Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Can’t you let me win once?” Tooru whined, turning to Iwaizumi with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Iwa-chan—”

“Call me that again and we bring this fight into the real world.”

“You’re so mean.”

“You should’ve thought of that before challenging me to a one-v-one.”

“You know, most people have fun while playing games.”

“There’s no space for fun here,” Iwaizumi grunted. “Only winning.”

“This isn’t the court!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You watched the two of them battle it out on Smash. You knew well enough that challenging Iwaizumi to a battle on there was a death wish. But Tooru had an insatiable need to win all the time – even if he liked to act otherwise.

You knew that hunger would take him far. And you weren’t the only one. Everyone always knew that Tooru was going to leave an impact, no matter what he chose to do.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called out to you, giving you a small smile. “Would you like to have a go?”

“Not against you,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not mad.”

“Fight Oikawa then,” Iwaizumi smirked, nodding at him. “You’ll crush him easily.”

“Hey!” Tooru whined, waving his arms dramatically. Sometimes, you thought that Tooru should’ve pursued a career in the dramatic arts alongside volleyball. There was certainly some wasted potential there.

“You might do better if you didn’t scream every time I punched you,” Iwiazumi smirked. You could feel the fondness in his voice, even if it was buried under a layer or two of mock contempt.

“I can’t help it!” Tooru wailed. “It always takes me by surprise!”

“Alright,” you grinned, getting to your feet.

“I’ll lend you a hand,” Iwaizumi said, patting the space between him and Tooru on the couch.

“That’s not fair!” Tooru whined, pouting at the two of you. “There’s no way I’ll win if you work together.”

“Oh, definitely not.” Iwaizumi flashed him a wicked grin.

Tooru turned to you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. I can’t handle this.”

Your brother knew exactly how to pull on your heartstrings – even though he was the older one.

“He’s bullshitting,” Iwaizumi cut in, quelling your guilt before it even had time to build.

“I’m not,” Tooru huffed. “I’m terrified.”

“That’s no excuse,” Iwaizumi shook his head, flicking through the menu.

Tooru watched him, hawk-like. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving her Meta Knight.”

“That’s not fair!”

You grinned, patting your brother on the back. “I am new to this game. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Tooru glared at you for a long moment. It almost felt like you were having a proper fight.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Iwaizumi chuckled, handing the controller back to you. “He’s just a sore loser.”

You couldn’t have thought of a better way to describe your brother.

But you were just glad to make an attempt to reach across the gulf between you, that impassable abyss you felt you had no hopes of leaping across. For once, it felt like you belonged in your brother’s life. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“Shit,” you grumbled, patting your pockets.

“Don’t let Oikawa hear you speaking like that,” Hajime chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

The two of you were standing in line at the local boba shop, a frequent after-school haunt for the two of you. It’s usually a little busy, swallowed up by the after-school rush of students who either didn’t do their extracurriculars at school or simply didn’t care.

“What my brother doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” you mumbled half-heartedly, looking up at Hajime with your best puppy eyes. “I forgot my wallet.”

“Again?” He grinned. “I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.”

“It’s not my fault Tooru won’t lend me any cash,” you shrugged. 

Not that long ago, your brother was responsible for financing your after-school snacks. 

But since entering high school, Tooru had discovered girls. And girls had discovered Tooru.

You hadn’t expected your brother to be so highly-sought after – seeing as he was such a brat – but you weren’t about to complain about it. If he wasn’t volunteering, he usually had a date on Tuesday afternoon, which left Hajime free to walk you home.

And he never failed to do so. Every single Tuesday, Hajime would wait for you at the school gates, ready to do his duty and escort you safely back to the Oikawa household.

Of course, these trips were rarely ever linear.

You suspected Iwaizumi abhorred studying. Sitting in one spot and reading page after page of academic jargon didn’t suit him. He never complained – and he reminded you time and time again that it’s important to stay on top of your studies – but he wasn’t above finding excuses to avoid it. 

The two of you always found ways to waste time, doing absolutely anything but studying or heading home.

His favourite of these little escapades seemed to be sitting and watching the mountains. There was always something wistful in his gaze, a sense of serenity that you’d never experienced yourself. He was only one year older than you, but he always seemed a little older than everyone around him – even if he loved monster movies. 

Regardless, you never cared much about what the two of you did. You were just willing to do whatever made him smile.

“Did you get a haircut?” He asked, shocking you out of your thoughts. He was walking over to the waiting area. You scurried after him, cheeks slightly flushed.

“No,” you shook your head. “Why?”

Hajime peered at you for a second, his brow furrowed. “It looks nice.”

You scoffed. “What, are you saying it doesn’t look nice normally?”

“No,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “It just looks… different.” He paused, eyes flicking away from you. “But your normal hair looks nice too.”

You stood there like a marble statue, praying to every conceivable deity that your face wasn’t glowing.

He always said things like that. Things that felt like they were meant to be compliments, but so laden with awkwardness that you could never tell.

And he always got so flustered. Not that you were any better. No, in some ways, you were worse.

You just couldn’t stop yourself from hoping. You loved moments like these, stolen away with Hajime in a small pocket of your week. You weren’t even sure if Tooru knew about them; were they perhaps a secret you shared?

