyes stared back at him. Coach’s gaze stayed fixed on him. „Iwaizumi.”

Annoyed, he suppressed a groan at the silent command to search for his lost friend. Just as he rose, someone came rushing in. „Sorry,“ Oikawa mumbled, squeezing past the coach. Only then, probably in a moment of empathy, coach did not reply and gave the bus driver a tired signal to start the engine.

Quietly, Oikawa walked up to him. His gaze briefly fell on Kindaichi and with a long sigh, Kindaichi slowly slid away from his seat next to Iwaizumi and moved a few rows forward.

Iwiazumi ignored him as Oikawa fell on the seat with a flop. The streets of Tokyo vanished next to him. Who knew, under different circumstances he might have liked Tokyo.

„God!“

Iwaizumi closed his eyes. As much as he would like to, he could not give Oikawa the satisfaction of answering. What was there to say anyway? Nothing seemed appropriate in a situation like that. He had caused them to lose, it would only be fair for every single one of his teammates to hate him.

„This Ushiwaka be damned!“

That somehow gets his attention. „‚Ushiwaka?“ he asked quietly. He had expected Oikawa to hold a grudge against Iwaizumi, or Tobio, yes even Oikawa himself. Just not an opponent they hadn’t even got to play.

„He is awful,” Oikawa hissed, crossing his arms before his chest. “How can someone be so self-satisfied and dense at once?“

„What did-“

„This arrogance! And that monotone face. He told me I should have chosen Shiratorizawa instead of Seijoh. Can you believe that? The audacity!”

„He did what?“ Matsukawa asked his eyes big, leaning over his back seat.

Oiakwa‘s face turned into a grimace. „The audacity! He thinks I haven’t developed myself well enough at Aoba Jousai.”

„That‘s foul play,“ Iwaizumi commented grimly.

„What did you reply?“ Matsukawa asked, curious.

„Pah. As if!“ Oikawa snorted. „This nonsense-waka will see how Seijoh has perfected my potential. He‘ll see. I never want to see him or Tobio-chan ever again in my life! It’s a good thing we haven’t played him. He isn’t worth of my time anyway.”

Matsukawa frowned. „That could be a little difficult, if both of them climb the career ladder the same as you do. You‘ll meet yet least in Japan’s national team. Even on the same side.”

„I’d rather die than to be on the same team with either one of them!”

Iwaizumi didn’t hear the snap back because he only half-listened. Unmoved settled his gaze on the cars speeding past. It was calming, and for the first time he took a moment to process and breathe. This was truly the worst thing that could have happened to any of them. It didn’t took long until everyone had fallen asleep. He couldn’t, his mind kept circling around the last point.

The bus came to a stop and after a team meeting when they were finally free to go. It had gotten dark and their walk home dragged on longer than usual. Oikawa next to him had fallen silent a while ago. That was the thing with Oikawa. Objectively he was a pretty face with nice hair and a grin for everyone. Subjective, he was not only charismatic but manipulative and mean. Analytic and a hard working nature who was never satisfied. Whiney, funny and complacent but most of all superficial.

Yet, most people could see through later. They just assumed that there was also deeper side of him. Of course, they were right with that. But what these people tend to miss was that Oikawa denied Iwiazumi access to this side most of the time as well.

„We deserved nationals.“

Iwaizumi exhaled deeply. So he had been right. This was a black wound for Oikawa which would stay raw for a very long time. His chest clenched.

„Yeah,” he replied shortly. “We did.“

„I will never forgive him for this.” Oikawa’s tone was serious and when he spoke further. “I can‘t believe Tobio gets to have the only thing I ever wanted. Talent will always beat hard work,“ he said through clenched teeth. „I hate Japan.“

Iwaizumi blinked but he didn’t reply. An uncomfortable feeling turned up inside his stomach. Hate Japan. It must be the anger that spoke but still, even in anger, Iwaizumi didn’t think he could ever bring himself to think like that. This was their homeland after all. The land they had grown up in, with family and friends, where they went to school and had learned to love volleyball. Everything always happened in Japan. He stopped suddenly.

“I couldn’t be prouder to have you as a partner and you are the absolute best setter! Even if we end up on different teams, those facts will never change.” His paused and his face darkened. “But I’ll still give my all to defeat you.”

A flicker of surprise flashed across Oikawa’s face. Then something around his mouth twitched, and a small smile appeared-crooked, but visible.

 

 

°°°

 

 

The cold was oppressive. In one gulp, Iwaizumi emptied his tea from the thermos and set it beside him. The snow whipped against his face, and when it caught in his eyelashes, he had to blink. With every step, the snow on the courtyard was kicked up.

In front of him, Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat on a wall, tossing nuts at each other. The wind whistled in the background, and the last traces of sunlight from the day slowly disappeared behind a mountain. Everything was white and grey. No color seemed to be around and Iwaizumi grew more and more depressed.

Yearning, Iwaizumi glanced toward the gym, where muffled shouts and the the of volleyballs could be heard. Everything drew him there- to run, to move, to feel the ball in his hands again.

„What time is it?“

Hanamaki spat a nut into Matsukawa’s hair. „Five minutes later since you last asked,“ he announced cold.

Matsukawa groaned deeply, shaking his head. The nut fell onto the ground. „Please! Feels like ten hours.“

„It fucking does,“ Iwaizumi agreed, kicking the snow harder. “I can’t feel my hands anymore.”

The first and second year’s were training. Coach wanted to practice the lineup for next year and had given them the day off. Everyone knew what this meant. Seijoh slowly faded away from them. Not much longer and they graduated. It was quiet. Iwaizumi tilted his head back; the wind blew relentlessly against his face, and he sniffled. He would definitely get sick if they would continue to stare around like that for another hour.

„Oh no,“ Matsukawa exclaimed dryly. Forced, Iwaizumi followed his gaze. Oikawa came from the other side of the court, grinning and lightly bouncing on his feet. He seemed in such a good mood that Iwaizumi could punch him just because.

„Hi, guys,“ he called, with a charming grin into the round. He was sweating and he still wore his running shoes. „Your captain is back!“

“Shut up!“ Iwaizumi yelled back.

Oikawa made a displeased face. Lazily he crossed his arms. „Excuse you, Iwa-chan? In other teams it is quite usual for people to have some kind of respect for their captain. That says a lot about your personality I hope you are aware.“

„I will punch you if you-” After that, there is only a very long shh covering Iwaizumi’s waterfall of swears. Oikawa’s eyes lit up as he finished.

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “Speak.”

Putting on an innocent expression, Oikawa smiled. „What?“

„Dance over here and that stupid grin of yours? You have something to say.“

„Maybe. Ask me nicely.“

„No.“ Iwaizumi snapped. “Just say it.”

„Got me, Iwa-chan. You know me so well. I have brilliant news.”

Matsukawa groaned. „There we go.“

„Okay, I hope you are prepared. These are really fantastic news. Are you ready?“

Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the pitiful suspense. Hanamaki sighed long and Matsukawa looked like he had been forced to listen to a mosquito buzzing in his ear for hours.

Oikawa shot the round an offended glance. „I will never tell you anything again, if you continue like that. You‘re supposed to be excited to see me.“

„I‘d kiss Makki feet first-“

„Matsu!“

„Go on, then,“ Iwaizumi waved. Oikawa seemed genuinely pleased, maybe there was actually something important he had to say.

„Go on with what Iwa-chan?“ Oikawa smiled teasingly. Snow had formed a crown on his hair, hanging ridiculously damp in his face. The redness of his cheeks and forehead building a warm colour contrast in the coldness around.

„What are these brilliant news!“

„Oh, calm down, Matsu-chan. No need to get so excited. I will tell you, won’t I?“ he grinned complacent. „So, you know how I went to meet Kiomi for a run, right?“ He didn’t wait for them to agree before speaking further. „But on our way back she got thirsty, and I suggested to get something to drink. So we walked a little further to the little kiosk down the street. And when I walked in- you will never guess what I saw.”

„My grandma?“ Hanamaki guessed.

„The old man from the creepy house near the woods?”

„Roche Blancho?“ Iwaizumi threw in.

„Not who. What.“

„We have absolutely no idea. Please tell us, Oikawa,“ Hanamaki scarified.

Oikawa licked his lip. „I saw a huge cardboard announcing that milk bread is now on sale. Fifty percent off! Can you believe that?“

He looked around triumphantly, sipping hus milk when no one reacted. “Aren’t these brilliant news?“

Iwaizumi’s mouth fell open. „That are the news?“ Hanamaki asked, stunned.

„Dumbass!“ Iwaizumi exclaimed, punching his arm.

„Oww!“ Oikawa protested, feigning hurt.

„No,“ Matsukawa finally said, regaining his composure. „I-no. These are not! Tell me these are not the news you mistreated us for.“

„But they are, I promise!“

„I hate milk bread. And Iwa and Makki tolerate it at best. You are the only one benefitting from this. How are these good news? Why is this a group decision when you could have bought this yourself before?”

„Well, simple. I enjoy it and you enjoy me because I am your friend.” Oikawa sang. “So yes, in a way these are fantastic news for you. And also I did not have any money with me so you need to buy it for me. It’s not that big of a deal, Iwa-chan say something please.“

Iwaizumi wanted to punch his head against the nearest wall. „If I say something it would be to your misfortune. Trust me, it’s way better I stay silent,“ he groaned dangerously.

„Do you know that this sale is most likely because that the milk bread is soon to be expired and moldy?“

But even that didn’t seem to bother Oikawa. “Well, that doesn’t matter if it’s eaten today does it?”

Matsukawa opened his mouth again but Hanamaki interrupted him by standing up from the wall. „So what?“ he shrugged. „Are we getting this guy his milk bread or are we willing to hear his whining all day long?“ Matsukawa gave Iwaizumi a last sympathetic look and then also moved into action.

„No,” Iwaizumi said. „He’s an idiot. I‘m not getting him anything for the next decade.“

„Iwa-chaaaan,” Oikawa sang pleading.

„Oh no, you’re coming with us,” Hanamaki said from. „Or do you have something better to do?”

„Actually, hanging out with me is the best option all day everyday. You’re welcome.” Oikawa wrapped a brotherly arm around Iwaizumi and dragged him along. And because there was no will to live left in his body and maybe because of the unexpected warmth of another body close up, he didn’t protest and resisted the urge to kick Oikawa into the next universe.

Oikawa pulls him a little closer with a smirk as he whispered, „Knew this would cheer your ugly faces up.“ Then he let go and made his way down the street with the rest of the group following him.

Even though him, Hanamaki and Matsukawa often bickered about Oikawa or wondered how they could be friends with him in the first place. Iwaizumi would never forget that the only reason why he had both of his best friends was because of Oikawa.

He could well imagine Oikawa living his life without him. He would find friends anywhere. Despite being a natural leader it was easy for him to approach new people. It was Iwiazumi who would stay lonely and left out in groups. Unable to approach always looking grimmly. He didn’t wonder if he and Oiakwa would have become friends if they had met at later time in their lives, if they hadn’t been neighbors and if Oikawa hadn’t spoken to Iwaizumi first.

No, Iwaizumi didn’t wonder about any of that. He already knew the answer.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Iwaizumi awoke from the ringing of his phone. Slowly he half opened his eyes to blink at his bright display.

Shittykawa, it said. Under it an old picture of them arm in arm, somewhere in middle school. Oikawa with his typical sunshine smile and Iwaizumi next to him looking ready to punch someone.

With a deep groan he accepted the call. “What.”

The line crackled. „‘ello?“

„Hello,” Iwaizumi snapped.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice sounded hoarse, but not much.

“Mhm?” Iwaizumi muttered, eyes shut, though he couldn’t help but notice the noise in the background. A motor. Was Oiakwa driving somewhere? Static filled the line and Iwiazumi groaned again. This was getting beyond annoying. He wanted to go back to sleep as fast as he could. „I can‘t hear you!”

“‘ello? Iwa-‘an?“

„Yes! Hello! What is this. I can‘t hear you,“ Iwaizumi bluffed. „Where the hell are you? It‘s fucking loud.“

Something shifted, and then Oikawa‘s voice came through clearer „Sorry, we drove through a tunnel. Better?“

„Mhm,” he made his voice thick with sleep.

“Sorry for waking you up. Listen. I’m on my way to Argentina.“

“You what?” Iwiazumi barked, suddenly more awake. He blinked at his phone. 4 am. Was he still awake, or awake again? Either way, it was too early for shit like this. Maybe he was drunk.

“I’m on my way to Argentina,” Oikawa repeated patiently. 

Iwiazumi listened to the silence of the night for a few moments. Before he carefully coughed. “Oikawa,” he said slow as if talking to a madman. Maybe Oiakwa was, because what the fuck was happening. „Are you drunk? Come the fuck home. Where are you?”

“No, please. I’m in a taxi to the airport. It’s fine, everything is fine,” he said, almost pleading.

Iwaizumi yanked a pair of pats off the floor.

“I‘m picking you up. At the airport then.”

“No. Stop it,” Oikawa called destined. “You won‘t make it in time, I’m already running late.“ A long exhausted sigh sounded through the phone as if he’d let his bead fall against something. Then a quiet, „Please don’t come.“

And that stung. Powerless he let his pants drop again to the ground and himself back to a seating position. He waited for Oikawa to say something, but nothing came. “What the hell will you do in Argentinia?” He brought himself to ask, voice harsher than intended.

“Watching a game with Roche Blanco,” the answer came flatly, as if it were the most normal thing in teh world to travel over five thousand miles just to see a volleyball match.

“Excuse me? I fucking swear-“

“I’m not joking.” Oikawa cut him off, suddenly sounding very tired. “I’m not joking,” he repeated calmer. „Promise. I’ll explain everything when I come back. I just wanted to let you know.”

Iwaizumi bit his lip to not make a sarcastic comment. But teasing Oikawa right now would do no good. So he decided to play along.

“Okay,“ he said after a pause. „When are you coming back then.”

“Wednesday, I suppose. Maybe Thursday. I just called to let you know. And make up an excuse for Matsu’s birthday, yeah? I know it’s shit and all, but this is… well, important. Oh, and tell Makki I haven’t forgotten about his shirt. Would you do that for me Iwa-chan?”

There were very few things Iwaizumi would not do for Oikawa. And lying for him was not one of them. So he took a deep breath. “Sure.”

“Tell them I got sick or I’m still depressed about Nationals.“

„Which actually wouldn‘t be a lie.”

Oikawa only huffed in response then it was quiet again.

“Yes, alright. Wednesday or Thursday,” he recalled out loud. The sleepy haze that had surrounded him only minutes ago had completely faded away. “Alright. Text me when you land.”

“Thanks, I… yes here- Iwa-chan? No, need for the luggage- Iwa-chan?“ His voice broke through the line again. „I need to go now. We’re here.”

“Alright,” Iwaizumi said again, no words left in his mind. “Good flight, I guess.“

“Thanks. Bye.”

 

On Thursday, Oikawa came back. Despite his promise he never explained anything and Iwaizumi could never bring himself to ask. It was only the first time Oikawa left for Argentina but looking back, it was the most important. Because as much as Iwiazumi didn’t like to think about it, this, he thought, could have been prevented if only he had listened closely.

 

Chapter 3: 2015

 

And then just like that, graduation came. And snowy courtyards, the kiosk down the street and Seijoh‘s volleyball club was history.

The sun had fallen hours ago, and the alcohol fizzled pleasantly in Iwaizumi’s blood. He looked around the room. The graduation party was in full swing. Teachers had retreated a while ago. Old classmates were talking and dancing while the music blasted. Everyone seemed freer than they ever had before.

His gaze caught a group of of people, he blinked as the mix of alcohol and light blurred his vision but even without focus he knew who was held in their middle. It was no secret that this kind of environment wasn’t his preferred one. But what people tended to miss was that it wasn’t Oikawa’s either.

Said just scrapped the back of his head as he smiled friendly down at group of girls surrounding him. Just then, Oikawa’s head turned and Iwaizumi paused as their eyes met directly. Burning him with an expression with the clear request of get me out of here. A habit Iwaizumi had always annoyed and now in an affect of malice, chose to ignore.

Unmoved he turned away, drifting back toward to his friends, drinks in their hands and conversation easy.

„Plans for next years.“ Kindaichi announced suddenly into the group. No one knew why the first and second years had even showed up but all of them had carried a melancholy all evening. “What are you going to do now?“

„Tokyo, baby!“ Matsukawa yelled. „I‘m gonna be a city boy and will get somewhere into design.”

Hanamaki nodded. „I’m thinking about Tokyo too. But we‘ll see.“

„What about you, Iwaizumi?“

„A car,” Iwaizumi said spontaneously.

„Huh?“ Hanamaki made a grimace as he sipped his drink.

„I’m hearing that for the first time,” Matsukawa frowned.

“You never asked.”

„What do you want with a car in Tokyo? Wouldn’t be able to afford a parking place anyway.”

Now it was Iwaizumi who frowned. „Who said I‘m going to Tokyo?“

„But you said you‘d go!“ Matsukawa cried, leaning heavy against a chair. He’d had quite a lot to drink.

„I said I’d think about it. I‘m undecided. I just know that in some time I wanna be able to afford a car. A Mercedes Benz 230 in dark green to be exact. Year of construction 1984.”

Hanamaki grabbed Iwaizumi roughly in a headlock. „I love you, Iwa. You know that?“

„Fuck off!“ he shouted, freeing himself.

Then another arm slung casually over his shoulder. Oikawa’s grinning face appeared so close next to him that the warmth of his breath stroke his cheek. And for a faint second in which the alcohol took over, Iwaizumi fought with the urge to pull a little closer so he could also smell him. “I hope you know I’d never drive with you, yes? I want to live a little longer than eighteen.”

Iwaizumi groaned as a response and punched his friend in the side. Oikawa made a painful noise, clutching his stomach as he pulled back. “As if I‘d ever take you with me, Dumbkawa.“

„Why wouldn’t you? I make the best music and I’m so fun to be around. Don‘t lie about that Iwa-chan, you told me yourself.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t do all the insults on his lips justice because Matsukawa just knocked over a boule and because he was uncomfortable aware that Kyoutani had been watching him from the rhinestone corner of the hall for a while now. Quickly he went to the bathroom.

For the rest of the evening his friends seemed in an even better mood than before; Oikawa remained gone again. Iwaizumi let his gaze swift. From the group of girls, only one had remained, standing slightly apart. Oiakwa just bent down toward her, whispering intently. She laughed freely as Oikawa leaned over and kissed her. 

 

The grass beneath him felt a little wet but he didn’t care as he lay down. He was still wearing his suit, but it didn't matter if it got dirty. The evening had ended and Iwaizumi was drunk. Slowly, he let his head drop completely on the grass of his parents backyard.

Said just let himself fall next to him, with a loud groan that could also be the sound of an elephant.

“Psss,” Iwiazumi warned, his tongue knotting over the sound.

“Don’t hush me!” Oikawa babbled in a normal volume.

“Shut up, you’ll wake everyone!”

“No, you shut up!”

Iwaizumi took a deep breath to keep him from going crazy. He was drunk and yet Oikawa was still the biggest idiot he knew. A whiff of deodorant came over. Its scent had imprinted in his mind. Oiakwa had used it for as long as he could remember that he had come to associate it with him blind.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes as everything spun. The tall grass tickled his cheek while the darkness surrounded him. “It’s fucking freezing,” he muttered as a cold shiver ran down his spine. It was still only March, and they were wearing too little to survive a cold night like that.

Oikawa sighed contentedly, not listening to him at all. „That was a nice evening.”

A few flashes of the vending burned inside him mind. Surrounded by girls all night ending it with an hot make out session. Sure Oikawa had fun. Who wouldn’t? But no, it was not fair being jealous of your friend for getting along with girls. He could have pulled a move either if he hadn’t been so caught up talking with his friends. There had been girls watching him, he had noticed. Maybe not as many as had Oikawa, but still.

„I‘ll be damned if Matsu can even stand tomorrow,“ Iwaizumi chuckled instead.

“Have you seen Yahaba? God! What he tried with Nana was nearly stalking. Just longingly looking from afar, no word said. That’s not flirting.”

Iwaizumi yawned. “She seemed to like it, nevertheless. Saw them making out near the bathrooms.”

“Really?” Oikawa asked surprised. “Who would have guessed? Yaha-kun lands with the girls. Matsu owes Mad dog 1000 yen now.”

“I don’t think Kyoutani saw,” Iwiazumi considered. “Maybe, I have to tell him though.”

That made Oikawa laugh out loud and the brightness in his tone made Iwaizumi smile. That was nice. Just the two of them, after drinking with their friends, laying in the backyard on a too cold night. He was scarred what the future would bring and how they would all drift away from each other. How they would separate and get lost. But at least there would always be a history of volleyball to keep them connected.