Of course, Tooru knew that Hajime walked you home, but not what time you got home.

You always wondered if he tried to make these little trips last longer. You certainly did.

But if he ever noticed you ambling, he never reprimanded you for it. He always slowed down to accommodate you, his arm occasionally brushing against yours. It was always enough to make your heart beat just a bit faster.

Today was no different.

“You know,” Hajime said, taking a sip of his boba. “Oikawa’s still upset that you didn’t pick up volleyball.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hajime smiled. “Something about how he can’t believe how his ‘precious little sister’ should’ve followed in his footsteps.”

“He just wants to brag,” you huffed, sipping up a pearl with vengeance. Hajime chuckled and your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but be proud whenever you were the reason he laughed. 

“Is that why you don’t want to play?” He asked.  

You frowned. “Sort of?”

“You don’t sound certain.” 

“I don’t know…” You chewed on your lip, turning the question over in your mind. You knew that some people expected you to follow in your older brother’s footsteps. They assumed that his skill was due to overwhelming talent. For some, the natural assumption was that it must run in the family. 

You, of course, knew otherwise. If anything, the ignorance towards Tooru’s hard work was the most insulting thing about this particular assumption. 

 “I guess… I just…” You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to say. If you had any intention to ‘follow in your brother’s footsteps,’ it would be to emulate his passion and dedication. That’s what you wanted — not to be an incredible volleyball player in your own right.

“I want to find something I excel at, you know?” You admitted. “If I even try and get into volleyball, I feel like I’ll always just be Tooru’s younger sister. Like… it’d be hard to feel like I was getting opportunities on my own merits.”

That much was true. Just as much as you abhorred how people ignored Tooru’s hard work, you feared the thought that if you did follow him into volleyball, your own efforts would be ignored. Or, worse yet, played down. 

Besides, it would be hard not to get overshadowed by Tooru. Not when he shone so brightly. 

“If volleyball is what you want to do, you shouldn’t let that hold you back,” Hajime sighed. 

You shook your head. “I don’t think I want to play volleyball though.”

Hajime paused for a moment, lips pursed around his straw. The two of you had never really spoken about the future, about what either of you wanted to do with your lives. Tooru didn’t even need to say that he wanted to pursue volleyball; that much was a given. 

“Do you know what you want to do?” He asked. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

Part of you felt silly for that. It had been so easy for Tooru — once he’d found his passion, he’d dug his heels in. Never once had he wavered, not even when he was at his most insecure. He knew what he wanted to do. He had a hunger for it. 

You could only wonder what that felt like. 

“And that’s okay.” Hajime’s voice was soft. Softer than it usually was. It’s like he knew what you were thinking, even though you hadn’t given voice to those deeper insecurities. 

“I just… I don’t know. I know that nobody else knows what they’re doing either but, like…” You almost regret starting this thought, but you’ve never had this opportunity before. It would be foolish to let it pass by. “Tooru’s always known. It’s kind of difficult to not feel like I should know what I want to do.”

Even your parents seemed to pay you less mind. You’d never really felt like you were less loved; but Tooru burned so brightly it was inevitable that you were cast in shadow. You’d worked tirelessly to root out any bitterness, but… 

“You’re allowed to be unsure,” Hajime said, interrupting your train of thought. “I know that’s redundant, but it’s true. You’ve got time.”

It was cliché. But there’s something about the way he said it that made you feel like you were floating. Maybe because it almost sounded like “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” 

A hand was suddenly ruffling your hair. You flinched, looking up at the boy standing next to you. 

He was smiling gently, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart beat a little faster. 

“You’ll find your strengths. I know you will.”

You held your breath for a moment, heat blossoming across your cheeks. Perhaps this boy would be the death of you. 

“Thanks, Hajime.” 

✧ ✧ ✧

There was never any damn food in your house. It was the curse that’d plagued you since you were young – many a late night expedition to your fridge turned up fruitless.

Tonight was no different.

It was past midnight, but you couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you’d just laid there, staring at your ceiling while the hours crawled on.

So you’d scampered down stairs, phone in hand and hunger brewing in your stomach.

You squinted into the grim white light of your fridge, that familiar disappointment settling over you.

You hated nights like this. You couldn’t just lie in your bed for hours on end, thinking of nothing and everything. But you couldn’t even eat to escape your boredom.

You let the fridge door swing close with a muted thud, sighing heavily.

You turned around with a deep frown.

A figure stood in the corner of your kitchen.

A hand flew to your hand to contain your surprised yelp. ‘I have early morning training, you know,’ Tooru would say whenever you accidentally woke him up late at night – though you contended that he was just a very light sleeper, and it wasn’t your fault that the sound of the toilet flushing was enough to rouse him from his slumber.

But it wasn’t Tooru who was standing in the kitchen with you.

“Hajime,” you gasped, placing a solid hand on your chest. “Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“You should be,” you mumbled, gripping your phone.

You felt stupid, but standing alone in your kitchen with Hajime was enough to make your heart race.

You glanced down at your phone quickly for a distraction. By what might be divine providence, Amaya’s name lit up the screen. You weren’t quite sure why she was rambling about the stars at 12:41 AM, but you weren’t going to judge her for it.

“What’s so interesting?” Hajime teased, his head suddenly hovering over your shoulder and much too close to your face.

You flinched, almost dropping your phone. “I—Uh—Amaya,” you managed to splutter out, quite grateful for just how dark your kitchen was.

“She’s the tall one, right?” Hajime asked, making no effort to move out of your space. You could usually deal with the fact that he was often around at your place late in the evenings – and honestly, trying to ensure that you were more presentable than usual was more exhausting than you’d given it credit for – but you weren’t used to him being this close.

Most of the time, you just stayed in your room while Tooru and Hajime spent time together. Wonderful as he was, Hajime was stressful to be around. It was hard enough keeping your feelings a secret from him. You didn’t want to think about what Tooru’s obnoxiously observant eyes would be able to notice.

“You alright?” He frowned, moving to stand directly in front of you.

You realised what was happening a moment too late, mortification digging its heels into your stomach. “Oh, uh… yeah. Yeah.”

Hajime flicked your forehead gently, chuckling.

You pouted at him, completely unsure of where to take the conversation. Usually, you could hold yourself together enough without embarrassing yourself too much. But at 12:45 at night? Impossible. Humiliation was inevitable. 

“What’re you doing up?” He asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing up?” You shot back, somewhere between defensive and playful.

He grinned. God, he was aggravatingly handsome, even for a teenage boy.

“I can’t sleep,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d just watch a film or something until I got tired.”

“And then you decided to give me the fright of my life instead.”

“You could’ve been a burglar.”

“And if I was?”

“I would’ve thought of something.”

You took a moment to scan him up and down. “I feel safer already.” That was only half a joke. You were well-aware of just how buff he was. 

He chuckled, standing up to full height. “Anyway, I’m going to go and set up the TV. Feel free to join me.” He started walking off, pausing to look over his shoulder at you. “It’ll be more fun if you’re there.” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. 

Well, how were you supposed to say no to something like that? 

✧ ✧ ✧

For someone who’d been so adamant that they couldn’t fall asleep, you were pretty quick to doze off once bundled up on the couch in the entertainment room.

Hajime had set up the original Godzilla quite efficiently, despite his technological ineptitude. He may have been bad with machines, but there was little that could separate him from his beloved monster movies. 

You’d settled yourself down on the couch, waiting patiently for Hajime to join you. You were already overthinking it. How close would you be to him? Would he be comfortable with you resting your head on his shoulder? Would it be weird for the two of you to share a blanket? 

He switched the light off and you flinched. 

“Here,” Hajime said, handing you one of the blankets as he sat himself down on the couch. He was just a hair’s breadth away from you, your shoulders barely touching. 

You always seemed to be one step away from overt affection; bodies pressed together close enough to be suspicious, furtive glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking, ‘secret’ afternoons spent revelling in each other’s company. 

God, this was so frustrating. And so adolescent. But even if you wanted to, you couldn’t work up the courage to actually say something. 

The fear of rejection was too strong. 

“You ready?” He asked, turning to look at you. 

“Hm?” 

“To start the movie.” 

“Oh.” Your brain was far too addled for this. “Yeah.” 

Hajime nodded, pressing the play button. The screen went black for just a moment before fuzzy black and white images flickered into motion. 

You tried your best to pay attention to the movie. You really, truly did. 

But you were finally getting tired. You were vaguely aware of the fact a couple ships were destroyed, and a big dinosaur-shaped monster, and something about the government. But you couldn’t keep up – not when Hajime was so close to you. 

Perhaps you should’ve gone to bed. But you didn’t want to stop spending time with him. 

But even that wasn’t enough to help you keep your eyes open. Against your sheer determination, your eyes kept fluttering closed. You were sure he’d tell you off for not just going to bed, but you still weren’t ready to leave just yet. 

But he was so warm pressed against you, the dim light of the room so soothing, the din of an old movie a quiet lull… 

“Hey.” 

A gentle voice came from above you. 

You opened your bleary eyes, only to immediately squint. Wait, what was going on? Where were you? 

“Wake up.” 

Oh, that was Hajime’s voice. Why was… That’s right. You were watching a movie with him. 

And now, you were….

Oh, shit. You were leaning on his shoulder. If you were a little more lucid, then maybe you would’ve repositioned yourself. 

But you were tired, and he was comfortable. And, he hadn’t pushed you off yet. 

“What time is it?” You mumbled, stifling a yawn. 

“It’s two.” 

“Oh.” You blushed. “Whoops.” 

Hajime chuckled. “I thought you said you couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” you groaned. “But then I got sleepy.” 

“Then you should’ve gone to bed,” he chided. But there was a playful tone to his voice. 

You huffed, shifting yourself off his shoulder to get a better look at his face.

Even in the monochrome half-light of the TV, he was still obnoxiously handsome. Maybe not in the most classic of ways – there was something rougher about him, something unpolished, unrefined. But you’d always liked the honesty in his face; you felt it matched his personality perfectly. Some of your friends thought he looked kind of intimidating, but you’d always disagreed. To you, he looked kind. Maybe not in the most traditional sense, but in a way that was truly his. 