He’d not noticed that it had grown silent between them until Oikawa quietly spoke. „I forgot.“

„What?“

„How much fun this is. We. Talking to people. Not having to prove something. All that.”

Iwaizumi resisted the urgency to roll his eyes. „It‘s just sports that make it seem like this. Having fun and no competition is normal. That’s what life is usually about.”

„Volleyball is my life,“ Oikawa countered sharply.

An owl hooted, and the sound of his stomach clang through the air. He should suggest going inside, his parents weren’t home and they could make some eggs.

„I had fun today,“ he said again. „What about you? Did you enjoy it”

„Yeah, me too.”

Groaning, he came up to a seating position. The ground was too cold to lie on- they should really go inside.

„Maybe I should stop playing volleyball. It was nice not thinking about it today.“

Even though it was just idle chatter, Iwaizumi suddenly startled. Oiakwa had closed his eyes and his face was relaxed. But the words had been spoken too honest , too firm. „Are you dumb? No you won‘t,“ he said harshly.

„What makes you say that? Maybe I will. People change.”

„You won‘t.“

„Why not?“ Oikawa asked something strange carried in his voice.

„It’s-“ Iwaizumi paused, searching for an explanation. But the only thing coming to his mind, he couldn’t say. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t let the only thing keeping them close together now drift apart. Not after everything that would change now. “It’s Volleyball. Dumbass,“ he landed on weak.

Oikawa opened his eyes to examine him. “Stop looking at me like that. No.” 

„No, what?“

„I know what you‘re thinking,“ Oikawa said cold. „No, to that. That will never happen we have many things keeping us close.“

„Oh, is that your future career path when not playing volleyball? Being a mind reader?” 

„I’d made millions if you’d be my only client. It’s not hard for me. I always know what you are thinking, Iwa-chan,” he said smugly, as always but something in his voice made Iwaizumi believe him. „I was only joking, I’d never stop. Going pro sounds quite appealing. Having everyone admire you. The girls cheering. It would be selfish to withhold my face from the world.”

The moment in which he could punch Oikawa had been passed and so he settled for the most disgusting grimace he could manage. He didn’t want anything to change at all.

“You should go pro too.”

”You know that’s not for me,” Iwaizumi repeated the usual topic.

Oikawa inhaled long. ”I know. It just would have been nice.”

Yes, it would be, Iwaizumi admitted silent. It would be easy and familiar. Nothing would have to change and he could continue to play. He loved volleyball more than anything. So why was there this annoying voice inside of him screaming at him, he’d regret it.

„Can I ask you-“ Iwaizumi began, but Oikawa cut him off.

„I’m going to Argentinia.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, the alcohol made him dizzy. How was this not a surprise. „Again?“

„Yes.“

But something strange about his tone, made him halter. „As in vacation, right?”

There was a little pause. „I mean… kind of, well- No. Not exactly,“ all the fun had vanished in Oikawa’s voice and suddenly he sounded very serious as he came up to a sitting position as well. „As in, for a while.“

As in for a while? What was that supposed to mean, that was-

Oh.

Oh.

Iwaizumi’s heart quickened; his palms began to sweat. The silence stretched. While Oikawa played with the grass instead of meeting his eyes.

„That’s the other side of the world!“ Iwaizumi finally called out, because maybe Oikawa might not have realised where Argentinian was.

But then he said, „it is.“

„Have you lost your mind? For how long and why?“

„I don‘t know. I really don‘t,” Oikawa said, shrugging his shoulders like a nervous chid. “I just need to get out. Out of Japan, see something new. Experience and connections. Before I go pro.“

„You didn’t tell me,” and his voice could not hide the feeling of betrayal.

„I am sorry!“ Oiakwa said defensively. „I meant to, but I didn’t want to think about i… and what it would mean if I- you know. And what you would think and all that-“

„What?“ Iwiazumi snapped. „What I would think when you moved to Argentinian? Thank god we’ll never know.“

Oikawa flinched visibly. „I am not emigrating. This isn‘t forever, just for a while.“

Iwaizumi huffed unable to find the right words. „When did you even decide?“ As he spoke the words he knew the answer. Because Oiakwa had always been a reflection of him in a way. And when Iwaizumi had taken the loss against Karasuno hard, it was Oikawa who had hit it harder.

Oikawa stared past him at a tree. „You knew I had plans to become pro.“ The monotone sound of Oikawa’s voice made it only worse. As if he did not care at all. „Yeah, I just… I- I thought that would include here.“ He felt ridiculous. There had been signs he had just not seen them.

Oikawa tilted his head a little to finally look at him. He had underestimated him. Always dismissed it as mere daydreams. Never would he have thought Oikawa would be brave enough to a casually do it.

“I’m really sorry for not telling you. I just had a lot going on in my head, and I couldn’t fit another opinion in it. I needed to decide myself.“

Iwaizumi felt the energy leaving his body. “You don’t think I would have encouraged you?”

“No. I mean yes. Of course you would, I- Urgh. I don’t know how to explain it. I know you would, and that might be the problem. I didn’t want you to push me.”

“Turns out you didn’t needed to.”

“Don’t be mad Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s gaze burning in his, hurt but firm. Regret showed on his face and Iwaizumi felt something heavy inside his chest.

“I’m not mad,” he snapped. And as he spoke he noticed that he actually wasn’t. Hurt yes but not mad. “I’m not mad,” he repeated softer.

Something in Oiakwa’s face changed as he shook his head violently. „Liar,” he yelled, face twisted in a pained grimace. “Then stop looking at me like that!”

Iwaizumi frowned. „Like what?“

„Like I made the wrong choice!”

„Well did you? How am I supposed to know?” He said defensively again. “This is a you problem.“

„I didn‘t!“ Oikawa called desperate out. “So stop looking at me like that!”

They would wake the whole neighborhood up if they continued like that but he coudln’t care less.

„See, there you have your answer. If you‘re sure, than it‘s fine- good even. I was just surprised. God! Don’t care for my fucking face, you know I’m always grimmly. I am telling you it’s fine, I got it in the wrong throat earlier. Why does it matter?”

„It matters because you think I made the wrong one!“

Maybe it was the aclohol, maybe the time but Iwaizumi didn’t understand anything. “Why does it suddenly matter what I think?”

“Believe it or not but I do care about your opinion,” Oikawa said snippy.

„That’s bullshit!“ Iwiazumi shut him down rudely, following him on his way inside. „It only means you can’t tell yourself wheater it‘s a good or bad one. No one can. Only time will tell but for now, you just made a choice.“ He hadn’t expected for Oikawa to make a scene like that. The emotional outburst over something silly like Iwiazumi’s opinion.

„Listen.“ Iwaizumi said conciliatory. „I told you we‘d be partners even in different teams didn’t I? I meant it, okay.“

„Are you mad?“ Oikawa asked again.

„For fucks sake, take this idiot away from me,” Iwaizumi muttered, finally standing up from the cold ground in an attempt to go inside.

“You’re so mean,” Oikawa whined but followed quickly. “No one reacts that way when they’re told their best friend will go away for a while.”

“Best friend? Are you a kindergartener?” Iwaizumi countered. Everything was the same as before again.

“How can you even say that, Iwa-chan? You know I‘m only staying for your sake. No one would want to spend his time with your grim face anyway. You’re a hopeless fool without me.” He sang to himself on their way inside.

Somewhere, through an open window, an old man in pajamas hushed them angrily.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Iwaizumi pushed his way through Tokyo airport. Crowded as usual. He hated it here. He heard his friends fighting before he even saw them. The three of them sat ant a small coffee table, absorbed in a lively conversation.

„I‘ll work on my Spanish and when I come back I won’t need to speak to any of you anymore.” Oikawa just announced.

„As if,“ Hanamaki rolled his eyes. „You are not be able to shut the fuck up if your life depended on it.”

“Lo siento, señor, no puedo entenderla. Por favor, hable español.”

„Oh god! Makki he told you he’d take your sister with him! I understood that. I wouldn’t let that slide.“

Hanamaki’s mouth fell open. “I swear to god, Oikawa. You little- Oh. Hi Iwa. How was your grandpa’s birthday?”

Iwaizumi dropped on the remaining free chair. “Good. Sorry for being late.”

Matsukawa pointed at his neighbor. “Oi Iwa. Right time. Hit Oikawa!“

Iwiazumi followed his finger and met Oiakwa’s gaze. Head tilted, hazel eyes flashed at him. He held himself tall and proud. Like nothing could harm him and he was invincible. He looked ready to conquer the world.

„I don’t do shit when you tell me to,“ Iwaizumi bluffed, and Matsukawa pulled a face.

Oikawa’s grin turned triumphantly. „Yeah, right Iwa-chan! Tell him off!“

„And I also don’t do shit when you tell me to.”

Hanamaki laughed and Oikawa clicked his tongue.

“This might be the greatest day of my life.” Matsukawa announced as he took a sip of his coffee. “You annoyed the shit out of me for the past ten years. Now I have finally peace.“

“What should Iwaizumi say? Sixteen years isn’t it?” Hanamaki raised a brow.

Iwaizumi didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The lump in his throat that had formed all day had finally clocked back his words.

Thankfully, Oikawa stepped in. “Yeah, yeah keep making fun of me. That way you’re making sure I’ll never ever return to Japan. I’ll settle down, have a wife and kids and start a new life without you guys- with people who actually know I’m a delight to be around.”

Matsukawa threw his head back, “Oh yeah, sure. A delight. Your poor wife. I hope the sun fries of your perfect skin.“

„That‘s so mean! I would never wish something like that to anyone. Sun danger is very bad.“

„You did. To Tobio once at Kitagawa Daiichi. And then again when you first played him in a training match. And then again on the way back from the last time.“

„Nonesense Makki-chan. Nonesense.“ Oiakwa waved him off. “You remembered incorrectly.”

„And what about Ushiwak-“

„Okay.” Oikawa clapped his hands together. “I really think I need to get to my gate now.“

He felt Oikawa’s eyes pining him down, but he avoided them. His steps felt twice as heavy, and by the time they came to a stop he felt like a ton was pressing down on him. Oikawa turned around, his face had lost a little of its carefreeness but a smile still lingered there.

“Come here, idiot.” And with that Hanamaki was pulled into a brotherly hug.

“Oi, fuck off.” The boy yelled, but hugged him back anyway. „The sun will make you return after a week, you‘ll see. Also, I heard Argentinia isn’t even that beautiful. A lot of crime and all that.”

“Yeah, I heard the same.” Oikawa laughed, flashing his pearly white teeth.

“Take care. And leave some girls for us when we come to visit,” Matsukawa warned as he hugged Oikawa tightly.

“As if you’d ever stood a chance against me.“ Then his gaze fell on Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Slowly, Iwaizumi stepped forward, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders. His partner for years. They would never stand on the same side of the court again. The next time, they would be opponents.

“Don’t make that face, Iwa-chan.“ Oikawa‘s breath was warm against his ear. He whispered so quietly no one could hear them over the loud airport announcements. „You’re making it really fucking hard for me.“

He wanted to say something along the lines of That’s just my face, dumbass, but he couldn’t‘t. Because suddenly an unbearable pain climbed up and the lump in his throat threatened to kill him. He had no idea how Oikawa managed it. “Fuck you, going to Argentinia. God!“ he whispered into his neck and pulled him closer in.

The smell of deodorant mixed with the long hair-care routine Oikawa hadn’t changed since he’d first seen it in a magazine at thirteen clung to him.

“I know,” The answer came quiet. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m coming back, promise.”

And then Oikawa let go. He stepped back a little, rearranging the straps of his backpack resting a last look on his friends.

Iwaizumi’s heart dropped suddenly. And it was so obvious that he thought everyone had to see it, Hera it, when it landed with a loud bong on the ground. laid there, see-through, raw and bloody for everyone to notice. Children would tug their mother’s around, point at him and whisper, “Look! That guy’s heart just fell to the ground.” And when Oikawa would walk through the gates and he would be sitting at his kitchen table eating ramen, it would still be lying there.

This was only Shittykawa, he reminded himself. Why was his body reacting like this? Rationally, he knew Oikawa wasn’t leaving forever. This was only temporary, just a goodbye for now. So why did it feel like Oikawa had pressed everything out of him in that hug, leaving behind only a crumbling, empty shell?

“I’ll miss you,” Oikawa said.

“Oh, fuck off.” Matsukawa rolled his eyes. „Go!“

“The plane won’t wait for Saint Oikawa Toru.” Hanamaki agreed, pushing him toward the gate.

Iwaizumi leaned his head a little back, with clenched jaw as he watched Oikawa go. He didn’t turn around once.

“Fuck me,“ Matsukawa groaned on their way out. „I’ll miss that idiot. A lot.“

The moment they walked outside felt like an eternity. Now, with every step, the distance between them grew wider. Without a word, Hanamaki hailed a taxi toward the train station and Iwiazumi slid on the backseat, gripping back of the front seat with both hands he leaned his head down. “Shit.”

It was strange in a way, how his body had known the weight even then.

 

 

°°°

 

 

The sound of his phone awoke Iwaizumi suddenly. Blind, he reached left and tapped around on his phone until the noise finally stopped. 6 am. He sighed, heavy, and let his head sink deeper into the pillow. For another moment he kept his eyes shut, allowing reality catch up with him slowly.

Mentally, he wrote a to-do list for the day. An eight hour shift the local factory, buy some groceries, then kid’s volleyball training, drive his father to the train station and help his mother in the garden.

A lot to do. So he got up. While brushing his teeth, he checked his texts. A few messages in the group chats, and one missed from Oikawa along with a message: „Sorry I know you’re asleep. Forgot.“

He quickly typed back, „Call you later?“

Another mental note: call Oikawa during his break.

Oikawa replied immediately, sending a cheering emoji. 6 p.m. in Argentinia.

After four hours, of work he finally sat down to eat. The work was hard and underpaid. His coworkers unfriendly. The customers idiot. Exhausted, he placed his phone next to him, put it on speaker, and called. No answer. Iwaizumi sighed and bit into his sandwich.

The day passed rather quickly after that. He was always on the run, barely finding a minute to eat as he went. When he looked on his phone again he had a text waiting on his phone. „Sorryy! I randomly fell asleep. Today drained me. I need to tell you about it. Call me later when you‘re free. Gonna go back to sleep it‘s two in the mornings here and I just drank the whole faucet dry.”

„Idiot,“ Iwaizumi replied at the supermarket, then „Sure.“

But later is difficult because when Oikawa let him know a bright, „Awake :)” he has to train the kids.

He entered the gym, greeted immediately by the familiar smell of floor wax and the echoing hall. And suddenly, all of Iwaizumi’s exhaustion and stress is gone. Volleyball, the only thing worth it. Around his mouth there is a faint twitch as he makes his way to the bench-not the locker rooms- he was the coach, after all.

„Hey don’t just talk to your teammates,” Iwaizumi said, standing in front of an. Frustrated middle schooler. “Asking for feedback is great, but won‘t take you far if that’s all you do. Some players don’t even know what ball they can hit the best and it’s your job to figure that out. Learn how to read the room, their minds, their body language.”

„That’s impossible,” the girl complained.

„It’s hard,” Iwiazumi admitted, “but you’ll get better with consistency and hard work. Remember -you’re not the only one on court. You have a great team around you.” he tossed her the ball. „Try again.“

She pouted. „But I don‘t know how.“

Iwaizumi paused. Teenagers were always moody and listless. „Set to me,“ he said and the girl’s eyes widened.

He jumped and spiked the ball down on the other side of the court. Wild applause from his students. The set was mediocre but decent enough. He gave her a high five. “See, how you adjusted the ball the second you saw how high I’d spring? Good job.”

Later, while packing up, Iwiazumi watched his hadn. It had been a while since he’d actually hit a ball in a while. It felt good-amazing even. Familiar. Everything familiar felt amazing. That was the deceiving law of nature. But as he listend closely he noticed that he hadn’t missed not being the one to hit the ball. There were things you could only see from outside the field. He was a supporter, a helper. Good with logic and efficient.

The parents came to talk to him often. He was appreciated for his directness and hard work. The bright smiles on the kids faces when they managed to hit or the eager loom of winning in their eyes. He knew that feeling all too well. It was a good job. And still, there was something missing.

He liked the kids. But he liked Volleyball more.

The day carried on without a room to breathe. By the time he was finally in bed it hit him: he still had a call to make. He glanced at the clock-almost midnight. Oikawa would be at training by now. Sill, he called-but of course, no answer. So he went to bed instead.

The alarm went off, and Iwaizumi tapped blindly on his phone. After another minute, he dragged himself up to brush his teeth. Every day the same. The thought of another eight hour shift made his stomach crumble. What was he supposed to do with his life?

He went to work, certain of only one thing: this he swore would never be it.

But then, at noon, when he stepped into the gym first tuning on the lights. He breathed in the familiar smell. How could he ever live a life that didn’t revolve around volleyball?

 

„Finally!“ Oikawa exclaimed, indignant.

Iwaizumi frowned. It was late in Japan, and after a long day he just wanted to go to bed.

“Are you done disappearing off the faces of the earth? It’s been more than a week now.” He breathed hard and the sound of people talking in the background shifted over to him. It seemed like Oikawa must have called during his break.

„You’re the one missing my calls every other day“ Iwaizumi reminded him dryly.

„Can‘t be. Whenever I call, you don’t answer!“

“Yeah, because I’m asleep, idiot.”

“You tend to sleep very early, then.”

„I‘m working, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi reminded him coldly. „Going on with my day.”

„I know.” Oikawa sighed softly. “And I‘m at training all day. So whose fault is it?“

Yeah. Whose fault was it.

„Well, at least it worked out now.” Iwaizumi tried for a conciliatory tone. “So, what is it? Tell me, I’m all ear about some nonesense of yours.”

„Huh?“ Oikawa said blankly.

“You wanted to tell me something the other day, remember? What drained you? The thing you wanted to call me about in the first place?”

„Oh, really? I… can‘t remember actually. That’s weird. I swear it must have been important.“

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw. „Alright.“

There was a long sigh when Iwaizumi said no more. “Sorry. My days are so full, no one is like the other. Training, of course, but also all the bureaucracy and so on. I can’t seem to catch a break. The team’s good but still, they’re only some hobby players. I don’t think this is it for me yet. Argentinia is different, it’s calmer in a way and the people are so open. They think I’m good,” he paused and Iwaizumi could hear the clear smile on his lips, “Everyone does.”

Iwaizumi had no doubt they did.

“What’s up with you?” Oikawa asked further. “Been talking about me a lot, that’s rude.”

“You know,” he said drawn out. What could he even say? “Matsu’s in Tokyo and Makki will follow in a week. In the morning I work then I head to the gym. In between I help mum and dad with stuff. Everyday’s the same.”

“Nothing’s wrong with same,” Oikawa said, but Iwaizumi knew that wasn’t true.

He always thought of Oikawa as a bright shining light. Every room he entered automatically lit up. Every mood shifted around him. Illuminating Iwaizumi’s path, walking ahead and grinning back at him, urging him to follow. And no matter how fast he ran Oiakwa would always slip through his finger, leaving him in the dark.

He lay awake a long time after that. His mind rattling with thoughts. How the fuck camel that he was so lost while everyone else seemed to have it all figured out.

 

It was almost a month later, on a bright September day, things started to make sense. He was ant a bar with Matsukawa and Hanamaki who had come to visit when they’d ran into Kyoutani, who was with an friend.

„My name’s Shiraba and I‘m studying sports science,” the guy said by way of greeting.

„Sports science?“ Iwiazumi echoed dumbly. He had some vague idea of what that was but not really.

„Yeah, in San Francisco. They’ve got an amazing program. A lot of schools in the US do, actually. It‘s fucking amazing.“

The night went on, and by the end of it Iwaizumi walked home slightly drunk but painfully clear-headed. The next day it was all he could think about. Between shifts he Googled, researched, read everything he could find. And by the end of the week, he sent out his applications.

Maybe that was how he could keep volleyball in his life without going pro.

Months later, the long wanted reply came, accepted. Irvine, California. It felt like a dream had slowly began to form and with it his future.

 

 

°°°

 

 

„Iwa-chan?” A tired voice sang over the phone. “Hi, god, hi.“

„Shittykawa. It’s been a while.“

He suppressed a yawn. „Yes, sorry about earlier, I was at training. I’ve got time now. What’s up?”

Iwaizumi didn’t bother to correct him that he had called yesterday and not today. „I have news,” he said, sitting down on a bench. His legs stretched, while he watched a few children play basketball in front of him. The sun warmed his arms, and he closed his eyes.

„Great! I have news too,“ Oikawa’s cheerful voice echoed from afar. „But you first.“

„I’m going to college in California.“

A long, hearty laugh sounded over the phone. The kind that made Iwaizumi’s insides squirm, and softened his expression. He had almost forgot that laugh. „Oh god, Iwa-chan. I- wow. That’s amazing.You‘re amazing.“

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Out of all the reactions he could have expected, Oikawa laughing so free was the easiest thing he could have done.

„Tell me,“ Oikawa pleaded, and Iwiazumi did. He told him about everything that ahd kept him up for weeks, what he had figured out he woudl do, and what he wouldn’t. He told Oikawa everything. And he listend without interrupting once.

When he finished, Oikawa exhaled in relief. „That‘s absolutely insane.”

The thing with calling people you already knew inside and out was that you could see them in your mind just from the way their voice sounded. Pointing, smiling, frowning-it didn’t matter. And right now, Iwaizumi could see a picture of Oikawa’s bright grinning face right in front of his closed eyes.

“I know.“

“I love that for you.“

„Thanks. It‘s been an up and down, but now I know what I want.“

„I wish I did too,” Oikawa said. „Still figuring that out.“

Iwaizumi frowned. „You have,“ he reminded him. But he became no response.

„Same time zone then, huh.”

“Same time zone,” he agreed. Then he remembered something. “Will you visit?”

„Is this a real question? Of course I will. I’ve never been to the US. What will they even do when I arrive? You should warn them about by beauty. Maybe I’ll start a mass panic and have girls faint.”

“Fuck off!” Iwiazumi groaned. He would have never admitted it but he was glad for this comment. A reminder that Oikawa was still the same arrogant brat he had known all his life as before.

Another chuckle was the response. “Will you too then? Visit me, I mean.”

„Obviously.“

„But prepare yourself. The sun is no joke, in America. It‘s always hot and dry- And Matsu-chan was right, it really does burn your skin. Always wear sunscreen, yes? And a hat for heat protection. God, I hate the sun, it’s awful, let me tell you. So sun protection all day, every day. Remember that.“

„Yes, mum.“

„Oh, fuck off,” he huffed.

A comfortable silence settled between then in which Oikawa seemed to fidget with a toy or something and Iwaizumi whacked the kids playing basketball. It was so easy talking to him, even after such a long silence. It wasn’t the same as seeing each other. but it was comfortable.

„Oh- almost forgot I wanted to tell you something too.“

„Yeah?“

„I‘ll get onto a better team. City league, San Juan! They want me for at least three years! It made me think, I‘ll also come back, when you’re finished with college.”

„Don‘t be stupid.“

„No, really. I will. It‘s quiet lonely without Iwa-chan here. And the sun is killing me you have no idea.“

 

Oikawa always said things like at the end of a call. But Iwaizumi never quite believed him. First because whenever he called Oikawa, he always seemed to be surrounded by people, never being truly alone. And second, because this was the longest conversation they had had in a very long time.

 

Chapter 4: 2016

 

The walk across campus toward the cafeteria was something Iwaizumi would probably never get used to.

The sky without any clouds, the palm trees, and all the greenery on every corner- it was something else. Even though the first week of lectures were already over and things were slowly settling down, it still excited him.

California was so different from the quiet, calm Miyagi. People here always seemed chaotic and in a rush. Loud and extroverted, they walked the streets like they owned them. For some, it might have been overwhelming, but Iwaizumi loved it. Only the heat was unbearable at times. He pulled his cap a little deeper over his face as he sat down at one of the many tables with his food. He had just taken the first bite when a ringtone pulled him out of his thoughts.

„Hi,” Iwaizumi mumbled with a full mouth. “What’s up?”

There was no proper answer -only a low grumble. He did not bother to comment on it. The answer was another grumble. It was obvious that something was bothering Toru Oikawa, but he wasn’t a child, and this nonesense of pouting only annoyed him.

The silence lasted about half a minute before Oikawa finally burst out, “Iwa-chan!“

„Yes?“

„You don‘t ask me anything!“ he whined.

„That’s because you’ll end up telling me everything without me asking once you’re done sulking.

„That‘s not nice! Ask me.“

Iwiazumi huffed. A child indeed.

„Don‘t laugh at me,“ Oikawa hissed.

Calm, Iwaizumi took a sip of his Coke. „So,” he asked evenly. “what’s wrong, Oikawa?”

„Have you seen it?“ was the only defiant reply. The sound a humping car sounded over. He must be rushing through the city.

„Seen what?“

„I know that you know that I know that you’ve seen it!”

„I don‘t, actually.“ Iwiazumi frowned, genuinely confused. „What in gods name are you talking about?“

Oikawa exhaled loudly and the amount of frustration in his voice almost made Iwiazumi feel bad. But only almost.

„I‘d say you lie but you are a terrible liar. I just sent it. But promise not to show anyone. Not that it matters, everyone’s already seen it.” His voice had tipped over to pure anger.

Iwaizumi paused to open the link. It was a newspaper article.

 

OIKAWA TORU IS NO GENIUS!

Knee injury of volleyball player forces him to sit out. Meanwhile, his former student Kageyama Tobio, who remained in Japan, claimed victory in his last match with bravura. The two have challenged themselves since middle school. Is it now Kageyama’s turn to take over?

 

Iwaizumi stopped reading there. „Is it serious?” he asked.

„Obviously. They posted it this morning,” Oikawa snapped cold.

„The injury, I mean.“

„What? I-no no that’s nothing. Focus on that meaningful stuff! Did you read what they wrote? They can’t say that!“

„Seems like they can.“

„I’m going to file a complaint! A lawsuit!”

„I don’t think that‘s how it works… freedom of the press and all that.”

„Pah! This is Argentinia. Or I’ll write an article myself, and it will be about Carlos Menzia’s shitty life- how his wife’s cheated on him and what a loser kid he has and how everyone at work hates him.”

He scoffed, amused. “Who? The journalists?”

„Fight them with their own weapons!” Oikawa heated up. “I can make up lies too.”

„Yeah, you should do that. Maybe you’ll even force a public apology. Oh and maybe they’ll send you get-well-soon-flowers.” Iwaizumi chuckled, before taking another bite.

„Shit I’ll do,“ Oikawa hissed.

“I don’t see why are you’re so mad? Didn‘t think you’d care, to be honest. Do you really want people to praise you for talent instead of all the hard work you’ve put in?”

„Of course I do!“ Oikawa shouted, and Iwaizumi held the phone a little farther from his ear so he wouldn’t go deaf in his twenties. “I know I’m not a genius, obviosly. But they don’t need to know taht too, okay? It makes me look weak. They compared it to the injury like sitting out a game means I’ll fall behind for years. Just imagine little Tobio-chan twirling pirouettes in his room while reading this.”

„Tobio wouldn’t do that. He probably hasn‘t even read it- the newspaper isn’t that big in Japan.“ Then, quieter, not wanting to spark another argument, “or anywhere but Argentina.“

Oikawa didn’t seem to care as he rant further. “I bet he googles me everyday, just to find mistakes while setting his perfect sets in Japan and getting better every day. By now he’s probably glued the article to his mirror so every morning of his life he can see my failure and his genius. God!”

Iwaizumi grinned over the phone. “Why because you’d do the same?”

“You, always thinking the worst of me, doesn’t help at all!”

“Calm down,” Iwaizumi shut him up angry. He had enough of this tantrum this was like speaking to a child, or more, speaking to a younger version of Oikawa all over again. “Hard worked will always beat genius,” he said.

„Hard work beats genius if genius doesn’t work hard.“ Oikawa countered. „And Tobio is both.”

Iwaizumi inhaled deeply. “That again? How many times do I have to tell you that Volleyball is not a single-player sport!“ he yelled, earning a couple of weird looks from the other tables.

„Whou, calm down, Iwa-chan. My poor ears,“ Oikawa’s petty voice whined through the receiver.

„Idiot.“

“Shut up.” Then a hiss, followed by a curse.

„What happened?“

„I burned my feet. The beach’s fucking out here.“

„Are you dumb? Then wear shoes. Thirtyseven degrees isn’t a joke.“

„How do you know?“ Oikawa asked, surprised.

„I do watch the news, Oikawa.“

„Oh, sure.“ His voice lighter. Finally he had calmed down again and Iwaizumi could hang up with a good feeling. The plate was empty, and he was just about to rise from his seat when someone suddenly sat down across from him.

„Hey, how are you?“ a brunette boy with half long surfer hair asked.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at the strange, letting his gaze wander. No- he really was talking to him. “Hello?”

„Sorry, you don’t know me but I overheard your conversation. You were talking about Volleyball. Do you happen to play?“

The guy leaned forward on his elbows as if everything depended on Iwaizumi’s answer. People here really had no sense of personal space. Leaning back in his seat, too stunned by the bluntness, he just said, “Err… yes.”

„Awesome! I‘m Tristan, by the way. Nice to meet you…?”

„Iwa- Hajime,” he corrected himself. „It‘s Hajime.“

„Join us Hajime. Wednesdays and Fridays at 6 pm. at the sports centrum.”

“I have a lot going on at the moment and-“

“New here? That’s fine, we’ll help you eventually.” Tristan tilted his head nodding toward another table where a group of guys and girls sat. His muscle shirt revealed a sunburn on his shoulders and his arms. Not only had he a nice build but a wide back and muscular Bizeps. Yes, defiantly a volleyball player. “What are you studying?” He continued.

“Sport science.”

Tristan’s grin widened. He had a wide mouth and a crooked teeth. Iwaizumi wouldn’t describe himself as a spirituell person, but something in Tristan eyes made him hold his gaze firm. “I’m studying to be a teacher- sports and mathematics.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond and only mustered him with a cool look to not let him know how thrown off he was by the bluntness. usually, he carried an intimidating aura that kept strangers from approaching him. For problems like this, he’d always had Oikawa around. But now that he was on his own… it seemed surprising. Maybe it was just America after all. The country of extroverts, as his mother had warned him. Or maybe it was just kind brown eyes watching him closely, and a challenging flash of the desire to win.

“So, Volleyball,” Tristan pressed on. “Join us for a trial training?”

Iwaizumi nodded once, “I will.”

Tristan’s grin widened, proud of his success. After all, he couldn’t have known that Iwaizumi would’ve shown up on his own in the coming days anyway. As enthusiastic as he had’d arrived he pushed himself up from his seat and knocked once against the table. „I hope you can keep up-we‘re quite good.”

Iwaizumi met his gaze. The challenge making a fling of excitement show inside his chest. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”

And really, on Wednesday after class, Iwaizumi made his way to the gym. The ball came, and met his hand perfectly slamming it past a stunned blocker on the other side of the court.

„Good set,” he commented. The setter’s eyes -James- lit up. It was true, the ball had been good. But it would also been good for the wing spiker, the middle blocker, or the outside hitter.

Good, yes. But not specific for Iwaizumi Hajime.

A hand clapped on his back. Tristans long hair clang to his sweaty forehead as he leaned in with a conspiratorial smirk, “That was an excellent spike. Knew I had a good eye. Thanks for proving me right, Hajime and, welcome to the team.”

After that, it was settled. When lunchtime came, he no langer sat alone at a table FaceTiming with Oikawa or his family. He let his gaze scan the crowd until he was met with a huge smile and a waving arm guiding him towards their table. They were so much different than his friends back at home. A different kind of loud and boisterous. But in the end their world also revolved around volleyball and that was what counted.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Even though the sun was slowly swallowed by the night, the air was still warm enough for a T-shirt. Not long until autumn would arrive-and Iwiazumi found himself of fly glad about that. The heat had really pushed him to his limits this summer.

After a successful practice someone had suggested heading to a near bar and so they made their way across campus with chatter and laughter. Iwaizumi lingered a little behind, watching the Irvine volleyball team get swept up in their little world. He enjoyed seeing them like that-carefree, loud, alive-more than he cared to join in.

Next to him, a girl walked in silence. He’d been introduced to the woman’s volleyball team a while ago, and now sometimes they came along for drinks after practice. Sienna had been the first to talk to him and the first to not leave his side.

She had no problem conforming people. She was a typical American girl who liked iced coffee, always spoke too loudly, and brought the whole group to laugh with one sentence. She was beautiful at first sight, nice within a few words and interesting because she knew a lot about Volleyball tactics. That were all things Iwaizumi could handle pretty well. However, what he could not deal with was her undeniable interest in him.

“Do you enjoy California?” She opened the conversation, with a shrug. “Sorry, that’s probably what everyone asks you. But I’m genuinely curious. I’ve never been outside the US.”

“Yeah… It’s been great,” he coughed. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.

“I’d love to visits Japan one day. My mum went when she was pregnant with me. So technically I did went outside… well, she said it’s great. Maybe you could show me someday?”

“I-“

“Hajime?” A voice called from afar. Relieved he turned to see Tristan jogging toward them.

“We’ll talk later,” she smiled as she walked a little faster ahead. Iwaizumi felt sorry-but not for long, because suddenly a heavy arm dropped around his shoulder and with it a manly swift of bitter cologne.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Not really,” Iwaizumi confessed without thinking. Quickly, he turned his head, but Tristan neither frowned nor laughed. He also didn’t tease with a ‘Come on, everyone likes Sienna’ like James or any of the others would have. Tristan was different. Iwaizumi had slowly learned that conversations with him felt way more authentic than with everyone else. He carried sincere empathy and understanding. He had a calm energy, a way of grounding him.

Tristan let go and straightened up with a self-satisfied grin. “So, your glad I came to save you?”

“Always,” Iwaizumi grinned and nudged him playfully in the side. Tristan only broke into a grin- and Iwaizumi found himself looking away. Yes, he did feel calmer but somehow he also felt more alive.

The sound of his phone buzzing made him stopp dead. Without looking, he already knew sho it was. A splash of annoyance rose in his chest. Oikawa again. Ever since he’d made it an habit to call all the damn time. Whenever boredom hit him-during meals, before training, in between breaks, after training, on his way home. Endless calls with no point.

James glanced back at him, brows knit. With his freshly shaved buzz cut, he reminded him of Kyoutani, and making him older than he actually was. “You coming on what?”

“Just go. I’ll catch up,” Iwiazumi reassured. He turned before taking the call. Overhead, the street lamps flickered to life. Then, turning toward the phone, “What now.”

Oiakwa’s face filled the screen, lounging on his couch with his chin propped up, one unimpressed brow arched high. “Awful way to greet me, Iwa-chan. Really.”

“What do you want,” Iwiazumi bluffed again, irritation lacing in his voice. “I’m out and you should be packing for Brasil.”

“Why did you answer then?” Oikawa shot back.

“Because you were calling, dumbass.”

The words slipped out before he coudl stop them, and he froze. Yeah-why had he answered? He could have simply texted him that he was not available right now, or that he would call tomorrow. And yet he always seemed to get his calls. Like something in him resisted the idea of ignoring Oikawa.

“Lovely to hear that,” Oiakwa replied, oblivious. “It’s nothing.”

Of course it was nothing. Iwaizumi bit back a sigh. It was never anything with Oikawa. Only nonsense and boredom.

“I saw the car your dad always had and thought about you. Didn’t you say, you’ll need a car in the US? I’ve got a new suggestion. Hopefully you’re not still hung up on that one Oldtimer.”

“Of course I am,” Iwaizumi said, dropping onto a bench. “It’s a beautiful car, have you even seen it?”

„Unfortunately I have. It‘s mid,” Oikawa argued flatly. „Talk about outdated. You want a nice car for your first? Talk about a Cabrio. Imagine driving Route 66, the wind in your face and the sun on your nose.”

„I won‘t be driving Route 66 everyday. This isn’t a movie.”

„Duh! You live in California. Of course you will.“

„Maybe once. Who cares?“

„You will. A cabriolet would be perfect. And there are cheaper options.”

And with that Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was right. It would be cheaper. But he’d worked hard for that car, and he wanted it. In two days he’d make his first purchase.

“I know you’re thinking I’m right.”

Iwiazumi rolled his eyes and Oikawa turned in bed, scooched down against the pillows, studying him through screen. He had seen him now almost as often as he had during his time at scholl. His face familiar as his own.

„Stop starring,” Iwaizumi warned.

„I’m not.“

„What are you looking at then?“

„The curtains.“

„Your room doesn‘t have any.”

„That‘s why I was imagining them!“ Oikawa defended himself. „I want some.“

It was annoying, how easily FaceTime blurred the reality: He had never actually been in Argentinia now Oiakwa’s apartment, any yet it sometimes felt like he was in his room. He knew where the spoons lay or the tea. Where the bathroom lay or how much steps it took to the third floor.

A long silence stretched, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I lay like this for hours after the game last week after we lost,” Oikawa signally said breaking it. “My back went all stiff. God, I wanted to die. My ass too.”

„What ass?“ Iwiazumi shot back dryly.

„Fuck off.“

Iwaizumi chuckled alone. His phone buzzed with a text from Tristan. Where are you’?

„Oh shit,” he muttered. “Sorry, I need to go now. Tristan’s wondering here I am. Call you tomorrow?“

Tristan? Weird name, Oikawa had wrinkled his nose as Iwaizumi had mentioned him the first time. Tristan who? he had asked casual the second time. By the third, all he’d done was sigh long and heavy.

„Okay,“ Oikawa said now, stifling a yawn. „I‘m in for a nap anyway.“

„Now? You won’t be able to sleep at night.”

„I’m doing high-performance sports!”

Iwaizumi pushed himself to his feet, heading toward the pub. „Whatever.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him before hanging up.

 

That night, a realization had struck him- while he shook his head, still feeling light from the call, walking into the pub. While he kissed Sienna, drank with James, and talked to Tristan. Deep down, he knew exactly why he still answered every single one of Oiakwa’s calls. He loved his friends here, but talking to someone who knew him inside and out was something else entirely.

The feeling lingered that there might never be anyone in his life who could ever compare to Oikawa burned itself through his skin.

 

Chapter 5: 2017

Iwaizumi yawned as he drove down the street when, suddenly, he pulled violently to the side and stopped the engine.

It was the first time he saw Oikawa on a poster. He was mid-jump, serving- a bright advertisement for sports shoes, a jersey in light blue, the slogan printed bold above him. Oikawa grinned as he looked forward, and Iwaizumi was surprised by how perfectly they had captured that exact look of his. It looked almost copied straight from a real-life-match.

Oikawa Tooru, it said in small red letters.

This was insane. Absolutely insane, he thought as a rush of emotion hit him all at once.

Oikawa had told him about that shoot. He had known when and where the photo had been taken, he’d even seen the final image before. But seeing it here-on a billboard outside a Walmart in Irvine, halfway across the word- that was something else entirely.

Iwiazumi let out a breathless laugh and glanced around. Cars streamed past him. He laughed again, this time out loud.

He took a pic and sent it to Oikawa. ‘Very sweet of you, but you didn’t need to do all that if you wanted me to see you.‘

The reply came within seconds. ‚You left me no choice babydoll. Now you can‘t cheat on me anymore‘

‚Jealous?‘

‚Of what? Someone liking your overly thick eyebrows?’

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and started typing again. ’You’re lucky that California didn’t had to see your face in reality yet. Needed to come here for them to know the truth.”

‘Yes,’ came the instant reply. `Maybe I should do exactly that.`

Iwiazumi froze. His heartbeat quickened within seconds. God. He was only joking, he tried to calm himself, nothing else. But what if he wasn’t?

 

 

°°°

 

 

„There it is,” Oikawa said softly, running his hand affectionately along the passenger door of the car. “It’s nice, but it’s not a Mercedes Benz 230 in dark green from 1984. What happened?”

„You’re right. It’s not,” Iwaizumi admitted, leaning against the car door of his Toyota Corolla 2010. „had to leave room upwards for the dream.”

Oikawa had been right- the other car had been to expensive. And even though he would have been able to purchase it. He’d wanted to save some money. He had liked the old Toyota from the very beginning. Charming, simple and comfortable. For now, the car just needed to drive and make him feel good.

Oikawa gave him a look. „Or you could pursue it and then there is time for a new dream.“

He ran his hand along the door again.

„What?“ Oikawa asked as when he caught Iwaizumi’s gaze.

„Where did you get that from? Are you quoting a wall tattoo?”

Oikawa looked instantly guilty.

„Where?“

„…Tangled.”

Iwaizumi blinked. „The kids Disney animation?“

„It‘s a very well-made film with a nice message and- hey!” Oiakwa snapped, pointing accusingly. “Stop laughing!“

„I’m not,“ Iwaizumi said laughing. Shaking his head, he walked aroudn to the driver’s side. “Get in, Eugene.”

“Ha! So you’ve seen it too.”

It was warm and bright, the kind of Californian weather that made the world feel easy. It was surreal- having him here, in this life, in this place.

Oikawa hummed along to a song on the radio beside him, and Iwaizumi found himself glancing over every now and then. Afraid he might disappear if he looked away for too long.