Oh man, you were drowsy. If you were more lucid, you’d have known better than to just sit and stare at his face. 

But he was staring right back, a certain tenderness in his eyes. You’d seen it before, on your walks home and in the quiet moments you shared. But he’s never been this open about it before. If you caught him, he usually looked away, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. 

But tonight, he seemed to be fearless. 

You wondered – no, you hoped – that maybe, just maybe, your suspicions were correct. That he did indeed feel the same as you. 

A hand came up to cup your cheek. You leant into it instinctively, letting the weight of your head rest against his palm. 

Hajime smiled, stroking a gentle thumb over your cheek. His hands were a little rough, just as you’d expected, but they’re so gentle. 

You were about to go into cardiac arrest. You could feel it in every inch of your body. There’s no way he couldn’t hear your heartbeat – not when it was thrumming so loudly in your ears. 

“You’re so cute.” 

It took you a moment to process what he’d just said. 

Wait, he called you cute? While looking at you like that? There was no way you were making it out of this room alive– 

He leant in, pressing his lips against yours softly. You froze, every nerve in your body now on high alert. 

Iwaizumi Hajime? Kissing you? No way. No. Better yet, your first kiss? You had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening. 

And yet the burning of your cheeks, the swelling of your heart, the feeling of his lips pressed against yours all said otherwise. This was happening. 

It was a little clumsy, a little stiff. But you didn’t care. What mattered was that it was happening. That your heart was hammering in your chest at an inhuman speed. That finally, finally, you could express this affection you had for him. 

You wanted to move, to touch him, to hold him close. But you were too dumbstruck to move, content to just stay like this for as long as he’d let you. 

He pulled away after a long moment, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you. He was smiling widely – a rare, full-bodied smile. 

Oh. He was smiling like that because of you. Against all odds, your heart found a way to beat even faster. 

“We should go to bed,” he said, voice a few shades deeper than usual. 

The red of your cheeks deepened.

“Different beds,” he added quickly, clearing his throat. You’d thought that much was obvious, but you weren’t about to tell him that. God, you hate being seventeen. 

Somehow, you managed to get yourself out of that little room and up the stairs. He was right behind you, close enough to keep your mind muddled and your heart thrumming. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep. You’d be thinking about this all night. 

You said nothing to each other as you bid farewell, simply giving each other a small nod. You weren’t sure if it’s because he wanted to be polite, or if he was left just as speechless as you were. 

But as he walked away, he turned to give you one last smile for the night, letting it say everything he couldn’t. 

You took a deep breath as he walked away, the ghost of his kiss on your lips and your head whirling. 

You were excited for what the morning would bring.

Chapter Text

You’d half-convinced yourself that it was all a dream. There was no way Hajime had kissed you last night. No way he’d looked at you like that – like you were the most delightful thing he’d ever seen.

It sounded far too good to be true.

But the smile he’d given you in the morning told you otherwise.

It was so gentle, so honest. There’s a softness in his eyes that you’ve only caught a few times before, and each time he knew you could see it, he had always looked away.

But this morning was different. Because last night had been different.

Because he’d kissed you.

The two of you were in the kitchen, Iwaizumi with a cup of milk in hand and you empty-handed. You had intended to come and get yourself some breakfast, but you weren’t sure if you could stomach it now. Not with all these butterflies crashing around in there.

You hadn’t even said anything to each other – just looking at him was enough to make you feel like you were going to melt into a useless puddle. 

He nodded to the kitchen counter. You followed his gaze to a mug, the string and tag of a tea bag dangling over the side. One look at the tag and you knew it was your favourite. 

Oh. He remembered. You weren’t even sure if you’d told him that detail, but he’d paid enough attention regardless. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, casting your eyes to the ground.              

Come on, you thought, at least say thank you. You’ve spoken to him plenty of times before. If anything, you should be less nervous now – he’d kissed you. Kissed you! That meant that he must like you a little bit, right?

Your heart bloomed in your chest, spreading a feeling like static throughout your body. At the very least, you could say good morning. And you knew – you just knew – that he would smile at you again. That’s enough motivation.

You took a deep breath, finally lifting your eyes back up.

“Are you alright?” Tooru’s voice popped your bubble. He was standing just to your left, bread bun in hand and cheeks puffy like a squirrel’s.

“Hm?” You tried to pay him no attention; you absolutely didn’t want to give Tooru a reason to tease.

“You look sick.”

Of course. You shot him a glare, the dreamy look on your face morphing into a scowl. “Oh, thanks?”

“What?” Tooru whined, mouth full of bread.

“You’re being rude.”

Tooru scoffed, swallowing in one big gulp. “I am just a concerned brother, I don’t know why you’re demonizing me—”

You rolled your eyes, stalking over to the kettle.

Chances were a conversation with Hajime was likely out of the question, at least for today. You didn’t want to just announce this… thing between you to Tooru.

You’d just text him later.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Here,” he smiled, holding your boba out to you. He knew your favourite order like it was his own. That enough made your heart go wild.