But Oikawa didn’t. And he wouldn’t- not for two whole weeks.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Again, they were in Iwaizumi’s car. And again Oikawa had taken the music over, without asking. The speakers players a Spanish song-something upbeat- and Oikawa sang along like he’d known it all his life.

Iwiazumi shot him a sideways look. “How the hell do you know all of the lyrics to every song?”

“It’s quite populare in Argentinia. Never heard it?“

„No. This is the US. I hear American Pie, daily.”

“Wouldn’t trade places with your playlist anyway,” Oikawa snorted.

Oikawa, had his head tilted back, sunglasses on, and sun pouring over his taint skin. “You are really settling im, huh?” he said.

Oikawa huffed in response but a small smile showed on his lips making Iwaizumi’s breath stock.

The beach is not much crowded. Oikawa battles him on a handstand contest- just to loose miserably. Covered head to toe in sand and with an irritable frown, Iwaizumi didn’t waste a second before snapping a photo.

„Nooooo,“ Oikawa whined immediately, lunging for the phone. “Delete that! You could make a Greek god look like Gollum with your photography skills!”

“You are not a Greek god,” Iwaizumi reminded him pointy. “And my pictures are fine!”

“Do I need to remind you of that one of you and Ushiwaka?”

“It wasn’t that bad your just mad because it was him.”

“Look at the one of Chibi-chan and me in Brazil for comparison! I’ve heard better lies than that Iwa-chan,“ Oikawa said mischievously, reaching fro the phone again.

Iwaizumi twisted away, and Oikawa stumbled, grabbing him- but missed and fell straight into the sand again. Alone.

“Seems like the sand became my new friend for today.” Oikawa groaned and threw his arms and legs out dramatically. “Help me up!” he demanded.

Iwaizumi crossed his arms, grinning down at him. “No.”

“Iwa-Chan,” Oikawa warned, his voice dangerous.

From above Iwaizumi smirked. “You know you really have a double chin from this angle.”

Oikawa gasped. „Help me up. Right now.” Holding out a hand, “Please.“

Iwaizumi offered a hand at last, pulling him up in one smooth motion. He only realized how close they were standing when he could see the faint sunburn across Oikawa’s nose and cheeks, he hadn’t seen before.

“The sun suits you,” Oikawa said suddenly, matter of fact. It was true- the California light brought out the warmth of his Filipino skin. Oikawa’s smile widened and it was still brighter than any sunny day he had ever witnessed.

If Iwaizumi truly had thought that all the time had changed anything between them, he had been wrong. It was as if time stopped when he was with Oikawa. Everytging ahd changed and still nothing at all- the intensity how Oikawa looked at him, the teasing when they talked, and most of all how his body reacted to him. What was it with Oikawa nowadays that made him react like that?

Embarrassed Iwaizumi turned away. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Argentina.”

„What can I say?” Oikawa grinned. “All weather suits me.”

They ended up in the water soon after, splashing, shouting, laughing until the sky turned gold.

Later that evening, Iwaizumi set his phone down. His background for Oikawa’s profile now the photo of him sprawled helpless in the sand, mid protest and covered in sunlight.

Feeling light as never he made his way to the bathroom. He stopped at the door front. The window steam and the air damp. Deliberately provocative, a familiar deodorant had been placed at the edge of the sink. A blue toothbrush tossed carelessly beside it. Oikawa was chaos in every way.

Unwillingly he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Concentrating on the mix of a deodorant and shampoo lingering in the air.

An unavoidable feeling washed over him, heavy with a bad premonition. The unexplainable feeling he had spent a lifetime pushing away, now slowly rising again to consume him.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Iwaizumi had taken on the role of tour guide, and Oikawa had discovered a liking for road trips. They’d just come back from a visit to the Hollywood Sign. “A classic,” Oikawa had said. “An awful cliché,” Iwaizumi had countered annoyed. Noon had already carried on slowly. Iwaizumi prepared a big bowl of ramen as he summed along to American Pie on the radio, when Oikawa walked in wearing only his boxer shorts and a white T-shirt.

“Good morning princess,” he mocked with a grin. The response was only a sleepy groan. „Sit down. I cooked,” he tried again.

That made Oikawa’s eyes widen. „Aww are you my girlfriend Iwa-chan?“ he smiled, pushing Iwaizumi in a violent hug.

„I wouldn’t cook for you as your girlfriend,” Iwaizumi protested harsh, freeing himself.

„Why not?”

“I’d be too busy keeping all the girls away from you.”

Oiakwa rolled his eyes, „You’re so annoying Iwaizumi Hajime. Stop saying that. You always say stuff like that. I am the most loyal person in a relationship. I always was. And always will be.”

„Well then,” Iwiazumi said, “maybe I’d even cook for you sometimes.“

In silence they ate. Iwiazumi was long finished and so he lay His hand on his hand.

Tiredly watching Oikawa while he ate. He couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little lost. Which was weird, because why would someone look happy eating. But it was something how his mouth tensed and his brows drew together that told him that something had been bother him. And it was a feeling inside Iwaizumi’s stomach that made a knot. He was here but he still refused tot all to him.

It was how it always had been.

“Stop that,” Oikawa said suddenly, tone hard.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said under a yawn.

“I know you’re watching me. Didn’t your mum ever tell you it’s rude to stare at people like that?”

”No, actually she actually said that to you-“

”Liar. You’re still watching me.”

“I was just looking- you’ve ramen on your chin. It’s disgusting.”

Oikawa smirked and his eyes glistened. “I do not. Unlike you, I actually know how to eat.” He tapped lightly at the corner of his mouth. Embarresed, Iwaizumi wiped his own roughly with his sleeve.

He thought the conversation was over-both of them focused in their own minds-when Oiakwa spoke again. His voice was quieter now, stripped of the usual teasing.

“You do that all the time…watching me.”

“Hey, Egokawa, quit it, okay?” Iwiazumi snapped, throwing a chopstick ant him. “I’m not.”

That made Oikawa’s mouth twist a little.

The warm wind streamed through the open kitchen window, softening the sun into something bearable-pleasant Californian weather.

“Hey, want to play beach volleyball?” He asked out of nowhere.

“Beach volleyball?”

“Don’t look so disguted. It’s harder than it looks.” Oikawa nodded eagerly. “All the sand, and sun. But come on, I had a lot of training in Brazil.”

“Well,” he considered. The sun was hot but sitting for the rest of the day would be a waste. “I could ask Tristan and James if they’re up for a match.”

“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to meet him. Let’s see if that guy really looks as good as his socials make him out to be,” Oikawa grinned, brushing his hand through Iwiazumi hair to mess it up completely. Iwaizumi groaned and slapped Oikawa’s hand too harsh away- leaving a faint tickle where his touch had been. Butt when he glanced to the side he saw Oikawa’s head turned away from him.

 

„Heard you‘re a setter too,” Tristan said with a smile, lifting his sunglasses to muster Oikawa. He wore his usual muscle shirt and his long surfer hair again in an high bun. Next to him James in a buzz cut wearing a murderious expression.

Iwaizumi sighed. Of course his friends didn’t show themselves from their best sides. And indeed something in Oikawa’s complacent person seemed to shift. But only for a second, only so short that Iwiazumi thought he had imagined it. Then Oikawa let out a huff. With a sufficient grin he raised one eyebrow. “I am.” There was a dangerous spark in his eyes telling how much he loved a challenge. “Hope you know we’ll beat you. Iwa-chan and I are a well-oiled team.”

Iwaizumi made a grimace. “Don’t say it like that.”

“He’s also good with us,” Tristan considered, arms crossed before his chest. “When was the last time you two even played together, Hajime?”

“Nationals,” Iwiazumi said automatically-and froze. Why had he said that? “Err, no. I mean, the spring prelims,” he corrected quickly. But he knew exactly why that was the first thing that came to mind.

That’s how it should have been.

“Spring prelims?” asked, James. “You mean as a selection beforehand?”

Iwaizumi blinked. “You don’t have Nationals?”

“Yes, we do. We just don’t have to qualify for it. We went a dozen times in high school.”

„Still,” Tristan said clamping in his hands. “That‘s most likely unfair you’ve two trained longer together than we have.” He pointed at Oikawa, “We should switch team. Me and Hajime against you and James.“

And indeed it seemed as if Oikawa had lost his words for the first time since he had known him. Unmoved he stood there not reacting. he knew wit wasn’t because of the announcation, but more of what James had said before. He needed to do something. Quickly.

„Unfair to who?” He jumped in. “Same goes for you two. Scared?“

James and Tristan looked at each other- then let out a barking laughter.

„Fair enough then,“ James agreed with a grin. “Let’s show them Tris. Better be ready.”

Iwaizumi ducked under the net and slapped Oiakwa’s hand. Whose face twisted in anger. With his backside to the others he whispered “A dozen times?”

Iwiazumi nodded bitterly and mouthed back, “I know.”

Obviously, Iwiazumi was at a disadvantage with the sand and the sun, just as Oikawa had predicted. But they held their ground well. He quickly figured out how to jump, now to move in the sand from which angle Oikawa liked to attack to give him a better line of sight.

And the entire time- Oikawa’s eyes were always on him following him on court.

Because there he was. His setter. The ball set perfectly to him, just the way he’d always liked it. This was it-this was everything he’d most of all missed about Oikawa. Everything clicked together, exactly how it should have been.

He sprang, swung and hit the ball over the net. The last missing point and now they’d won. Coming down on the ground he fell into the sand. Leaning on his hands, face dripping sweat.

The feeling threatened to consume him. James and Tristan began to shake Oikawa’s hand. Breathless he forced himself to stand up again, and catch Oikawa’s glancing eyes. This was the best day of his life.

“Good job,” he breathed to him, slowly turning away. But Oikawa was faster. Joyful, Oikawa swung an arm around his shoulder. “Good to see you’re still my ace. Look over there, we have visitors.”

Indeed, they had.

Sienna and Maria had joined them, chatting and laughing as they set up a three on three game. This time they swapped. Iwaizumi, Tristan and Sienna vs. James, Maria and Oikawa.

Again, Oikawa’s team won. Maria high-fived her teammates and Sienna turned around with a groan.

She said something but his gaze was still pinned on the couple before him.

“You’ve got good reflexes for the ball,” Oiakwa praised her. “When I first played beach volleyball, I was complete lost.”

“Bonus points if you’ve lived near the beach your whole life,” Maria shot back. “And I guess you sets are also… passable.”

“Passable?” Oikawa laughed out.

“Most of them,” she teased.

He turned away from their conversation. It was always the same- Oikawa being Oikawa.

The sun had already set and so they began the search for a bar to settle in for the night.

It was Tristen who nudged him on the way. “Is it always like that?” He whispered with a nod ahead toward the couple, who again laughed about something they seemed to have in common.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “You should’ve seen him in high school.”

“I have no doubt believing that after watching Oikawa play. Don’t think I have ever seen passes that precise. You’re even better with his sets. It was amazing.”

“That’s probably because of our deep connection and life-build trust,” Oikawa suddenly called back over his shoulder.

“Fuck off!” Iwaizumi yelled and shoved him hard between the shoulder blades to make him face forward again. “How many times do I have to tell you that we don’t have anything like that?”

Oikawa scoffed dramatically, and Tristan laughed under his breath. “No seriously,” he said leaning in. “He’s really good. What does he do?”

„No worries. Think I failed to mention he’s going pro.“

„Oh fuck off! Your going pro?“ James swore from beside them. Well, it seemed like everyone decided to ears drop today. “Knew there was something off about you.“ James eyes narrowed, and Oikawa lifted both hands with an apologetic grin.

„Oh, I‘ll tell everyone we know each other, then,” James said.

Oikawa grinned wider. “Sure thing. You get the first autograph once I make it to the national team.”

Once. Not if.

“National team?” James gasped. And Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He really needed that, being admired and the center of attention at all time.

„I think you need to stop that career of yours right now before James goes violent,” Tristan cuts in, smirking. “Can’t decide If I want to choke you to death or make you my hubby.”

That made Oikawa laugh, freely. “You failed to mention how funny your friends are, Iwa-chan.”

Tristan gleamed. James hang an arm around Oikawa’s shoulder, „Listen. Tris is right, you can still play. Just not at pro level. Deal?“

„Where’s the fun in that?“ Oikawa said mischievous. „They don’t show hobby players on TV, do they?”

„Why does it matter if it’s on TV?“ Iwaizumi brought himself to ask. “Girls would come see you play nevertheless.”

“You can’t see me there, silly,” Oikawa said naturally, with that charming smile that always gave Iwiazumi the illusion it might be reserved for him. “I need you eyes on me all the time, Iwa-chan.”

He sang it, teasingly, but Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted painful at the words.

The evening carried on and by the end there had been small groups relaxed on the comfortable couch langue. The lanterns made a warm light and the sound of the ocean seemed dreamy. Iwaizumi leaned back taking a long sip of his beer.

“Hey,” Tristan lowered his voice.

“Hey.”

“I wanted to ask you that earlier but, are you okay?”

He frowned. “Sure.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes? Obviously.”

“Okay. I just thought you looked a little confused earlier at the game. I think I like him. He suits you in a way.”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped toward him. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

Tristan shook his head and sat down his glass. “Nothing.”

But something in Tristan’s gaze made his blood froze.

“You two seem very close. I don’t know if I have witnessed teh situation right but if there is anything you’d like to talk to me about. I’d be happy to help. I know a thing or two myself and-“

“Talk to you about what?” His tone had grown sharp, testing. He couldn’t know. How would he if he himself had only figured it out today. Was it that visible for everyone else?

“It’s fine, Tris,” he interrupted full of panic. “Drop it!”

“Okay.”

“I have to go now,” he announced rising form his seat. “Have you seen this idiot?”

“I- he went to the bathroom a while ago, I think.”

“Thanks. See you.”

“Err… bye,” Tristan frowned, visibly confused. “But Hajime-“

But Iwaizumi was had already stood up and made his way through the crowded bar.

He stopped at a corner.

Pressed against the wall, he saw Maria- Oiakwa’s hand tangled in her hair, the other resting on her slim waist.

A wave of anger and bitterness shot through him, fast and hot. What had he expected? And why, why was he angry in the first place? He had seen Oikawa kiss girls all his life right before his eyes. But still a dagger cut deep through his skin.

“Could you extend that another time? I’d like to leave,” he said, the words sharp and loud like a bite.

Both turned, startled.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa commented, voice neutral at first-then softening, almost worried. “Are you okay?”

“God! Why does everyone keeps asking me that? I just want to leave. And I can’t leave your stupid ass here all alone, can I? So hurry up Trashkawa!”

Oikawa’s frown deepened but he said no more. Instead he let go of Maria, and whispered something toward her. She nodded and brushed past Iwaizumi.

“Oh Hajime,” she remembered. “Have you seen Sienna? Think we should leave too.”

“With James,” he replied shortly.

She nodded again, then left.

“Hey,” Oikawa said, all alone on the way to his car. “God, Iwa-chan. What happened? You look like thunder. Has Tristan said something?”

Iwaizumi shook his head hard, as if that could silent the annoying voice next to him by it. Sure, Tristan. This was idiotic. But the fury only grew-that sick, consuming feeling that burned through logic.

He hated him. He hated him so much. With his stupid charm and his effortless ability to be loved by everyone.

Not even here. Not even on his vacation with just the two of them, he could stop it.

“Iwa-chan.”

A hand on his upper arm, holding him back. When he looked up he was faced with a confused face. Those eyes. Those fucking eyes that always wandered around. Only on court he had Oiakwa’s eyes all for himself. It was as only then he cared about him.

Harshly, Iwaizumi tore himself away and let himself fall on the drivers seat. Silently, cursed himself. This was going to kill him- he was sure of it.

The drive back was silent. No one dared to play the radio. Oikawa glanced at him more than once, but Iwaizumi stared straight ahead at the road, pretending not to notice.

It’s dark and only the creeping of an owl sound through the night. Two car doors fall close. This day needed to end. The sooner the better.

“You’re different to me,” Oikawa said accusatory, almost hurt. “Why?” He had caught up with him.

“I’m not,” Iwaizumi said too quickly, unlocking the apartment.

“Yes, you are.”

“I am different? Well you’re all the same!” Iwaizumi spat, finally turning toward him.”You come here. You fuck my friends, and then you leave, and everything’s in pieces.”

Oikawa tilted his head cool. “I didn’t plan of fucking her.”

“As if that matters!”

The room of Iwaizumi’s small apartment lay dark like they had left it, only a cozy orange light next to his bed spared them sight. Violent he threw his bag on the couch and walked over to the kitchen aisle. The feeling of cold water running down his throat really seemed to cool his temper down.

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan,” a soft voice sounded over. Oikawa had stepped next to him. His tone completely indifferent and somehow that made it worse. “I didn’t plan to mess up your life. I should have realized.”

“It’s nothing new,” he murmured-not as a reproach, just a quiet fact. “It’s unusual to have you here,” he went on. “it reminds me of things I thought I’d already forgotten. Like everyone bowing down your feet.”

A hurt expression flashed over Oikawa’s face. “I thought this is what you wanted. Me here.”

“God!” Iwiazumi breathed out. “It is.” Everything about this felt twisted in misunderstandings and his own cowardice. How was Oikawa supposed to know, it was not his fault he was being unfair. “Of course it is. I always want you here.”

A small smile tugged at Oiakwa’s curved mouth. “You could say stuff like that more, you know. Sometimes I feel like you don’t want to be friends with me anymore.”

Iwaizumi huffed, leaning backwards against the kitchen aisle. “As if.”

“No really. You’ve got a new life here. We don’t talk as much and whenever I call, you’re busy or you have to leave. And you always punch me—ow, that hurts!”

“Then stop being an idiot!” Iwaizumi blasted out annoyed. “You’re the one who never talks about things that actually matter. You keep everything to yourself!”

Oikawa looked ready to anrgue-but then sinething changed. His voice lowered. “It’s not easy for me to talk to someone. I’m telling you this once, and only you okay?” He paused. “When I went to Brazil, I was… in a bad place. Really bad. Crisis kind of bad. I’ve never felt that low before.”

Now it was Iwaizumi to search for words. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

“But you called,” he said, suddenly remembering. The realization hit him hard. “You called all the time.”

And he had not noticed. God, how awful he had been. How had he not noticed Oikawa’s state.

“It’s okay. I’m better now. Your invitation was exactly what I needed. I enjoy spending time with you Iwa-Chan. There is no one I’d like to be closer to and being here has made me feel better than I’d ever thought it could.”

A genuine smile showed on his face. Hitting Iwaizumi right in his stomach. Hazel eyes carefully watching every movement of him. The sharper jawline, the same mischievous eyes, still bright as ever. Why would he ever look at him that way? This was nothing he reminded himself. This was only Oikawa having a flirty personality and him being a loser.

Suddenly, Oikawa laughed out loud. His face twisting in complacency. “It’s fine, Iwa-chan. No need to say something, I know you wouldn’t let me go even if I tried to ran away from you. You need me in your life. My grandiose personality, my perfect abs, and my beautiful face.”

He was beautiful. “No,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t let you go.”

Oikawa’s head snapped toward him in surprise. But instead of a witty retort, Oikawa only swallowed. And Iwaizumi could do nothing else but follow the movement. Then slowly rising, to the familiar outline, the infuriating, clever lips. He was so close and the warm light at in the corner made just the right amount of light.

„I know,” Oikawa whispered. His tone had lost all of its sharpness.

It was raw. Disarming. The words threw him complete off balance. Confused, the words came out hoarse: „What do you know?“

„I know what you are thinking.”

Iwaizumi shook his head slowly. “I don’t think you do this time.”

Slowly he lifted his lips and met dark eyes. Without thinking, with no logic he leaned in and closed the distance-soft, hesitant, full of longing. The kiss was gentle and only lasted a few seconds before Oikawa froze.

Then, like struck of lightning he pulled back.

Wide eyed he opened his mouth but no words came out.

“Listen-“ Iwaizumi began quickly. He needed to clarify. Explain himself and beg for mercy before Oiakwa would run away, but before he could speak further, Oikawa had pressed their lips together once more. And it was everything. His hand came up to the back of his hair, pulling him closer, slower. The kiss was gentle but Oikawa began deepening it. His hand found Iwiazumi’s bizeps, holding with one hand on to it, with the other gripping his waist firm. Eager Iwiazumi pushed him on his back, hovering over him.

That made Oikawa pull back, again. “Wait, I…I’m not… or anything,” he muttered between heavy breaths.

He could see it: the hesitation, the realization, the storm in Oikawa’s eyes and the instinct to run.

„No, no,“ Iwiazumi agreed fast. “It‘s just us,” he whispered. “No one has to know.”

„Right,” Oikawa murmured, “Just us.” Then he kissed him harder.

Everything he had never been sure of made sense in that moment. There would never be someone that could compare to that.

When Oikawa’s hand tangled in his spiky hair, pulling him closer. When he made soft noises under Iwiazumi’s eager kisses. How they fought for dominance, a mixture of teasing and laughing. The herb deodorant mixed with his warm breath was intoxicating.

Determined Oikawa kept him close until they were only breath and groans to be heard.

Exhausted they fell asleep, their legs tangled. Listening to the even breaths next to him Iwaizumi had to suppress a flatter of euphoria. This was how it was meant to be.

When he opened his eyes it was already bright in the room. Immediately searching for the space beside him- it was empty.

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath, stumbling out of the bed. The phone that had been on the other bedside table was gone. Still half-dazed, he pulled on some pants and checked the bathroom. No one.

He swore again. They shouldn’t have done that. He had known that Oikawa hadn’t been sure of it. Why had he even kissed him back?

Then, something racked outside. The front door opened and a sweating Oikawa in track shoes stood in the room. „Huh? Going somewhere?“

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, closed the distance between them, and let his head fall against Oikawa’s shoulder.

Lightly, he chuckled near him. “I know it’s been almost two hours since I last saw you sleep, but it’s not exactly normal to miss someone that much, you know.” Lecturing he patted Iwaizumi’s head as if to tease him.

Iwaizumi tried to tackle him, but Oikawa’s reflexes were faster.

He spun around somehow managing to pin him against the counter. His arms caging him in, and Iwaizumi -ever stubborn- crossed his own arms over his chest in defiance. He could feel the muscles flexed under his shirt, and Iwaizumi could also feel hazel eyes following its motion.

It was weird, Oikawa had his hands on him only hours ago, but now in pure daylight it was different.

“If you wanted me there, you could have just said so,” Iwaizumi teased.

But then- shy fingers brushed his neck. A hand slid up, firm and deliberate, curling around the back of his neck waiting there to see his reaction.

“You know I was right,” A low voice murmured case to his ear. “Tristan does have a huge built. Maybe you should go to the gym with him more often and get a little training. These arms are almost embarrassing compared to-“

Iwaizumi scoffed, grabbed Oikawa’s taille and pulled him in.

The response was a sharp breath followed by hands burning in his hair, his Bizeps, and back, bringing their lips together.

“Where did you even learn this?” Oikawa breathed in a little break, “Have you even kissed anyone before? Oh my god, are you a virgin? You never had a girlfriend before and-“

“I’ll stuff your mouth if you keep talking.”

Iwaizumi grabbed him closer put Oikawa pulled away again.

„Wait,” he hesitated. “Tell me that nothing changes. I have no idea what it is, I only know that you are my best friend. And this is… beyond everything. Tell me it changes nothing between us. I don’t want to leave California regretting I came, okay? Swear it.”

„Nothing will change.”

Again they stumbled back together, neither attempting to leave for the rest of the day.

It was almost funny how normal it felt- touching, teasing, kissing. Iwaizumi felt himself relax into it, but somehow he couldn’t forget that moment in the morning- how afraid he’d been when he’d woken up alone. That’s how it would always be with Oikawa. How long until it would take until the realization settled in for him. He was just lucky it hadn’t been this time.

 

 

°°°

 

 

In fact, not much had changed.

When they drove, Oikawa still blasted Spanish hits sand along to them. They still challenged each other in every situation and Oikawa even managed to do a proper handstand. They jogged along the beach, went on hikes or drove through the city.

But in the small moments-when Iwaizumi was caught up in something, and looked up- he’d catch Oikawa’s gaze lingering a little too long on him. Dark eyes, filled with something that made his throat tighten.

And every evening, whenever they came back to the apartment after a long day in public, Iwaizumi barely managed to drop his keys before Oikawa pushed him against the nearest wall and kissed the hell out of him.

Reminding him that indeed everything had changed.

 

It was noon already and Iwaizumi lay lazy on the couch when Oikawa set a bowl of rice and vegetables in front of him. It made him look up from his phone.

“Tris asks where the hell we’ve been up to.”

Oikawa paused in his motion, “Did you tell him?”

“Of course not. Just that we’ve been busy- trips and all. The team wants to play cards with the others tonight. You in?”

Oikawa hesitated. “I’m leaving in three days. We don’t have much time anymore.”

“Yeah, three days. Not tomorrow, Shittykawa. Come on, It’ll just one evening.”

“Fine,” Oikawa groaned dramatically. “Let’s go see the guy you see everyday instead of spending time with me, who flew miles just to see you.”

He dropped himself on top of Iwaizumi with theatrical exhaustion. He rolled his eyes, one arm automatically curling around Oikawa’s shoulder as he texted back.

When they arrived at Tristan’s apartment the team was already there. They were drunk again, laughing over cars, and it was almost easy to forget. Three days until Oiakwa’s flight.

Almost accidentally an arm brushed against his as Oikawa leaned back eagerly discussing with James about the rules.

The music inside the kitchen was not as blasting as in the living room. Iwaizumi grabbed himself another beer and took a deep breath. Steps behind him make him turn.

Oikawa stood in the doorframe. “What are you doing?”

He held the beer up high in response.

Oikawa nodded, leaning his backside against the counter.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“About?”

Oikawa shook his head. “Everything and nothing.”

Of course he wouldn’t tell. Everything inside his mind was always a secret.

“Do you have fun?” He asked instead.

“I do. I like them. I’m glad your in good hands when I’m away.”

Something stang inside him. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said cool.

Even despite the whole room between them something fell in Oikawa’s face too.

“Iwa-chan.”

“Oikawa,” he said. Making his way through the huge kitchen until he was standing before him. Oikawa’s hight making his hazel eyes looking a little down on him.

„I don’t know how to explain this,” he began, speaking wherever this feeling inside him was coming from. “Or what it means. You are the greatest setter I have ever gotten to play with. And if that means we have to be separated by countries then fuck it. You are my best friend Oikawa and nothing will change that.“

And suddenly he knew what it was. What he was. He was in love.

It all made sense-horribly, perfectly, inevitably. The realization hit him like a wave, crashing low in his gut. This was awful. The worst. It couldn’t be.

„God! Iwa-chan shut it,“ Oikawa laughed bright. His brown hair siting as perfect as always and the smell of deodorant clang to his shirt. „You’re making me go red.“

That was all he said.

So Iwaizumi kissed him. And Oiakwa responded with a small smile tucked on his lips as he kissed him back.

“Hajime,” Oikawa breathed.

And Iwiazumi died a little inside. It was strange hearing him say his name like that. No one back home ever did-not Oiakwa. Despite everyone calling him that now, it felt weirdly intimate when he said it like that.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“Ha-ji-me.”

His breath hitched, everything in him went soft as he broke the kiss. They stood close, Oikawa leaned lazily against the counter one hand playing with the hair in Iwiazumi’s neck while he had both hands next to Oikawa to cage him in.

“Come on, lovebirds! This is not over- the others are already far ahead!” A voice called inside the kitchen, then he was gone again.

And suddenly, with that single sound, Oiakwa was out of reach-freeing himself ins seconds.Startled Iwiazumi turned and when their eyes met, Oikawa were wide- filled with terror.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Iwaizumi said softly. But Oikawa stepped back.

“They know,” he hissed, his voice in panic. “Have you told them?”

“Of course not. When would I have done that? It was only Tris- he can see through people, it’s his thing. I don’t think anyone else has noticed. Don’t worry, he won’t tell.”

“There is nothing to tell!” Oikawa snapped.

Iwaizumi frowned.

“This was…” Oikawa started, anger showing on his face but his voice trembled, “well. This was nothing! Just us, Iwa-chan. You promised! It didn’t mean anything.”

Didn’t. Past tense.

“I should have go back to San Juan and nothing would have change between us. I return to kissing girls and you will too. And we keep FaceTiming and stay close how we always were.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi said, holding up a hand. “Calm down.”

“I can’t! Because now everything is fucked up. They know- and this could cost me everything I’ve been working for. I’m not gay! I will have a wife, a beautiful house, a garden, children. Everything I’ve ever imagined. And I will play volleyball for as long as I can.”

He was talking fast, too fats, words tumbling over one another like he was trying to bury something beneath them.

“Got it,” Iwaizumi said dryly. “Kissing your best friend does not have a place in this.”

“No, it does not. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me lately, what’s going through my mind whenever you’re around. So no-“ he gestured between them,” -stop. Please.”

Before Iwaizumi could respond, Oikawa was already walking away, shoulders tense, head high- returning to the group as if nothing had happened.

Slowly Iwaizumi returned too. Silent he watched his friends as the evening carried on.

All evening, he kept an eye on him. Oikawa had gone back to laughter, chatting and smiling-the same as always. He looked fine. Maybe too fine.

Oikawa didn’t touch him again. Not once.

Later that night, when they’d stepped sleepy in his apartment, there were no eager hands or breathless kisses. Silent Oikawa made himself ready to settle on the couch.

“Spend the night,” Iwaizumi said naturally, nodding toward his bed.

“No.” Oikawa’s tone was sharp. He half-turned toward him. “Not tonight.”

“Yes, tonight.”

Unexpectedly he grabbed Oiakwa’s wrist, pulled him back and the next moment Oikawa was on the bed.

“No!” Oikawa growled, kicking wildly. “Let me go!”

Determined, Iwiazumi held him own. “You’re not leaving.”

“Why?”

“Because we shouldn’t be alone right now, idiot!”

Oikawa shoved back hard. “Leave it. I’m serious.” His eyes burned. Nothing reminded him of that bright smiling guy all evening. “Stop it, Hajime!”

“I’m serious too!”

They fought-fists, words, all tangled. The fight wasn’t fair, wasn’t even about what he’d said. It was everything underneath.

Then there was silence. Both of them panting, their legs tangled. The air heavy. For a while, neither moved.

“I hate you.”

“Spend the night,” Iwaizumi said again. “You’re not leaving.”

Oikawa scoffed, then he rolled to the other side as far away from him as he could.

“Listen, about what hap-“

“It’s okay. I’m fine, Iwa-chan!” He snapped. “You don’t need to crawl all over me. It makes me sick.”

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw. “Will you leave?”

A pause. Then a long exhale. “No.”

“Good.”

This was fucked up. So fucked up. But he woudl manage. Somehow he’d take that fear away from him. This was still nothing. It didn’t need to mean anything. It was only them. He did not like guys whatsoever, he only liked him. Oikawa could keep kissing girls if they’d continue whatever this was. Tristan wouldn’t tell and no one else say. Iwaizumi would tell him all that-tomorrow.

And with that, he could finally closed his eyes-listening to Oikawa’s even breathing next to him.

When he woke the next morning, the bed beside him was empty. A new message waited on his phone unread: ‘I left earlier, Iwa-chan. Couch called-one of the guys got injured and I have to step in. Didn’t want to wake you. We’ll phone.’

 

That had been a mistake, Iwaizumi realized only later. He had kissed him in California.

Not in Argentina, where most of Oikawa’s life now rooted itself. Not in Japan, where their own foundations had been laid and Iwaizumi’s heart was. No, it had been California. Just a country he had lived in for a short time. A place they were merely visiting. A temporary space they would both leave behind. No one had lost their souls to this place. No one had intended to stay.

And just like that empty stretch of land, that borrowed sun and air, his confession meant nothing. It would get lost here- in this hollow country- with nothing to hold onto.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed today’s chapter. It turned out way longer than intended…
I said it before but a huge SORRY for typos including their names, I hate autocorrect. Anyways, thanks for reading and let me know what you think.
-ServerX

Chapter 6: 2018

 

Finally, even Irvine had surrendered its heat, and snow gathered on teh ground. Watching it turn brown and slushy along the campus made him more and more homesick for the calm, quiet Sendai and his family.

It was almost a week later when he took matters into his own hands. he called Oikawa from inside his car. One hand on the freezing steering wheel, with the other resting on the window frame he ate an apple.

“I’m flying home,” he announced, teeth stuck in the fruit.

“Hello to you too, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa chuckled on the other side.

“Want to come along?” he asked casually, still chewing, still half-distracted by the busy road ahead.

“To Japan?” Oikawa’s tone went flat.

“Mhm.”

Oikawa hesitated. Then, “I can’t, sorry. I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’m moving and all.”

Iwaizumi suppressed a sigh. He had known. But still, he had hoped. And because Oikawa didn’t ask him anything, he stayed quiet too. Grimly, he spat the apple seeds out the open window.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. “All the time.”

He listened closely. A soft chuckle came through the line.

“Oh, Iwa-chan.” And it didn’t sound like he was taking him any serious. “If only you knew how much I’d like to have everything back.”

He was right. Iwaizumi didn’t know. And he didn’t even know what he wanted back. It had been almost five months since Oikawa had visited. They still phoned. Not as much as before and only about trivialities.

All that only made him angrier-because he had had everything once.

“We need to talk about this,” he said, his voice suddenly hard, final.

“About what?”

“You and me. Us. In California. I knwo you’re scared that talking about it will ruin everything, but I promise you- it’s the opposite.”

Oiakwa clicked his tongue. “Just forget about it,” the pressure behind his light tone gave him away.

“No.”

“Don’t get on my nerves,” he bit suddenly. “Do you enjoy making my life harder?”

Iwaizumi scoffed. The audacity was unbelievable.

Then his voice lowered, “You promised nothing would change,” Oikawa warned.

“What do you mean? Everything has changed. You can’t even find a topic to talk to me properly for months.”

“It was one time. You know I’m not…”

“Me neither,” Iwaizumi yelled frustrated. “I’m not gay. But that is not even the point.” He didn’t even know why he needed to say it- maybe because Oikawa never would.

There was only silence.

“It’s just you. You’re the only guy I’d anything. And it confuses me too. And I hate you. God, I hate you so much how you never let me close enough to actually speak you mind. Instead it’s all in your head and I have no idea where I even stand. You can’t decide shit like that on your own.”

“Where is that coming from now?” His voice numb.

Way too fast, Iwaizumi turned off the highway and drove down a narrow country road. He didn’t even remember where he was going- just driving.

“What do you mean?”

“Why now?”

Why now. What kind of reaction was that.

“What- you couldn’t see this coming?” He barked out a bitter laugh. “God, are you serious?”

He might have laughed again if it hadn’t been so absurd. Everything was. It was as if he was the only one who remembered California. The lump in his throat only grew and the anger threatened to consume him.

“What happened to always reading my mind, huh?”

Again silence. Somehow Oikawa had become an expert at shutting his mouth.

“I gotta go now,” he said.

Iwaizumi groaned deeply. “Then go.”

“You’re being really unfair.”

“No you are. Face the truth, Oikawa. I know I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it.”

This time it was Oikawa whose anger took over him, “Who cares what I enjoy when there’s no place for it in my life!”

He hadn’t said it but the you, hung heavy in the air between them.

Iwaizumi pulled to the side of the road, stopping abruptly on the grass. He ran his hands over his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes to calm himself.

Frustration was all he felt. The naivety and stubbornness of typical Oikawa Tooru- succeeding in anything he set his mind to. A master of repressing. And running away.

“Hey,” Oikawa said softly.

Iwaizumi was glad Oikawa was not here with him. Otherwise he would’ve punched the shit out of him.

“You’ll find someone else. What about Sienna, I know you went out a few times. Call her again and forget about me? You don’t really care about this, it’s just trust and familiarity. It will go away as soon as you meet other people.”

“Don’t tell me who I care about!” Iwaizumi snapped slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “This isn’t about Sienna or anyone else. This is about you and me- and out friendship. And if you’re not willing to talk about what happened, then this will take us down.”

“Why can’t we just forget it?” Oikawa pleaded, his voice trembling for the first time. “Please, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi went quiet again.

“You’re a fucking loser,” he said finally. His tone dry and firm. “And a coward too, Oikawa. You’re full of shit.”

Oikawa inhaled deeply. “Goodbye.” Then he hang up.

Calmly, Iwaizumi adjusted the rearview mirror, pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, and started driving toward Tristan’s.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Summer was slowly arriving. His third in the US. And only one month until graduation.

There was a lot to do. Mostly studying.

Late-night study sessions with friends- the smell of instant noodles and energy drinks, bursts of laughter echoing down the hall. Every single one of them had grown on him over the years, and now that the end was near, Iwaizumi felt heavy.

Yawning after another successful study session, he walked down the corridor toward his room.

The hallway was dim, quiet. He checked the time: 1 a.m.

Then suddenly, his phone rang loudly. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the name flash on the screen. The photo was from the beach- Oikawa covered in sand, looking irritated, mid gesture. When he looked at it he realized how long it had been until he’d seen it at last. Still, he answered.

“Oikawa?”

Oiakwa’s voice sounded unusually cheerful. „Hey, Iwa-chan, hey. How are you?”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, leaning against the cold wall at the familiar tone. “Good. Tired. It’s exams week.”

“Oh, I didn’t know! Then graduation’s coming up too, huh? I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

“I will.”

There was a pause. Neither of them said anything.

“Oh, we won the game last week.”

“Is that why you called?”

“I- no.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, already annoyed at his superficality. He’d forgotten how much of an idiot Oikawa could be. “Don’t play dumb. Something’s wrong. I’m not stupid.”

„Why would you assume that? Does a call always have to mean something bad?“

„Not the call. Your tone.“ Iwaizumi said flatly.

„Oh.“ Oikawa sounded caught off guard. „Well…” he coughed once, awkwardly, and Iwaizumi wondered what could have pushed him to call when he was clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I have news,” Oikawa announced finally, his tone unreadable.

Iwaizumi’s heart stopped for a second. “Are you coming to Japan?”

Oikawa hesitated. “Err… no.”

„Well, bad news then? Has something happened?”

„No- I-no, nothing has happened. And it’s not necessarily bad news, not really. Just… news.“

Iwaizumi paused, waiting.

„I don’t know how to say it in a more exciting way, so I’ll just say it, okay? They want me for the national team. The Argentinian national team. Can you believe it?“

„The National Team.“ Iwaizumis heart dropped a beat. He really made it. He could feel something inside him splinter, even as pride swelled in his chest. “

„Yes. Blanco says, there’s even a chance of Olympics. The Olympic, Iwa-chan for Argentina.”

„Olympics even... That‘s just wow.“ Iwiazumi stuttered. „That’s… Oikawa that’s amazing. I don’t know what to say. I’m very happy for you.”

It was everything Oikawa had ever wanted.

„I know right?“ Oikawa said, and Iwiazumi could almost see his grin through the phone. He smiled too.

„But, you know…for that, I had to have Argentinian citizenship.“

„Japan doesn‘t allow dual passports,” Iwiazumi remembered frowning. And Oikawa wasn’t the type to overlook such details. Why would he-

„I know,“ Oikawa said quietly.

“Oh.”

And then it hit him. The sudden weight in his chest. Like someone had sucked all the brightness out of the room.

„Yeah…I know.“

He exhaled slowly, until his lungs felt empty.

„To play for Argentinia I had to get an Argentinian citizenship,” Oikawa said flatly, as if summarizing to himself. “Are you mad?“

„Am I mad?“ he aped.

Of course I am, he wanted to shout. You really want to give Japan up like that?

But the truth was- he didn’t know if he even was mad. Did he have any right to be?

It was the same determination Oikawa had shown when he’d left for Argentina. It was always the end of a decision, he never mentioned it beforehand.

He’d need a visa to visit and had stopped being Japanese at all. Which was so absurd.

Because yes, japan hadn’t been good to him. Yes, things had sucked for him there- people, pressure, expectations. But did Oikawa really hate Japan enough to give it up completely.

Hadn’t he promised to come back? Somehow Oikawa still managed to read his mind.

“Hello?“ a small voice reminded him that he was still on the phone.

“Yeah, still here.”

„I know I said something different before. I didn‘t lie to you back then, it just never even occurred to me that this could happen. This wasn’t my plan. It just sort of happened. It’s a chance.“

„I know it is. It’s your dream, you deserve it.“ He paused, and then added quietly, “What about the sun? is it not too hot anymore?”

„I think I got used to it,” he finally answered.

Iwaizumi tilted his head back, trying to keep the stupid tears from falling.

„Are you mad?“ Oikawa asked again.

„No, I’m not. I mean it.” His chest hurt. “Chase it. I’ll see you at the Olympics anyway, won’t I?“

„Definitely.“ Oikawa said. „I promise.“

„Don‘t promise shit you can‘t keep,” he snapped before he could stop himself. “Sorry.”

Thankfully Oikawa turned it into a joke. „Where’s your trust in me? I, Oikawa Tooru, promise to make it to the Olympics to beat you there, Iwaizumi Hajime. I think it’s only you now who needs a plan on how to get there.”

He swallowed, forcing a small laugh. „Don’t you worry about that.”