“Thanks,” you blushed, letting your fingers brush against his as you took the cup from him.

You caught a glimpse of colour in Iwaizumi’s cheeks, and your heart fluttered.

He stabbed his straw into his boba and brought it to his lips.

He had such nice lips. They weren’t particularly big or striking, but they were nicely shaped. They complimented his face, balancing well with the rest of his features. And best of all, they were softer than—

You snapped your eyes away, heat flooding through your face.

God, you were embarrassing. This was embarrassing.

The two of you had already kissed. Why were you so damn awkward. Surely, you could hold his hand. That usually came before kissing for most couples. You might be working backwards, but that was okay, right?

“Hey, uh… Hajime?” Your throat was dry, your hands clammy.

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. This was still harder than you’d given it credit for. Even if you had crossed other lines, this was still more exciting than it should be. “Can I hold your hand?”

There’s a moment of silence. A long silence.

Had you said something wrong? Was this moving too quickly? But he’d kissed you…

“Ah, that’s…” He said finally. You caught your breath. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Oh…” You tried to swallow down the weird little lump in your throat. “Okay.”

“Not, uh…” He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not until we’ve told Oikawa.”

“Right,” you nodded. You fought the urge to shake off your disappointment, to stretch out the fuzziness in your hands.  

You’d get there eventually, you told yourself. One of these days, you’d walk hand-in-hand with Iwaizumi Hajime, happy and giggly and open about your feelings.

You couldn’t wait for that day.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Where’s Hajime?” You asked, juice box in hand and frown on your face.

“He said he needed to study this weekend,” Tooru yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

You did your best not to pout.

Other than your Tuesday walks, Friday was the only other opportunity each week to spend time with him without it being too obvious.

But he wasn’t there this Friday.

A little knot sat at the bottom of your stomach, small enough to be ignored, but heavy enough to give you pause.

You shook your head, frowning.

No, you were being silly. He was just busy this weekend – and perhaps you should be, too. There was no reason for you to be so worried.

Not when he’d given you no real reason to be.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s been almost two weeks since he’d kissed you.

It’s been four days since he’d had a proper conversation with you.

On reflection, he had been a little weird on Thursday. His texts had been drier than usual – and he was already a pretty dry texter. Then, he hadn’t come over to your house on Friday like he usually did.

And then, he hadn’t texted you at all over the weekend.

That little knot in your stomach from Friday had gotten tighter, bigger, more demanding.

It’s like he was hiding you away. Some part of you – a part you very much wanted to throttle – feared that he was doing so because he was ashamed. That being seen with you would be embarrassing. Not that he’d given you any reason to think that, but the worry just wouldn’t shift.

The more logical part of your brain knew he was doing it so Tooru wouldn’t see you together. That alone is enough to root a deeper, more violent anxiety through your stomach.

But he had to walk you home today. You didn’t feel like he’d bail on that, at least.  

To your relief, he was waiting for you at the school gate.

But as you made your way to the boba shop, he didn’t say much. He wasn’t the most talkative of people, but even this was quiet for him.

And when he was purchasing both your drinks, he made no comment about your financial ‘situation’. The most you could get out of him were some anecdotes from practice or what assignments and exams he had coming up.

And as you walked on, the stretches of silence grew longer. Usually, you wouldn’t mind them, but these days…

Hajime sighed, slowing to a stop. You shuttered to a stop after him, only just becoming aware of your surroundings.

To your left, the mountains. To your right, some rocks and a wall. In front of you, Hajime.

This was familiar. This spot, this boba, this afternoon.

But something was distinctly off. This wasn’t your typical outing to go look at the mountains. This was different.

You bit the inside of your cheek. So, he was of the same mind as you.

“So,” you sighed, sitting yourself down on the rocks. It was warm to the touch, likely from basking in the summer sun all afternoon. Hajime remained standing, his eyes trained on the mountains.

You didn’t know what you wanted to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what there was to say. Was this his way of telling you he wasn’t interested? Was that it? You’d never really been involved like this with a guy before, so the potential was there. Was this just standard practice for boys?

“How are you?” Hajime asked, a strange stiffness in his voice. There was usually a bit of tightness in his face, a light scowl or a look of intense concentration. But even he looked tenser than usual.

“I’m okay,” you lied. You took a moment to try and catch his eye. He wouldn’t look at you. “How about you?” You asked, hoping to alleviate at least some of the awful atmosphere that had begun to cloud around the two of you. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Perhaps you were being more polite about it than you should’ve. Perhaps you should’ve stormed up to him with a vengeance, demanding to know why he was suddenly ignoring you after taking your very first kiss.

But you just didn’t have the guts to do that. Not at seventeen.

“Yeah…” Hajime mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve been busy.”

You were well-aware that it wasn’t entirely a lie. He was Seijoh’s ace after all. And his studies were becoming more and more important. You knew as much.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

You bit your lip, looking down at your skirt. You took a deep breath, placing your boba on the ground next to you.

“Hey, Hajime… I think we should talk,” you swallowed, your heart stuttering in your chest. “About…”

“I know.” He cleared his throat, looking up at the sky.