„Alright.“

„Alright.“ Iwaizumi said, lowering the phone from his ear. „I have to go now.“

„Sure,” Oikawa replied, sounding a little sad. „I’ll call you soon.“

„Alright. Bye.“

 

The anger of an entire country was unfair and nearly impossible. But if anyone had asked him in this moment, his answer would have been clear. He hated Argentina.

Notes:

My poor baby.

Chapter 7: 2019

 

Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair. It was raining outside, but inside the coffee shop it was warm. The rain kept falling steadily, unavoidably, tapping against the window. Lazily, he took a deep sip of his black coffee before he pressed the call button.

It didn’t ring for long before someone picked up.

“Hi.”

He had to speak half loud to be heard over the lively chatter of teh people around him. He pressed the phone closer to his cheek.

“Hey,” Oikawa’s voice came softly through the speaker. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”

“I’m sitting down at the café where we went at the time when Matsu was apartment hunting here and we had to babysit,” Iwaizumi said calmly. “And I thought of you.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks for calling,” Oikawa said lightly. “I missed this.”

“I did too,” Iwaizumi andmitted truthfully. “I saw your game last weekend. You were amazing.”

“You have?” And Iwaizumi knew he grinned on the other side. “It’s great and so unbelievable stressful. The team and coach too. Tomorrow we’ll fly to Italy. God, my schedule is so full sometimes I think I have barely time to breathe.”

“Complaining on a high level.”

“Indeed.” Oikawa laughed softly, Iwaizumi could do nothing to prevent his mouth from curling in a small smile. “It’s everything, Iwa-chan. I’m doing everything I love. Sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. I don’t think I will ever get tired of this. Like ever.”

„Tooru,“ someone in the background called.

„One second, Sofia. It‘s a friend from Japan.“ It sound like he is distancing himself, and it got quieter.

“Sorry,” he said when he came back. “I’m out with friends.”

„Seeing someone?“ Iwaizumi asked lightly.

„I-no,” Oikawa sounded embarrassed. „Maybe. It’s still very new.“

“That’s great.” Iwaizumi said immediately. The last he wanted was for Oikawa to think he was mad for what had happened last year. Or that he couldn’t talk to him anymore about those things. “How is she?”

“Very funny. And pretty too. You’d like her she has the same expression of annoyance as you have when I say something mean. I met her over friends.”

“Sounds amazing.”

„Yeah… what about you?“

„No.” Iwaizumi said, taking another sip of his coffee. “No one.“

“But you sound good.”

„What do you mean?“

“I don’t know I can’t explain it. You’re steady. You sound at peace.”

Iwaizumi paused.He needed a second to suppress the lump in his throat. Oikawa was right, of course he was. Life had been very generous to him these last months. There was no room to complain. But nevertheless when he had sat down at the little cafe, an uncomfortable and sudden shiver had overcome his body. The reminder that he hadn’t thought about Oikawa for a while now. And now, speaking to him so light and friendly he knew exactly why his mind had pushed him away.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. I miss you, he wanted to say.

„My minds been busy,” he said instead.

„Is it Tokyo?“

„Yeah,” he took the opportunity. „It’s Tokyo.”

“That’s normal. It’s different. Maybe even stranger than California, you’ll need a while to settle down, find a job and friends.”

“No, not stranger than California,” he replied sharply. “It’s still Japan. It’s my home.”

For a second Oikawa was silent. And immediately he regretted saying something. 

“I’ve been here for almost six months now, you know,” he tried tone conciliatory. “The apartment search was a pain, but Matsu and Makki were helpful. It’s quite big and has nice windows overlooking the streets. Still, Tokyo is loud and full and just a lot.“

Oikawa’s voice sounded a little different than before when he spoke again, “There’s something else, isn’t there? Why you have called.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Come on. Just say what it is. I can’t look inside your head, Iwa-chan.” He chuckled and Iwaizumi closed his eyes.

There was a time, that you could.

“I have a job,” he finally said, pulling hismelf together.

“Oh? That’s went fast. Already found a team. Very good, very ambitious.” Oikawa sang approvingly.

“You won’t think so after I tell you what.”

There was a short silence in which he probably thought about what there was that he wouldn’t like. He didn’t seem to find any. “Come on! I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Iwaizumi sighed deeply, mentally preparing himself. “I’ll be athletic trainer for the men’s national team.”

“Oh, that's cool, why would I- Wait, the national team? Atheltic trainer of Japan’s national team of men’s volleyball?”

“Yeah.”

“So you're working with Tobio now?” His voice utter disbelief.

“Yeah, surprisingly.”

“What do you mean, surprisingly?” The words came out bitter.

Iwaizumi lay his coffee down at the table-he had been prepared for this.

“Every idiot knows he’s gone pro. That’s like walking into a zoo and being surprised to see animals. Come on, surprisingly?”

Yes, he had known the conversation wouldn’t be great, but a harsh reaction like this he hadn’t expected. More like a fake laugh and a half meaning congratulation, not a full outburst à la middle school Oiakwa.

“Athletic trainer of men’s volleyball team?” Oikawa repeated again. “Oh god. So Wakatoshi too, huh? You’ll train both of them? Idiotic Tobio and fucking Wakatoshi?”

“Well, that’s usually implied when you’re an athletic trainer. You train them,” Iwaizumi said coldly.

“Hajime, are you joking? Please tell me your are. I can’t wrap my head around anything you just said. Out of everything, you choose to line up with my enemies?”

That made him scoff.

„Oh yeah, right. I chose to ally with your enemies from high school because I hate you so much and my whole life revolves around you. We’ll all get you back, Tooru. It’s part of my great evil master plan.”

His voice rose-he knew he was usually quite good at handling Oikawa’s dramatics, but that was just unfair.

“That’s not what I meant, obviously! But you could have done anything. Anything else.”

“Shit could I. I’m not leaving my home country behind. What do you want me to do? Come to Argentina to be your trainer?”

Oikawa’s arrogant laugh made Iwaizumi want to punch him through the phone, “Good luck then handling Wakatoshi’s ego.”

“I’ve certainly managed yours for years,” he bit back.

“Oh, fuck you.“

“Fuck you too, then. You have no right being bothered by this. This is my life.”

“Of course I can be bothered. These are my enemies!”

“School. Rivalry. That’s normal in pro sport. It’s not like I’m being best friends with them- I just have to be professional.”

“Oh no, training them is worse than partner up with them. You chose them voluntarily and with that against me. Why can’t you at least play? You are good enough. You always were. You could be the best and we could stand on court together like old times.”

“Because this is what I want to do with my life. Being a trainer.”

“Since when?” Oikawa shot back, sharp and offensive.

“Let me think, maybe since I started to study sport science four years ago.”

There was a heavy silence. Neither of them talked.

„I can still play for fun. I keep volleyball in my life after all. But I never played in California to go pro.“

„Why didn’t you tell me before applying then?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Argentina?” The words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Wow. I knew you were mad!” Oikawa yelled. “I fucking knew it!“

“I am not mad!“ Iwaizumi snapped back. „I was making a point! Things happen and sometimes you tell people about it beforehand and sometimes you don‘t.“

Swiftly he glanced around the café. He had to watch himself so there would not be any attention pointed at him by being loud.

“What was I supposed to do? For national teams and Olympia you have to get a citizenship for the country.”

„Yes, I know national teams work. I work with one.“ Iwaizumi snapped.

“See?” Oikawa said dry, suddenly very calm. “Then you know damn well Japan would have never wanted me. Leaving was the only way to make it.”

“Get finally over it. Or are you going to switch sports the next time something gets complicated? Leaving the country hasn’t done you much good if you still can’t deal within comparison.“

“You’re being really unfair, Hajime,” Oikawa said, tone indifferent. “You‘ve got this edge of hurting people I never did. I always knew but wow, I can hate you sometimes.”

Now it was Iwaizumi to pause. This was not true, not at all. Him hurting people? All this time it was always Oikawa who had never cared, not him.

“You’re doing this all just because of what happened in California. You’re angry with me, that’s why you never called again!”

“No, you are,“ Iwaizumi snapped, childish. This was just too absurd. “I waited because you‘re you. And I appreciate every decision you make. But in the end you‘re just evil. And you know what? I hate how I‘m always the fool in this.”

„Evil? If anyone’s evil it’s you! You did an evil job kissing me back then. I swear it screwed me up forever and now I can‘t go back for anyone else. Which is insane because I’m not into boys. And I am certainly not into you!“ Oikawa hissed. „I can’t be okay? I’ve got a career to chase.” His voice softened, “This is my dream, and I really really need my best friend beside me.”

„Don’t.” Iwaizumi shook his head even though Oikawa couldn’t see it over thephone. “Fucking don‘t tell me we’re friends. You ignored me and did your thing and I’m happy for your citizenship and that your career is golden but I won’t stand here and let you tell me we’re still best friends after everything that happened. We haven’t spoken properly in a year- friends don’t to that. Be finally true to yourself, Tooru because I’m done with your fake news.”

A sharp breath sounded over, then after a moment. “I’m gonna hang up now.”

“No you’re not.” Iwaizumi warned quickly. “We are not done talking.”

“Yes, we are.”

„Toor-“

The line went dead. He had hung up. That was all he did-running away when things got complicated.

”Fuck off!”

Iwaizumi glanced around but the people around his table still laughed and chattered as if nothing had happened. Nothing had, he reminded himself. Only the faint Realisation how even fighting with Oikawa was better than no contact at all.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Iwaizumi’s twenty fifth birthday wasn’t exactly something he had looked froward too-especially not when he could imagine nothing more embarrassing than a group of loud volleyball guys singing for him at every bar they went to.

Weighing it carefully, Iwaizumi had decided not to celebrate and to let the day pass quietly.

When Hanamaki had heard about that he’d almost threw a tantrum. Eagerly he announced that a twenty-fifth birthday marked the development of the frontal lobe, making it a pretty huge deal.

Weighing that carefully, Iwaizumi decided again not to celebrate and to let the day pass quietly.

 

On Iwaizumi’s twenty fifth birthday, they were a big group of loud, embarrassing volleyball guys that night singing for him for the fifth time already.

The group contained Hanamaki and Matsukawa of course and a few other teammates as well. But what really brought a smile to his face were Tristan and James who had arrived all the way from Irvine for him. With a head shake he watched his two friends accusing each other of cheating in a drinking game. Bokuto and Hinata looked like they had the best day f their life, absorbing everything the two Americans did and said.

„Happy birthday, Iwaizumi-san.“ Atsumu straightened up and raised a toast. „To you and your great accomplishment in building our team. I hope you know my life has improved by 100% ever since you joined us. To the sexiest athletic trainer we‘ll ever have- cheers!”

„Cheers!“ the table erupted in laughter. Kiyoomi hurried his head in his hand and groaned loudly.

„I am not cheering to that,” Matsukawa muttered.

Iwaizumi grinned at him. „You better, or I‘ll make you leave this holy table and pay on your own.“

„You know what? I am cheering to that. You look damn sharp, Iwaizumi. Good build, your arms seem to grow and grow,” Hanamaki said, raising his glass and taking a sip.

And despite everything and his worry, despite the loud and embarresing guys and the amount of singing that day, Iwaizumi had the best day ever. Full fo laughter that he rarely felt so free about himself. A few beers and good company certainly helped and his head was fizzy of the alcohol.

Small groups chattered and barked in laughter, Iwaizumi watched them pleased. He noticed someone taking the place next to him. Tristan.

“What I’ve been meaning to ask you, this girl yesterday… have you asked her for her number? She seemed interested in you. I thought that If you have, you could ask about her friend for me.”

“I thought you were going out with Sienna?”

Tristan waved him off. “She’s thinks I’m boring and a softie.”

“You think so?”

He groaned. “She’s said so.”

Iwaizumi grinned. “Poor you. She is nice, I could see you two together.”

Tristan threw his head back in his neck as he barked out a laugh. “Easy talking. It’s not like you ever had real interest in her. Had you?”

“No.” Iwaizumi admitted.

“The boy from home then?”

Iwaizumi looked up, challenging Tristan with his gaze. “Also no,” he said sharply.

He wished Tristan would say something but he didn’t. He only watched him. That nagging gaze of someone who knew. Someone you can’t fool.

”What?” He asked demanding. 

“Someone else will come, Hajime. There are multiple people that suit you. There is never just one.”

Someone else will come.

“I’m not interested in dating,” Iwaizumi reminded him a little too loud.

Immediately Atsumu clapped his flat hand on the table. “You never tell us anything! I don’t even know what your type is, while I tell you everything!”

“Sounds like a you problem, Miya,” Kiyoomi countered. “Not everyone wants to brag about how many girls they’ve shagged.”

Atsumu glared at him. “Well, at least I have something to brag about, Sakusa.”

Matsukawa grinned at the usual treatment of the two, arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Trust me. A closed book. He’s never told us anything. One day, he’ll come back married and won’t have told us anything.”

“Unlikely,” Iwaizumi commented dryly.

But it was true. So much he could see. While everyone else talked about his love life, Iwaizumi remained quiet like a stone. He didn’t talk about his life- and his dating life even less.

Sakusa and Atusmu had launched into a verbal fight across the table. Wakatoshi sat in silence, having to listen to Bokuto chat nonstop at him. Akashi, sitting opposite, cast a sympathetic glance his way. Iwaizumi watched them closely. Everyone was tehre- his team, friends. His people. A community of all the people he eventually had to deal with daily and who emanates something to him. Under those thoughts his heart began to swell up.

He felt an elbow hab him in the stomach.

“Oww!”

Hanamaki leaned a little toward him so no one else could hear, “I’m also disappointed.”

“What are you talking about?” Iwaizumi said, rubbing the sore spot. But Makki continued undeterred. “He should be here with us.”                    

They let the moment of silence carry on before Iwaizumi met his gaze hard.

“I am glad he is not.”

“Still,” he said, leaning back as he laid down his chopsticks. “He should be.“

Iwaizumi scoffed helplessly. “Ask him to come back, then.”

Hanamaki made a grimace. „It‘s Oikawa.“

„It’s Oikawa,” Iwaizumi confirmed.

The evening carried on and Atsumu suggested to go to a different location. His phone beeped on the way out. ‘I am calling you in an hour’, the message said.

The next bar was karaoke, and with that came an absolute nightmare for Iwaizumi. Groaning and yelling, he tried to make his way back to his seat while Tristan and James dragged him onto the stage.

When suddenly a phone was handed over to him. His phone. Ushijima handed him his phone. He hadn’t even heard it beeping.

„Someone’s calling.“

Iwaizumi took it and saw that stupid picture he had taken of Oiakwa covered in sand when he had visited California. Somehow even after all this time, he had never changed it.

„Yes,” Iwiazumi said, trying to hide the name. “I think should get that call.“

„Yes. You should,” Ushijima nodded.

Iwaizumi freed himself from the arms holding him down and walked outside, where it was quieter.

„It’s not my birthday anymore,” he said as he answered the phone. Indeed it was 00:26.

A low chuckle came from the other side of the line. „Here it is.“ He could see Oikawa smile through the phone.

„That doesn’t count- I’m not there.“

„I am, so it does,“ Oikawa said confidently. „Happy birthday, Iwa-chan.”

„Thanks,“ Iwaizumi said, letting himself sink on an empty bench.

He was glad that Oikawa kept calling him by that stupid nickname. An offer to the their last conversation lay in the past.

“Tobio-chan there too?”

“No.” Iwaizumi traced the grooves of the bench with his finger. “But Ushijima is, if that would be your next question.”

“Nope, you got me all wrong. I wouldn’t have asked that. But just so you know, Wakatoshi and Iwaizumi doesn’t sound as lethal as Oikawa and Iwiazumi. You should rethink that.”

“I know that you’re being a child.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Oikawa chuckled again. “Makki and Matsu there too?”

“Sure. Guess who dragged me here.”

“Oh, is that past grandpa Iwa-chans bed time?”

“Fuck off, Loserkawa. I know your in bed by 10 pm too.”

Oikawa’s laugh sounded bright from the other side-twelves hours apart and still they spoke to each other just in time. It was similar to when Iwaizumi had still been in Japan. Iwaizumi was going to bed; Oikawa was staring his day.

„Tell them I said hi. Haven’t spoken to them in forever,” Oikawa said again. “You should all come to Argentina if you’re free.“

Iwaizumi closed his eyes. He always said things like that.

„You know we are not free.”

„But if,” Oikawa pledged. And Iwaizumi suppressed a sigh.

„Why don’t you come instead?“ Iwaizumi teased, saying something he had never clearly said like that. “Three people vs one. Only fair.”

„Duh.“ Oiakwa made defeated. For another moment it looked like he would say more, but he didn’t continue.

„Hold on-„ he mumbled something to someone approaching him. Iwaizumi heard the other person laugh.

Iwaizumi frowned. „Who-“ he began but he was interrupted.

„Sorry, I have to go. Been taking a break from training. Frankie wants me to toss to him before I have to go back. There will be another campaigne, by the way.”

“A campaign?”

“Yeah, about sports clothes and stuff… life’s been good to me lately. Who would have known everything would turn out eventually great for me?”

I knew, Iwaizumi wanted to say.

“Dipshit,” he muttered instead.

“This American slang is not looking good on you,” Oikawa huffed.

„Your lucky Argentina even wanted you,” Iwaizumi snapped back.

Oikawa laughed for real this time, “Oh, Iwa-chan.”

That was all he said. Oh, Iwa-chan.

And Iwaizumi… Iwaizumi could see his face right before his eyes. How his hazel eyes wrinkled when he smiled, how his picture-perfect smile was the only thing he’d never be bored to look at. White teeth, styled hair, soft skin, contoured muscles, a deep frown in concentration.

He missed to see him set a ball. He missed to see Oikawa play volleyball and see that look of concentration. But most of all he missed his undefined attention. Hazel eyes watching every breath he took and every step he made.

He thought about how much they had grown over the distance. It was strange. They were becoming unfamiliar their new life’s didn’t suit each other annymore and yet, the past had them more familiar than every distance.

„You should go,“ he said, trying for something mindful or funny but comping up blank, so he left it at, „Take care.“

„You too, Iwa-chan. It was nice talking to you, I wish you a nice birthday. Don’t be a stranger.”

Iwaizumi chewed the insides of his mouth until they felt raw. „It’s not my birthday anymore.”

“Here it is.”

Despite his wish that it could have lasted longer, he was certain Oikawa had done the right thing by not letting it carry. The early ending had been necessary for it to remain good.

 

Even later he realized that he had it all wrong before. The light surrounding Oikawa hadn’t moved forward to leave him in the dark, as he had once believed. No, Oikawa had never really left; he was still there, grinning back at him, encouraging him to follow. Only now, it seemed Oikawa’s brightness threatened to blind him along the way, confusing him until he didn’t know where to go.

Oikawa in Argentina. Iwaizumi in Japan. Whenever one tried to call the other he would be either asleep or at training. Until even twelve hours apart couldn’t create any missed calls anymore.

 

Notes:

Hi,
I have no idea it the time aligns to be honest. I could find multiple birth years of Iwaizumi so I chose to take the one that makes sense with my story.
Anyways, I tried. Please don't be too harsh to me.
Love as always
-ServerX

Chapter 8: 2020

 

The sound of the alarm clock become a well-made friend by now.

While some people preferred to be woken up by calm birds, he preferred it the hard and noisy way- a loud ringing that made you jump out of sleep. At least it made him turn it off quickly and force hismelf to get up.

The air in Tokyo was covered with frost. It was cold when Iwiazumi looked out into the empty street. The sun hadn’t risen yet. Still he took his usual route, toward a nearby patch of forest and then back on the street again.

It was calm. Everything was. the birds weren’t awake yet, and the cold air filled his lungs painfully. Hopefully, spring would get warmer soon. No one was there. Except-someone was.

Already on his way back, something broke the silence: The sound of footsteps struck against the earth.

They were coming, fast.

He inhaled deeply. In a strange rush of pride, he sped up, making sure the person stayed behind him.

But the steps came closer. He pushed harder, but he was already tired, had covered a long stretch, and was nearly home.

The steps came closer still, until someone overtook him from the side- a slim, athetic boy with dark skin and black curly hair, orange shoes, and headphones covering his ears. He passed him effortlessly, not even glancing his way.

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw and picked up speed again. He was fast-almost had him-but the other guy was faster.

It didn’t take long before they were racing side by side, a real head-to-head sprint. his lungs burned; his body screamed to stop. He had already run past his apartment far behind, but the other guy didn’t look like he planned to stop anytime soon. Iwaizumi glanced sideways, but the other boy didn’t took any notice in him. Yet sweat covered his forehead, but his strides stayed light.

Then the guy suddenly pulled ahead. Cars were already rolling by, Tokyo waking up again. But still, Iwaizumi heard the boy call back to him.

“Not bad- but try better next time.”

Shaking, Iwaizumi finally stopped. His legs trembled, his chest heaved restlessly. He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees. The urge to throw up hit him, but he pushed it down as he watched orange shoes disappear down the street.

Slowly he turned around and walked home.

The rest of the day, his legs felt sore. He came late to practice, but the coach only nodded- silent trust.

During practice, his mind was blank as he followed his team’s movements across court with his eyes.

Miya’s concentrated face and his precise tosses to Sakusa were incredible. As well as Hinata’s high jumps and the hard slap of Bokuto’s hits.

His team was wonderful.

But most of all, his team had fun playing. No matter how hard they pushed he could always see a smile at the end of practice.

It didn’t take long until Miya and Sakusa were at each other’s throat again. They had this special thing: in a game they work perfectly well together, but in between it was like the devil possessed their bodies.

Sakusa snarled at Miya, who had to be held back by Wakatoshi.

This idiots were his life. He barely spent time with anyone else but them-every day, all day. From early mornings until late afternoon. At night he watched games and made notes. His life was full, busy and wonderful.

Iwaizumi was sure of it- he would never get tired of this. This was his life. And he loved every second of it it.

And still, he thought about Tristan’s words more often than he should.

Someone else will come.

Couch clapped his hands and Iwaizumi glanced at his watch. He would have to cook something once he was home. Tired as he was he stretched. Something in his upper back hurt.

The light inside his apartment was dark as he opened the door. It was tidy-he was often out and still hadn’t had time to unpack his suitcase. They had come back from Peking almost a week ago. The pain in his back wouldn’t leave even as he skipped dinner and let himself fall into bed, it was cold and he slept restlessly.

 

 

°°°

 

 

The cool morning air felt good on Iwaizumi’s face. Deeply he breathed in, then out.

It was just like last time-footsteps creeping up behind him, ready to overtake him.

Iwaizumi ran as fast as possible but it didn’t take long before he began to fall behind. He looked to the side. orange shoes paced past him, restlessly, but their eyes met. And the look in those brown eyes-competitive, sharp-felt familiar somehow.

Panting, Iwaizumi stopped and leaned weakly against a lamppost, glaring up in irritation.

The man in front of him had stopped too. He turned around and jogged the few steps back. He was a little shorter, but not by much.

And Iwaizumi had to admit, he was good-looking.

An athletic body, at least as far as one could tell through the long clothes. A slim face, light stubble, a straight nose, a dark mustache and a darker skin.

“Don’t worry,” the boy grinned. “I’m a marathon runner.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Iwaizumi wheezed.

Now it all made sense. A cheater.

“You need to on your weight distribution. Do you often have back pain? Could be from the way you run.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“Let’s jog together tomorrow.”

“No.”

The guy actually looked surprised when he rose an eyebrow. “Why not? Not a good loser?”

“I’m a very good loser. I just don’t think loosing to a marathon runner counts,” Iwaizumi shot back.

“I wonder if the frown of yours can sink even deeper.”

The boy’s smile grew.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m joking. You’re intimidating.” He commented with a head tilt. “I give you that. Unfortunately that won’t work for me. I got an older brother and his friends always made me eat my socks. I’m not kidding.”

Iwaizumi paused. Undecided what to say.

“I’m not intimidating,” he muttered.

“You have no idea what effect you have on people, do you?”

“And you know what effect you have on people?”

Again, the boy’s smile grew challenging. “You tell me.”

“Are you always this chill?”

“Yeah. It’s great. It’s called being lively. I’m Sirisai Krit by the way. What’s yours?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Get a drink with me, Hajime.”

“I gotta go.”

“Fair enough. I’d also be pissed after loosing. See you tomorrow, then,” he called out with a casual wave as Iwaizumi turned around leaving.

He could feel eyes pinned against his back, and under all the annoyance and confusion, it felt good having the upper hand in this.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Despite everything and despair his busy schedule, Krit managed to convince Iwaizumi for a drink almost two weeks later.

It turned out, when they weren’t competing, Krit was actually a great conversation partner. Slowly, it became a bit of a habit to go for a drink or two after practice.

He learned a lot about him. His mother was from Thailand and both his parents still lived there. He had studied mechanical engineering in Tokyo and decided to stay after. His sister had followed him shortly after and both of them had chosen to return to sports.

It was easy talking to him; they rarely sat in silence. And Iwaizumi liked the feeling of being wanted.

he saw it in the way Krit listend to him, in the way he teased him or the softness he looked at him. He noticed it all, yet he didn’t say anything.

Iwaizumi invited him to a game. And when the team went for dinner after at Onigiri Miya, he came along. Some curious gazes lingered on him, but Krit was a master at ignoring things. He enjoyed the evening. Every now and then Iwaizumi glanced over, but Krit never sat in uncomfortable silence. Instead, he was eagerly talking to his friends.

When he caught Matsukawa’s gaze, he held up a silent thumbs-up, grinning.

Someone else will come.

Maybe he was someone else.

Yes, he liked him, he kept thinking on the way home. Tokyo was still busy and the streets loud. It was nice, and he didn’t want the evening to end so soon. So when they reached his apartment, Iwaizumi didn’t hesitate long before inviting him in.

He couldn’t even turn around after opening the door-because Kit was all over him. hands on his waist, pulling him in by the chin, kissing him.

For a second he was stunned under the touch, but eventually he kissed him back.

For a splint second his mind drifted to Oikawa, to how he had felt under his touch all those years ago. That one week he anlways returned to when the night came. Every day, every touch. Every smile burned into his memory, engraved on the backside of his eyelids. He had wished him back more times than he could count.

The kiss deepened softly. The smell of herb mint gum.

Because maybe he hadn’t gotten it all wrong. Maybe he had been obsessed with Oikawa simply because Oikawa had been his first boy-kiss. Maybe it’s as never about him but about a boy and now kissing another one he could finally free from him.

And now, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was kissing someone he did not wish to be Oikawa Tooru.

The way he pressed Krit, firm angainst the wall. His fingers dug into his short hair, pulling sharply. A smile was all he got back in response. That bright, sunny smile he loved-the slightly crooked teeth, the warmth of it.

He had always liked a pretty smile.

“What?”

“You’re…” Krit paused, searching for words. And Iwiazumi had to agree everything was so unreal. “You’re unbelievable.”

Destinied Iwaizumi cupped the back of his head and pulled him back in. “You’re too.”

“Listen closely. You’re the athletic trainer of men’s volleyball team. I’d be a fool to let you go.”

“Glad to know my job is all you’re here for.” Iwaizumi groaned, biting his lips hard enough to make the other hiss.

“Not the only reason,” Krit said softly, kissing him again.

No, he would never go back to kissing girls.

It was almost 1 a.m. when Iwaizumi made his way through the calm night to the store on the corner. The stars lighting the sky were rare in Tokyo, underlining the strangely lifted feeling by leftover emotions from the night.

Searching the store, he grabbed a few water bottled. On his way to the register, something caught his eye.

ARGENTINIAN STAR PLAYER - FINALLY ENGAGED!

The magazine headline announced. On the front page a huge picture of Oikawa with a brunette girl in his arms. A big engagement ring was printed between them, shining as it it were the headline itself.

He opened the magazine and started reading somewhere in the middle of the interview.

 

I: “Congratulations on your engagement. Now that you’ve found your love. I have a really bad question: What was your first heart break?”

O: „My first heart break? Volleyball, definitely.“

I: „Care to share?“

O: „Okay, but watch out, it’ll get really cheesy. So, it’s easy to say that Volleyball was my first love. Back then when I grew up and I first got into it, it became more and more a thing people associate me with. When I met distant relatives, the first question woudl be, “Hey Tooru, still up to volleyball?” It was the one thing I was destined to work hard with no matter what it would take. I think it caused most of the arguments I had with my parents. I fought with them multiple times about not concentrating on schoolwork or friends outside sports. My first girlfriend even broke up with me because she got annoyed with how obsesses I was, which became its own little heartbreak.”

I: *laughs* “I bet she wished she stayed now.”

O: *grins* “I think she was right to do so. I missed multiple birthday parties of my old classmates-while they grew closer, I stayed in the gym. It was fine until someone else came along. And I could feel the heads turning to him and the attention shifting. Someone younger and better showed up with the same look in his eyes, the same hunger to win as me, but with so much more talent. For every five hours it took me to perfect my serve it took him two. Slowly, the irrational thought came that maybe I shouldn’t have chosen volleyball-because volleyball had chosen someone else.”

 

“Hey, if you want to read it, buy it,” the shop owner called out unpleasantly.

Iwaizumi didn’t read further.

But then his eyes caught a small picture in the left corner. Just a tiny picture of Oikawa sitting in the driver’s seat of a car, easy to miss.

It was a fucking Mercedes Benz 230 in dark green. The one Iwaizumi had always wanted.

The cold air of the night didn’t really cool his face off. His mind racing and his hands shaking as he walked back to his apartment.

The feeling was only temporary, he reminded himself. It was just the universe’s way to mess with him.

And still, the article didn’t leave his mind. He had put it so neatly into words. It was almost as of this was the core of Oikawa Tooru.

This great heartbreak of his life- everything that came after, all the losses, all the chocked-felt like a butterfly effect starting right there. The feeling that volleyball had fallen in love with someone else.

Out of nowhere, Iwaizumi thought about calling him.

But he dismissed the idea immediately. Why would he? There was nothing he wanted to say, nothing left to talk about.

The blanket was heavy as he heaved it up, a warm body welcomed him back and his thoughts were shut down.

 

It came to his mind long after that day that, despite Oikawa crossing his thoughts twice that day, he hadn’t thought about him in a long time before it. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember the exact moment he thought of him again afterward.

 

Notes:

Hey, I’m back again!
Hope you had fun- or not. It’s quite depressing lately, I admit. Anyways, feel free to comment I always appreciate it.
-ServerX

Chapter 9: 2021

 

A whistle blew, and the game ended. Iwiazumi stood completely still while everyone around him already erupted into cheers.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened: they had actually beaten France, meaning they would play Argentina tomorrow in the 2021 Olympic final in Tokyo.

A final in their home country- was there anything more legendary?

“Don’t stay up too long,” Iwaizumi warned on the way home.

But back in bed he couldn’t even take his own advice. Annoyed of the rustling of his mind he picked up his phone.

He had ignored it the entire day, and now the notifications flooded the screen.

Many people wished him luck for tomorrow. Tristan was angry that he couldn’t make it. His sister texted that she and their parents woudl watch every second on TV. Friends and relatives- they all though of him.

krit’s message was at the top: ‘Sorry again I wasn’t there today. But I’m so excited for tomorrow. Can’t wait to see us win!’

Iwaizumi smiled as he scrolled down. Then something else appeared, a missed call.

He froze. Staring at the notification for a long time- at the picture of Oikawa on the beach. He was on the edge of pressing it to call him back when he paused.

No, he wouldn’t.

 

°°°

 

They had played in the hall for weeks now, so they were used to it, but today was the grand final, so it felt different. Enourmous.

Nevertheless was Iwaizumi in a good mood when he woke. He had slept well although not much. Everything would work out today. It would go according to plan and nothing would keep him from this day and his full concentration for what was coming.

They were going to beat Argentina’s asses.

Bokuto roared with confidence in the air. Yaku was in top form as he ran. Ushijima hammered one ball after another in with relentless force. Sakusa hadn’t spoken all day, but that was normal-it was simply his way of concentrating.

Hinata smiled nonestop as he jumped high in the air hitting Kageyama’s precise tosses.

Iwaizumi’s gaze lingered on the unlikely duo.

They had lost each other after school, and yet they were here again, on the same side. Everything had led them to this moment. Suddenly his stomach tightened. Something crawled up from inside him, and Iwaizumi knew exactly what it was: the bitter taste of jealousy and regret.

It wasn’t about having a lover. It was about having his person on court. Someone he could rely on. Someone who would toss the perfect ball just for him. Someone’s full attention on him.

A bright laughter rang out through the wild applause of fans as the Argentinian players entered the hall.

Blue jerseys for Argentina-obviously. Still, it made Iwaizumi suppress a grin. Maybe that’s why he left, he thought ironically. Oikawa had always liked himself in blue.

Argentina was in top form as the game went on. They fought for every single point. But Japan did too-the attacks hit, the blocks held. Point by point, both teams fought their way toward the top.

Iwaizumi was a wreck, nerves shot, as he watched the heavy panting on court, all the sweat, all the raw desire to keep playing. To win.

His team was all he focused on, and yet, every now and then, he noticed his eyes lingering a second too long on Oikawa even when he didn’t have the ball.

He looked so unbearably happy and alive- this was what he was made for. The world needed to see him. Argentina did a good job taking care of him, he decided.

The fun had faded, replaced by nothing but the desperate want to win on both sides.

“And of all people, Oikawa Tooru has the serve again-can you believe it!” he heard a commentator shout somewhere behind him.

This could be Argentina’s match point.

Iwaizumi felt like he might throw up as Oikawa’s head turned all of the sudden, and their eyes met. He grinned at him through the crowd.

Nothing of Oiakwa reminded Iwiazumi of his lifelong friend and yet everything did. The person he knew best. The few days in California. It was all still there.

And Iwaizumi hated how easy it was again. He doubted himself again-

He hated him. He hated him and he couldn’t look away.

Oikawa served and Yaku received it beautifully, just so Kageyama could set Hinata. Hinata soared and hit nicely. The ball flew and flew but Oikawa pushed the ball in himself like it was nothing.

“Oikawa Tooru did it! Argentina has won the Olympics in Japan!” the commentator yelled over and over.

Like the air was made of fog, he watched Argentina line up to greet Japan.

They were the last to meet. And a broad hand reached out to him.

“A good team you have there, Iwa-chan. Maybe next time it‘ll help you to win.” Oikawa smiled panting, sweaty hand closing hard aroudn his. With his free hand he clapped Iwaizumi’s bicep. It was strange how familiar that felt.

“You‘ve outdone yourself today,” Iwaizumi said firm but a honest smile formed on his lips. „It seems you’re still the absolute best setter.“

A flicker of surprise crossed Oiakwa’S face. His eyes shone bright and uncertain. A linger of sadness.

There it was again. That gaze from the serve. Only worse now, because Iwaizumi could finally see it clearly.

It was expectant.

Iwaizumi went ice-cold.

Because it would be unfair to say it. Not here. Not now.

He was being so fucking unfair right now. So unfair to look at him like that, openly, almost longing. While his girlfriend cheered for him. While his boyfriend sat somewhere in the crowd. While his whole life flourished without him.

“Hajime-“

And as much as Iwaizumi would have given anything to hear what he would have said rationality finally settled in.

He let Oikawa’s hand go like it was burning fire.

The crowd moved and Oikawa turned away, back to his team. And Iwaizumi went up the aisle to Krit, who pulled him into a tight hug. He leaned back lazily grinning from ear to ear at Iwaizumi.

“You were amazing.”

“I didn’t even play,” he frowned.

“Didn’t need to.” Pulling him back into another hug. While Iwaizumi still had the smell of herb deodorant in his nose.

The walk home was long.

“I can’t understand how Ushijima missed that last point,” Iwiazumi muttered. “It really wasn’t difficult, and number 6 looked like he was having a bad day anyway. I don’t know how-“

“Yeah, seems odd.”

“And did you see number 3?”

“Err.. not really.”

“He looked ready to spike. I wonder how they adjusted to that rotation. Remind me to look it up later.”

“You’re done working for today, aren’t you?” Krit asked alarmed.

“Not yet,” Iwaizumi said distantly. “I want to watch the last game of-“

“Can we talk about something else now?”

Iwaizumi frowned, stopping mid sentence.

Their relationship made sense- Krit easy and light and Iwaizumi steady and analytical.

And yet it was moments like this where he felt misunderstood. He wasn’t done talking. He needed to process and he needed to think about it and everything else.

“A full day, huh?” Krit said. “Now you can have enough of all of that. Let it rest.”

Iwaizumi stayed silent.

 

 

It might be this day, Iwaizumi had decided. Where he had chosen against Oikawa and for Krit, ready for a new life and a new love.

And it might have been in this exact moment, he had realized what Krit needed, and that he could never be the one fulfilling this need. Yet, giving up was not on Iwaizumi’s agenda. 

 

Chapter 10: 2022 Part I

 

“All this time and I’m still unemployed!” Matsukawa sighed dramatically before Iwaizumi could even sit down at the red bench of his favorite pub.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed.

“Makki is also a terrible friend as well. Why do my best friends hate me?”

Hanamaki ignored him, by typing on his phone. Ever since he had gotten a girlfriend he seemed busier than ever.

“You’re all so productive. What about me? I feel so useless now.”

It didn’t matter how exhausted he was from a long day, his friends always rose his mood within seconds. A small smile crept onto his face. “You’ll find your way,” he said gentle, tappig Matsukawa’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck you.”

Laughing, Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair. “I’m serious. What’s about this nonesense you’re drowning in self-pity all day? Losing a job you hated should be a reason to celebrate. Give it a break and drink your beer.”

“Cheers to that!” Hanamaki chimed in who had apparently gained his hearing back.

Iwaizumi glanced at his phone. Tristan had sent pictures from last week during his visit. It had been good, seeing his old college friends again.For a week he’d forgotten about Japan and dipped back into sunny California. He’d missed the beach, and the long nights out more than he would like to admit.

“How’s preparation going?” Hanamaki asked, forcing him to look up again.

“Good,” he said shortly. Typing a quick response before he set his phone aside. “We’re on a good schedule. But it’s still busy as hell. Tomorrow it’s going to Italy, god knows how the boys will manage.” He explained furthermore.

Since returning from his vacation, the workload had hit him twice as hard. They had to prepare for next year’s Olympics qualifiers-plus international games for the championship in between.

They talked a little about his team but when Hanamaki glanced at his phone for the third time Iwaizumi paused.

“How are things going with Imiki?”

A pair of brown eyes began to glisten. “Good that you ask, Iwa. Since Matsu completely forgot about me while complaining about his life.”

“Excuse me? I am jobless and broke!”

“And I don’t care!” Hanamaki shook his head to himself turning hs body toward Iwaizumi. “Anyway, she’s amazing! We’ve been planning for a world trip. Two income and no kids is truly a blessing.”

Matsukawa cried even louder and Iwiazumi flicked him on the head. Hanamaki poured more alcohol for them all.

 

“You’re late,” Krit said as Iwaizumi closed the front door behind him quietly.

“You’re awake,” he noticed surprised, setting his bag down.

“You’re late. I was waiting.”

Iwaizumi walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. “I am sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Where have you been?”

“Out with friends.”

Krit didn’t respond.

Heavy Iwaizumi leaned sideways against the counter, trying to hide how tipsy he was. The cold water helped. The cold water helped.

“What?” He asked, glass between his lips.

Krit’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“You’re always at work until late, and even later you’re out with your friends.”

“It’s not like I’m out every day. I barely see them.”

“I barely see you too. We don’t do anything anymore.”

“Yes we do,” Iwaizumi frowned. “I see you nearly everyday at home.”

“Exept when you’re not home and off on another trip.” His gaze drifted to the half-packed suitcase. He had not unpacked it from Irvine since he was leaving tomorrow again from Italy.

“See that’s the problem.” Krit continued, sitting down on a chair. Only now he saw how tired his brown eyes looked and how damp his hair was. “I don’t want to be your house wife or something like that. You’re gone first in the morning and you’re back later than I am.”

“I just have a busy schedule. The qualifiers are coming up and-“

“I know.” Krit interrrupted him harshly. “I know, okay? It’s just… volleyball takes up a huge part in your life.”

To that Iwaizumi couldn’t argue.

“You need to balance it out more. I sometimes wish you’d exist without it!”

“But I don’t,” Iwaizumi snapped suddenly. “I like my life. I like waking up early and going to the gym. I like working late, watching game. I like going on trips with my team. I like seeing friends once a week and seeing you at home.”

They’d had arguments like this before but somehow this one felt heavier. Alcohol was buzzing unpleasantly in his head, filling up space. He wanted to sleep. This wasn’t the right time.

“What about me, then?”

“I also like you,” he cut in and immediately realised his mistake when he saw the shocked expression. “Love you.Obviously. I- sorry. You know how I meant it. I love you and I want you in my life.”

Somewhere it had began to rain. And for a moment the only sound in the apartment was the quiet drumming on the window.

“I don’t want to be your second priority. I need to be your first.”

This was unfair, he decided. Attacking him now, when he was tired, tipsy, unable to defend himself properly.

“I am going back to Thailand for a while. To my family.”

His heart stopped. “I don’t do distance well.” Iwiazumi said, avoiding his gaze.

“I know.” Krit paused. “I don’t either.”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped up. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’m taking away your decision.”

 

The walk through the rain was colder than expected. He didn’t feel anger or frustration, even the exhaustion had vanished. Leaving place for nothing else but numbness. He stopped at the corner shop, stepped inside and grabbed a coke while planing his next move.