“Yeah…” You braved a glance at him.

His jaw was tense, his brow furrowed in that familiar knot.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hajime?” You murmured, clenching your fists in your lap. You wanted to reach out to him, to place a comforting hand on his back. But your instincts were at war with one another, unsure of what to do.

He looked at you for the first time. There’s something like torment behind his eyes. Hopelessness, conflict, regret. It felt like something really terrible had happened – was about to happen.

It felt like your ribs were about to crack.

“Look, I…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I think it’s best if we pretend this never happened.”

The world shuttered to a stop. The mild afternoon sun was now searing your skin.

“What?”

“There’s too much that could go wrong.” His response was instantaneous – a little too quick by your count.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, twisting your skirt in your fists.

He was quiet for a long moment, still looking at the sky. “What if we broke up?”

You froze, objections dying in your throat. It was a fair question. But you weren’t sure if it was entirely relevant.

“We haven’t even given it a shot yet,” you murmured, trying to swallow down the discomfort brewing in your chest.

“And it’s best if we don’t.” His voice was firm, blunt. It’s the voice he used when trying to get through to Tooru.

Tooru…

“Did he say something to you?” You asked quietly, closing your eyes. If your brother…

“He doesn’t know.” Hajime knew exactly what you were talking about. “And it’s best if he didn’t.”

“Why not?” There’s something else brewing in your chest, not unlike indignation.

“One of the guys asked him about you,” Hajime said, his voice spread thin.

“They did?” You frowned. You knew who ‘the guys’ were. But you hadn’t spent enough time with the volleyball team for you to actually know what any of them were like. Although, you were only fixated on Hajime. That might have something to do with it.

“Yeah…” Hajime nodded. “And he was pretty mad.”

Really? Tooru had the gall to get angry at the fact a boy expressed interest in you? That’s why Hajime wanted to call this off?

“Are you scared of him?” You snapped before you could stop yourself.

He sighed. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Your response was quick, sharp, irritated. But if Hajime caught onto that, he didn’t say.

“It’s just…” He sighed. “It could get messy.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to still the barrage of questions you had. This didn’t make sense. Why would he—

“I don’t want to lose both of you.” His voice was soft, fragile. More fragile than you’ve ever heard it be.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say to that.

“What do you think he’s going to do if he thinks I’m messing around with you?”

Your chest ached. “Messing around?” The corners of your eyes were starting to sting.

“I don’t mean it like that—”

“Is that what you saw it as?”

“No.” He almost shouted that. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes. “But he will.”

You understood.

God, you understood.

Hajime was scared that you thought he was using you. That he was playing with your feelings and leading you on. Worse yet, he was frightened that Tooru would think that way, too.

Would Tooru perceive it as a betrayal? Would your relationship cause conflict in their friendship? Would you fuck everything up by getting involved?

Tooru trusted him more than anyone. You knew how much Hajime meant to him.

And you knew that Hajime wasn’t going to throw that away for a crush.

You took a deep breath. Your throat had grown painfully dry, and your stomach was starting to swell. You needed to get home.

“Alright,” you said, standing to your feet.

Hajime stared at you for a moment, a strange brew of emotions in his eyes. You didn’t have the energy to try and work them out.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi,” you mumbled, giving him a quick bow. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

He was silent for a long moment as you bent down to pick up your boba. The boba he’d bought you. He hadn’t teased you for your lack of funds today. Had that been a preemptive apology?

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally.

It didn’t feel like enough.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. You didn’t look at him as you turned around, already plotting your walk home without him. Surely he’d understand that you needed to be alone right now.

He didn’t chase after you. Not as you walked away. Not as you threw your unfinished boba into a bin. Not as you held back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, fists clenched at your sides.

A weight pressed inside your chest, something so heavy and immovable that you knew you couldn’t keep it down this time. The bitterness you’d been trying to stifle for years bled through your ribs, rippling through your body.

Tooru got everything.

He got the passion, the drive, the direction.

He got all the attention, the opportunities, the praise.

He got Hajime.

✧ ✧ ✧

The cool touch of porcelain in the pitch dark was more soothing than you’d given it credit for.

You hadn’t known what else to do. If you were in your room, chances were someone could walk in – especially if you turned all the lights off and hid under your covers.

Admittedly, hiding in the bathroom with all the lights turned off was no less suspicious. But there’s something comforting about the cold and dark. Your brother had been onto something all those years ago.

When you were younger, you’d found Tooru sitting in the bathtub, knees drawn up to his chest while he cried.

He’d been fourteen at the time. You were barely thirteen.

You hadn’t known what to do – the first thing you did was run for Hajime.

That’s what you’d always done when it came to Tooru. You always turned to Iwaizumi – without fail, that was your answer to almost every issue. It was the only thing you could think of, even to this day.

The light flickered on. You flinched, your eyes screwing shut at the sudden assault on your retinas.

Someone yelped. It wasn’t you.

You whipped your head round, squinting at him.

“What are you doing in here?” Tooru asked, face marked mainly by confusion but not without a hint of concern.

“Just… sitting,” you said, blinking a few times.

There was no way you’d tell him why you were here. Something in you felt like that’d be wrong; that, maybe, you’d be betraying Iwaizumi’s trust.  

“What happened?” Tooru asked, his voice soft and tender. He crouched down besides the bathtub, propping his elbows on the ledge.

You shook your head, looking away from him.

“You can tell me,” Tooru pouted. “Do you need me to beat someone up for you?”

“No,” you choked, cursing yourself for the crack in your voice. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

You glared at him, sniffling. God, you must look pathetic.

“Hey,” Tooru held his hands up. “I’m just being honest.”

You let out a long sigh, rolling your shoulders.

“I’m just tired,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

“You sure?” Tooru said, concern heavy in his voice. “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Tooru,” you sighed.

You couldn’t tell him. Even if he offered to support you, offered to beat up anyone who broke your heart.

Because the very person that had broken your heart was the very same boy who pulled him up off the ground.

Chapter Text

“He disgusts me,” Amaya shivered, angrily shoving a spoonful of strawberry kakigori into her mouth. “Piece of—”

“It was ages ago,” you sighed, picking at the mountain of flavoured ice in front of you. “It’s not that important…”

“Yes, it is,” Amaya leant forward across the table. “It’s his fault, right? He kissed you.”

You bit your lip, giving your friend a pitiful look.

To say it was ages ago wasn’t quite a lie. It was finally the summer holidays, and it’d be a few months since that fateful afternoon.

You hadn’t wanted to spend your summer break thinking about this sort of thing. It felt like a waste of emotional energy.

But you just couldn’t get it out of your head.

You kept replaying the same few moments over and over in your mind – the kiss, the morning after it, the conversation…

“In my humble opinion,” Amaya sighed, preparing herself another scoop of kakigori, “I think he should answer for what he’s done.”

“Please don’t say anything,” you whined, reaching across the table and grabbing her wrist. “Don’t do anything, either. I don’t want to cause a mess.”

“He’s the one who caused a mess,” Amaya huffed, dropping her spoon into the kakigori bowl. “You have a right to be pissed.”

“I am pissed,” you sighed. “It’s just… I kind of get where he was coming from, you know?”

“No.”

“Well, like—” You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to clear your mind. “If we’d broken up, that’d make things really awkward.”

“Isn’t it already awkward?”

“I… yeah…”

“I just think he could’ve gone about it better,” she shrugged. “That’s all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, twirling your spoon between your fingers. “You’re right about that, at least…”

Amaya watched you for a moment, pursing her lips together. You knew what she was thinking. That was reason enough to fear any potential advice.

“Date someone else,” she suggested. “Maybe that’ll help you get over him.”

You grimaced, cursing her for being able to read your mind. “No thanks.”

“Why not?” Amaya asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Yahaba seems to be into you.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Ew, no! He’s on my brother’s team.”

“And?”

You shot your friend a dithering look. “That’s the problem, Maya,” you scoffed. “If Iwaizumi’s not ‘good enough’, then I doubt anyone else on the team is.”

“Did your brother say that?” Amaya gaped.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But that’s what Iwaizumi implied.”

Amaya scoffed, screwing up her nose. “Men aren’t worth it.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s true…”

“And men,” she said, pointing a finger directly at you, “don’t deserve you.”

“You know what?” You grinned, tilting your head at her. “You’re right.”

“I always am,” she replied, waving a hand at you.

You sighed, stretching your arms above your head. “Besides, if I end up going to America, I don’t want to deal with a long-distance relationship,” you grimaced. “Sounds tough.”

“What, you wouldn’t fight for love?” Amaya teased, fishing her phone out of her pocket.

You stuck your tongue out at her, screwing up your nose. “Shut up.”

Amaya giggled, looking down at her phone screen.

You took the opportunity to treat yourself to some of the kakogiri. The two of you had barely made a dent in it.

Amaya dropped her phone back into her pocket, tilting her head at you. “Hey, aren’t those qualifiers coming up soon or something?”

“Hm?”

“For your brother’s volleyball,” she shrugged. “You said something about going to nationals?”

“Oh, right!” You perked up, nodding. “If they win these preliminaries, they’ll finally get to go to nationals.”

“This is your brother’s last chance, right?”

Your stomach sank a little. “Yeah. He’s… he’s been working really hard.”

“Really hard?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or too hard?”

“What do you think?”

She sighed, placing her hands in her lap. “Right.”

You pressed your lips together, frowning.

“Hey, hey,” Amaya hummed, leaning over to flick your forehead. “Try not to think too much, okay? We’re supposed to be having fun.”

You smiled at her weakly.

“No more talk of boys,” she decreed, waving her spoon at you. “They’re a waste of time anyway.”

✧ ✧ ✧

There might be a thousand other places you’d rather be than outside Seijoh’s gym. But, you’d come to the conclusion that God hated you, and therefore would take any opportunity to submit you to some kind of punishment.

Tonight, it was this – standing outside a gym where a mass of sweaty teenage boys congregated, one of which was your brother, and another the Iwaizumi Hajime.

Tooru had always finished practice late, but this was just ridiculous.

Initially, you’d been content with walking yourself home after class, asserting that you were grown up enough to trawl the streets of Miyagi without a chaperone.