His gaze shifted to the magazines and a Deja vu washed over him. A picture of Oikawa covering the front page of one of them.

OIKAWA TORU: INJURY FORCES HIM TO QUIT?

This time Iwaizumi bought the magazine and took it with him. It felt like the universe was sending him a sign-some doors close, others open. He didnt know what he was doing, but on the walk to Hanamaki’s apartment, he called him.

Just once.

When there was no answer, he typed a message: ‘Call me.’

Hanamaki had silently pressed him the keys into his hand and left to go over to Imiki’s. No questions and Iwaizumi was glad.

He took a long shower, then he sat on the couch and for the first time in a long time he simply did nothing. The suitcase stood unmoved in the hallway.

And then he cried, for no one but himself.

 

 

°°°

 

 

Oikawa didn‘t call back that night. On the way to the airport the next day he checked every minute, then again after the landing. It was fine, he decided. He would call the next day.

Expect he didn’t. Not the next day and not a week after. Two weeks later with still no notification, he finally gave up waiting and carried on with his life.

Thankfully the constant pace of practice and games left no room for thinking. Every day was full he barely had time to sleep. He didn’t thought about Oikawa and he didn’t thought about Krit anymore. Volleyball had demanded that he shit everything else out. He still enjoyed it. It was just that every now and then in a rare moment of silence, he remembered Krit’s words bitter:

“You need to balance it out more. I sometimes wish you’d exist without it!”

Iwaizumi had gone back to his hotel room drunk and happy while they’d won their last game in Monaco when he got the call a months later.

Half asleep, he reached for the phone without even looking. He expected Tristan, who must have forgotten the time difference.

„Hajime.“

And in the way his full name was spoken, everything lay bare.

„Who is this?“ he said, though he already knew.

There was no chuckle, just a weight of regret in the voice. „Has it really been that long?“

Oikawa didn’t sound like himself. There was no chirpiness, no lightness. He wasn’t angry or sad he sounded painfully sober, as if all the life had been drained from him. Like the latter he had always walked up high, had cracked and made him fall back into reality. Making them now speak again on equal ground.

“I called.”

“I know. I thought you would again,” he sounded hoarse and coughed once. Maybe the painkillers had made his throat dry.

“I didn‘t want to take your time away. I figured you’d be busy.”

„Yeah. Busy,“ Oikawa scoffed, „Busy getting that hospital food down without throwing up.“

„That bad?“

„You can‘t imagine.“

„Are you still in the hospital?”

„Yeah. I am alone most of the time even though Sofia comes every day.”

„That‘s good to hear.“ Iwaizumi said against every nagging sting in his jaw.

„Yeah, she‘s amazing. I don’t let the team come in. Not a single one. I can’t take it”

There was a pause. He held his breath to stop him from asking why he had called.

Then there is a muffled cry at the end of the line, and his heart clenched as the throb in his throat began.

„I wish I never went to Argentinia,” Oikawa’s voice sounded over thin and quiet.

And Iwaizumi said nothing for a long time. Just let him cry. Didn’t say anything because he was too afraid he’d say something wrong. It was the first time Oikawa opened up to him like that. He had never let him close or talked to him about anything that bothered him. And now, just like that, he’d got the privilege after all these years.

“It took everything from me,” Oikawa pressed between a snort.

„You may not remember, but you said the same about Japan.“

„This is different. Who cares about damn nationals or Tobio. This is… everything.“ Oikawa took a deep breath. „I can‘t play anymore. Meniscus tear. The doctor said I can be lucky to run again without lumping.”

Iwaizumi sat down at the edge of the bed. He had a good look outside the window. Only a few two walked by at this time. He thought it was funny in a way, how he could see them but they would never know he was watching them from his window. They’d also never know the gravity of this conversation. If only they knew he was on the other line with Argentina.

A sniff. „I shouldn’t have gone. You knew me better than anyone, so why didn‘t you stop me?”

Iwaizumi stayed silent. He had wished to hear this many many times. But now it just felt wrong.

„Tell me. Tell me, I didn’t fuck it all up because I left. If I hadn’t gone I could still play in Japan with you, and maybe you would have gone pro and we’d still be close and… and-„ he stopped. „Tell me you didn’t screw up becoming pro because of me.“

They had grown older now. But their arguments had never changed. He still had to convince Oikawa about things he worried too much.

„I love my job.“ Iwaizumi said serious. „I would have become an athletic trainer nevertheless, even if you had stayed. You did good choosing Argentina, and you deserve a country that chooses you back. And it has. Japan didn‘t need three setters. You won the Olympics for fucks sake. You’ve outdone yourself! This injury is not the fault of any country this is only… this is only life, you see. It could have happened anywhere.“

„I was so scared of failing my career that I pushed you away, when things tended to get too good. And now it was all for nothing! I ignored myself, and now it has got me back for it.“

Iwaizumi exhaled, his tone shaky. „What are you talking about?“

Oikawa hesitated.

„I miss you, Hajime,“ he finally said. „And I am sorry, for everything. But you lied to me too back then! You lied when you said I’d be the only guy you’d anything!”

Iwaizumi‘s heart beat faster. He thought about Krit and his chest clenched. He thought about the Olympics and how Oikawa had watched him kiss his boyfriend.

He didn’t have the same feelings for Oikawa he had years ago. He had loved Krit, really. But he also knew that no one ever had been cured from the spell Oikawa Tooru cast on someone.

“At the time it really felt like it,” Iwaizumi said truthfully.

„Mum wants me close to her now.”

It was a sudden topic change, but Iwaizumi could only feel grateful for that.

“She thinks I need to stay close to family now, I don‘t know if I can without… I think I need a friend along the way.”

“What are you saying?”

He sounded hesitant, like he didn’t really want to say the next part. „I called because I wanted to ask for a favor. Can you pick me up from the airport in Tokyo next week?“

Iwaizumi closed his eyes. Slowly he let his body drop back into the soft sheets of his hotel bed.

„I made a promise back then, didn‘t I?“

„Yeah, I suppose you did.“

 

He hadn’t say so that night, but he had had the feeling that Oikawa had been relieved by his reaction. Iwaizumi, however, hadn’t been able to imagine any reason why he should been angry with him. This had been more than he would have ever dared to ask for. Far too much time had passed to hold a grudge over anything.

Oikawa seemed to think so too.

 

Notes:

Sorry for the injury arc!! I don’t like writing about it either but it just made sense for the story. It gets better <3

Chapter 11: 2022 Part II

Side note: This is where the prologue sets in. Everything happening from now on takes place afterwards.

 

“If this isn’t Mr. Argentina.” Matsukawa stood in the doorframe with both arms stretched out, as he took a step forward grinning toward Oikawa.

Who wore a grey sweater and back training pants, the same ones he had worn since he’d arrived. He had the hood up-outside it made sense, he went more unnoticed that way. But even here, in the protecting walls of Iwaizumi’s apartment, he still wore it.

The knuckles grabbing the crutches turned white. Oikawa looked startled and Iwaizumi noticed the tiny step backwards.

But Matsukawa had already wrapped him softly in his arms. A little stiff, Oikawa shifted his crutches into one hand and placed the other around his old friend.

He murmured something and Oikawa nodded shortly.

Behind him Hanamaki pushed his friend away.

„No way, Oikawa Tooru? Como estas?“ Hanamaki yelled, pressing Oikawa into another brotherly hug. “May I have an autograph?”

Iwaizumi noticed h he also let that happen. Iwaizumi had not told him about the sudden visit. Yesterday he had picked him up from the airport and ever since, Oikawa had not talked to him much.

„Hello. Can you talk?” Hanamaki tilted his head. “Iwa what is with him, has he stopped talking in general or is he better in Russian now?“

„Sorry,” Oikawa finally said, loosening out of his stiffness. „Hey, Makki.“

A wide grin was the response. “Long time no see. Glad you’re back.”

“Thanks.”

To be expected, Oikawa wasn’t very talkative all evening. And when he did answer, he sounded a little foreign. He still spoke well, but you could tell he hadn’t spoken Japanese every day in years. Although, Iwaizumi decided that, to be fair, there wasn’t much to talk about while watching TV anyway.

In a small quiet moment he grew painfully aware of their constellation. The four of them, just like in school. He was shocked to realize graduation was over eight years ago. Time was a thief.

After the game Hanamaki and Matsukawa left and they were alone again.

In silence Iwaizumi cleaned up the few bottles of beer in his apartment. Oikawa stared stubbornly out of the window. The light of the advertising signs reflected in the rain and cast his face in orange.

„What?“ 

For a moment, he expected no answer but to his surprise, Oikawa did.

„I thought they hated me.“

Iwaizumi froze in his movement when the words sunk in. He frowned. “You knew they didn‘t. They are our friends.“

„No, they are your friends. I haven‘t talked to them in over five years,“ Oikawa said calmly.

Oh. Had it really been that long?

„I wasn’t a good friend. It would have made sense if they didn’t want anything to do it me anymore.” Oikawa said numb. In the same tone he always said things these days- like nothing could shake him anymore.

When Iwaizumi came back from the bathroom ready to disappear into his room, he saw that Oikawa had already made hsimelf a bed again on the couch he had slept on for two days now. He lay in the dark, turned away from him.

“Tell me next time they are coming over,” he said quietly. “I was not prepared.”

 

 

°°°

 

 

The next day, a Friday, Iwaizumi had taken the day off, and they drove to Sendai.

Usually he limited his visits to once every six months because when visiting his parents there wasn’t much to do.

Iwaizumi went with his mother to the market, endured the friendly neighbors who wanted to talk about health problems, and helped his father with small repairs.

It wasn’t boring- it was simply a quiet life. One he had once been part of. Now it felt like he was having a vacation he didn’t really have time for. It wasn’t that he didn’t like sending time with his family. t was more that whenever he returned to quiet Miyagi, he was reminded of his responsibilities waiting in Tokyo. He was expected somewhere. He was in a hurry.

From Oikawa he didn’t hear anything until Sunday noon. Everyone had been out of house to run errands, and Iwaizumi had started to analyze the new constellation he wanted to present to coach on Monday.

The sound of the high bell made him startle. Bird chirped through the open terrace door into the kitchen. It was starting to get war. Summer was slowly approaching.

When he went back outside with two cups of tea, he saw Oikawa sitting in a garden chair, not texting anyone, not busy. Instead, he simply watched the blue sky covered by only a few clouds.

It was a peaceful picture, and for a moment he wanted to watch him a little longer-but of course, Oikawa noticed him immediately and turned around.

Their eyes met briefly, and Iwaizumi was instantly reminded of his current state. The opposite of peaceful. He was no longer who he had been before with a witty smile and a charming aura. An endless lingered in his eyes.

It wasn’t the first time that Iwaizumi, felt the other’s man pain like it was his own.

Again, he didn’t ask anything. Together they sat in silence and watched the birds until his mother came home and brought them cake.

“I’m driving back today,” Iwaizumi eventually said.

“Mhm,” Oikawa made.

He knew that had been his job: pick him up from the airport and bring him here. To his family. He needed to return to his life in Tokyo and Oikawa would stay here.

He also knew he should have asked him things-how he was, that he was there for him, and more. But he just couldn’t. All this time apart and Iwiazumi could not think of a single thing to talk to him.

“If you ever want to breathe big-polluted city air again… please, don’t hesitate to call.”

And he spoke his mind so freely, that there was no doubt Oikawa had understood the honesty in his words.

 

 

°°°

 

 

It was ten p.m. on a Wednesday night when Oiakwa appeared at his door.

It should have bothered him, the way Oikawa did things in that typical Oikawa manner. Leaving whenever he wanted and suddenly showing up again, without caring about anyone else. He should have been bothered, but all he felt was surprise.

“I could have picked you up,” he greeted, but Oikawa waved it off and limped past him with his backpack. He still had crutches, but they seemed to be there only out of habit now- he hardly leaned on them anymore.

“Please,” Oikawa said. “You’ve done more than enough.”

He made his way to the kitchen and set off tea. Something about how natural it was made Iwaizumi wave over with a warm feeling. He leaned in the doorframe, arms crossed and watched him.

He did not expect him to talk when Oikawa suddenly did.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t stay there anymore. The last weeks have been… They’re all asking me questions- Mom, Dad, neighbors, aunts. They’re all so noisy and they want answers which I don’t have. What am I going to do now? How am I feeling? When will I walk again?”

Iwaizumi understood too well. Sendai was as noisy as any village.

“Mum wants to baby me, she barely lets me go into the garden by myself and ordered me to rest. Dad wants me to do as much as I can, thinks I am getting more depressed that way. They fight a lot and then we eat in silence.”

He looked up and finally met his gaze directly.

“I am sorry if this is too much. Promise I am searching for something my own. It’ll be for a week or two… if you have me?”

He couldn’t remember when the last time was Oikawa had asked for something like that- had actually expressed a desire that wasn’t pushed on him by someone else. This was Oikawa wanting to stay here with him.

“Of course,” he said quickly. “Stay as long as you like.”

Oikawa nodded once when Iwaizumi offered a smirk.

“You really have to make an entrance everywhere, don’t you? Couldn’t you just text me?”

Oikawa didn’t smile back, but there was a faint amusement in the way he raised his eyebrows at him.

A daily routine formed naturally.

Iwaizumi went to work. Oikawa was mostly still asleep when he left, and sowly, day by day, teh dark circles under his eyes added a little. He had doctor appointments, rehab everyday and therapy twice a week.

Yet Iwiazumi always looked forward to coming back after his long day as soon as possible. Sometimes Oikawa cooked, and they ate together.

When Iwiazumi had to work late afterwards they sat together on the couch and watched game after game. Even though Iwaizumi had first worried that it might hurt him, it actually seemed good for him. He followed the games attentively and snorted every time a stupid point was lost. They teased each other- when Iwiazumi once again blames a distraction on the lack of teamwork, and Oikawa rolled his eyes at the lack of desire to win.

 

 

°°°

 

“Can we go on a drive?”

Yawning, Iwaizumi looked up from his breakfast. It was Saturday, and he had a rare free day. He watched Oikawa as if his face could to tell him something else- but it didn’t. He just continued spooning his cereal.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Zushi beach.”

“Zushi beach,” Iwaizumi repeated.

It was warm, the roof of his convertible letting the warm breeze brush their faces.

Oikawa turned off the radio.

“You don’t like Queen?”

“I’ve learned to sympathize with silence every now and then. Makes the thoughts clearer and easier to think.”

Iwiazumi shrugged. He didn’t mind sitting in silence and put on his sunglasses against the sun.

The beach was crowded and the day carried on nicely. When they watched teenagers play amateur beach volleyball Iwaizumi took a satisfied sip of his water bottle. This was nice, everything was.

“I like this,” Oikawa said gaze still pinned at the court.

“You do? I was worried you might grow to hate how everything about me is about volleyball.”

To his surprise, Oikawa shook his head followed by a small smile. “No, not at all. You help me keep volleyball in my life.”

It was early evening when they made their way back to his car.

Oikawa kicked a stone before his feet when he opened the conversation. “You haven’t asked me why we came here.”

“You wanted to see the ocean, I suppose?”

“Yes and no.”

“Keep talking or shut up. What kind of answer is that?” Iwaizumi grumbled as he started the engine.

“I heard people call it ‘little California’ in the waiting room. I thought you might like it.”

Iwaizumi paused in his move for only a second when Oikawa speak further.

“Safe to say, they were lying. It doesn’t look anything like it.”

Swallowing, Iwaizumi smirked. “No, it really doesn’t.”

The drive back was filled with a little music this time neither of them really listened to. They almost reached Tokyo when he dared a question that had interested him for a while now.

“Have you talked to Sofia? She must be worried.”

And against all expectations, Oikawa answered him. “She does. But she also knows I’m in good hands here. Also, I wouldn’t have been able to spend time with you if I’d stayed in Argentina. You’d be quite sad, wouldn’t you?” he teased.

“Devastated, Arrogant-kawa.” Iwiazumi smiled glancing at the rearview mirror and started to overtake a red car. “I’d be devastated.”

He noticed Oikawa’s gaze on him. Mostly it was him watching Oikawa like an eagle. Yet sometimes, he could feel Oikawa’s eyes gentle resting on him with the same quiet attention.

They entered the apartment, and Oikawa laid an hand on Iwiazumi’s shoulder as he passed him. “I’m off showering first.”

Then he went straight into the bathroom as if it belonged to him.

Iwaizumi stopped in the hallways, as he set his keys aside.

 

He hadn’t known how long he had been watching the door Oikawa had vanished behind. The new Oikawa. The one who had stared at the sky for too long and had liked to drive in silence. He was still himself, but entirely different.

When the sound of the shower turning on had reached him, he had finally turned away- shaking his body quickly when he had noticed his shoulder still tingling from the touch moments ago, yet the warmth sensation refused to leave.

Notes:

I can not handle Iwaizumi falling for every version of Oikawa. I can really not. My heart is swelling up.

Chapter 12: Epilogue

 

The drive along the country road from Sendai to Tokyo has become his favorite by far.

Even now, after four hours on the road, he still enjoys every minute. The lights break the darkness of the night and flash across the trees for a millisecond as they pass.

Something has changed, Iwaizumi thinks as he stretches his neck to the side. He feels relaxed, almost always, when returning home from Sendai. There is no longer a hurry inside his blood that drags him back but simply a small desire for the loud and busy streets of Tokyo.

Next to him, Oikawa hums a song he doesn’t recognize. He listens at the surrounding silence for a moment.

Iwaizumi turns the car heater a little warmer, even though it barely works. Still, it is nice, he thinks, his hand casually resting on the soft leather of the wheel. He loves this car. A convertible really had been the better option.

Oikawa’s phone beeps. He glances down, then puts it away again.

„Don‘t you want to get it?“

„Mhm?” Oikawa looks to him as if only just now remembering he is not alone. “Oh. No. Not important.“

He goes back to staring out the window, and Iwaizumi can’t help but thinking he has been a little absent these last weeks. Which would make him a bad boyfriend, too.

„Stop.“

„What?“

„Thinking I‘m a bad boyfriend,” Oikawa says, shooting him a warning glance. Then he smirks, „What? Are you stillsurprised? I always know what you‘re thinking, Hajime.“

He has gotten used to Oikawa using his first name naturally, just as he once used Iwa-chan. It fits into their life better.

“I was not thinking that,” he lies.

“We broke up a while ago.”

Iwaizumi taps three fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “Did you.”

“Yes. We both knew for a long time and now that I’m away I know it was the better choice. We’re still good friends, but it wasn’t what I was made for.”

“And what are you made for?” He asks, unable to stop the provocation.

“Driving around the world with you, obviously. Can we do that again? A nice long road trip?“

“Sure,” he says quietly and the silence stretches on.

“Also, that phone call was my therapist checking in again.”

The road is smooth, the car moving gently over the asphalt. Iwaizumi suppresses a yawn. Half an hour until they’re home. He can’t wait to enter the dim light of his apartment and watch a movie in the living room that has somehow turned into Oikawa’s space.

It is fall, and Oikawa is still here.

Ever since he had shown up at his door almost six months ago he simply had never left. His mug had followed shortly after. Then the bathroom sink exploded with skincare products. Iwaizumi would never tell him how much the worn-out pair of shoes by the door always brighten his mood whenever he came home from the gym.

He thinks Oikawa has fallen asleep when he hears a soft, “Thank you.”

He frowns. „For what? Driving you to your parents? My parents live there too, idiot.“

„Not that,“ Oikawa says, and he can hear the smile in it.

Uncomfortable, he shifts in his seat. „What then?“

„Not forgetting me.“

He feels a pair of eyes lingering on him a moment too long before they choose to turn back to the passing countryside. His face prickles under the loss of attention.

Confident, he pulls into the exit, wondering when being with Oikawa had become so easy again. It is as if they are finally on the same path-walking side by side on a bright road with a future neither of them can fully shape yet. Each shining for himself, doubling the light, instead of one walking ahead and the other following.

He knows what that gaze means. He knows exactly what lives in Oikawa’s eyes when he looks at him these days. He knows because Iwaizumi had carried the same look all his life.

Even now, there is no way he can look at Oikawa that doesn’t carry any love.

Purposefully, Iwaizumi glances into the rearview mirror, blinks, and overtakes a green Jeep.

Then he feels something- a hand, slowly but surely taking his and resting it on top of the gear shift.

Iwaizumi looks over and sees a genuine smile forming on Oikawa’s lips. His gaze lingers on their joined hands as he says, „You know, I really think you could make me love Japan again.”

 

Notes:

A mix of pure joy and sadness that this fic has come to an end is tearing me apart :(
Thanks for reading if you made it this far- I hope you had a good time.
Good night, and until next time!
-ServerX