But recently, you’d signed up for the student council. You were surprised they let you in so late in the year,

Your parents had been chuffed with that, proclaiming that you were “finally showing some initiative” and that it was “a great way to teach you some responsibility.”

You hadn’t told them that the real reason you’d joined was because you were worried about Tooru.

You peeked inside the gym, eyes scanning the brightly lit hardwood for any sign of your brother.

You didn’t bother to check your watch. It was far too late in the evening for that anyway.

The boys were scrambling around on the court, jumping and spiking and all that volleyball stuff. You managed to catch sight of your brother, who, by your observation, was very much in the zone.

Perhaps maybe it would be okay for you to sit in on—

A flash of spikey hair was enough to make you recede, drawing yourself back into the dark.

You sighed, turning around and slumping yourself against the wall. Somehow, you felt even more exhausted than before.

Fuck this.

Fuck school and all it’s damn responsibilities.

Fuck your brother’s determination to overwork himself until he’s falling apart at the seams.

And fuck Iwaizumi Hajime.

Maybe you should just head home. Tooru would come home eventually, and…

No. That defeated the point.

You’d just have to wait it out, Iwaizumi Hajime be damned.

A few more minutes passed. You heard who you believed to be the coach call out an end to practice, followed by a resounding “Yes!”

You sighed, checking your watch. Seven o’clock. Even that would be considered a late practice.

Usually Tooru would usually wave the rest of the team out, spending the next hour on his own.

But not tonight.

You scampered through the gym doors, making a beeline for your disaster of a brother.

“Hey, Oika-chan!” A voice called out, making you stumble in your approach.

Ah, Matsukawa.

“Hey,” you waved absentmindedly, unsure of how exactly to process that nickname. It didn’t exactly roll off the tongue

“Stop calling her that!” Tooru yelled from the other side of the gym. “It doesn’t even sound cute!”

“You’re just jealous,” you shot back instinctively. “You just wish you were me.”

Tooru scoffed, ready to launch into a new tirade.

But you weren’t listening to him. Against your best efforts, your eyes sought out Iwaizumi. He wasn’t even looking at you.

Ouch.

Sure, you’d be avoiding him as best you could; finding excuses to be in your room or out with your friends whenever he was round at your house, always positioning Tooru between the two of you whenever you were forced to spend time with him… But, that didn’t stop it hurting. 

You shook off the disappointment and continued your route to Tooru.

“Oi,” you barked, jabbing a finger at him. “Hurry up. I’m making dinner tonight and you’re going to enjoy it.”

Tooru screwed his nose up at you, grimacing. “But I still need to practice.”

You came to a stop in front of him, grabbing his elbow. “Too bad.”

“Aw, don’t complain,” Matsukawa grinned, suddenly appearing and looping his arm around Tooru’s shoulders. “We don’t all have a cute girl vying to cook us dinner.”

“Ew!” Tooru shrieked, shrugging off Matsukawa’s arm. “Don’t be gross that’s my sister!”

“I slave over the countertop for you and you don’t even have the decency to respect my efforts,” you scoffed, deciding to ignore Matsukawa’s half-compliment. You weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“Just stick it in the fridge,” Tooru sighed. “I’ll heat it up when I get home.”

Agitation brewed in your stomach, your mouth turning dry.

If he stayed here, he’d just overwork himself like he always did. And he’d come home sore and exhausted, bandages on his fingers and bags under his eyes.

But the prefecturals were so soon. If he wore himself out now, he wouldn’t be able to play to the best of his ability.

“Tooru, that’s not fair and you know it,” you whined. “Please.”

He tutted at you, shaking his head. “Now, now, as the older sibling, it’s natural law that I know be—”

“Hurry up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi grumbled, coming up behind Tooru and kneeing him in the back.

Tooru yelped, stumbling forward and out of your grasp. “Iwa!”

“We’ll clean up just fine without you,” Iwaizumi muttered, stepping away from your brother.

He caught your eye.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he going to speak to you? Acknowledge you? Make you feel like things weren’t as weird as they were?

He just gave you an almost imperceptible nod.

You gave him a small smile in response despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Of course, Iwaizumi understood. He probably understood better than you did.

“Come on,” you whined, grabbing Tooru’s elbow and yanking him towards you. “Or I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, dragging him towards the door. After a small scuffle he grabbed his bag, whining about how he was still in his sweaty gym clothes.

You waved off his concerns, telling him it was his own fault. Mustering all your strength you managed to push him outside, reprimanding him for wasting so much of your time.

You glanced over your shoulder one last time as you left. You weren’t quite sure why.

But Iwaizumi met your gaze for just a moment, his jaw tense.

That look stuck in your mind for the rest of the evening.

✧ ✧ ✧

The last thwack of a ball on the court.

Your brother, body half-twisted and arms outstretched, fighting to the very final second.

Everything the team had worked so hard for, gone. Crushed.

All those hours, all those late nights spent practicing, all the sweat and grief and band-aids.

All meaningless.

It was written on their faces. Regret, disappointment, shock.

And Iwaizumi. Poor steadfast, honourable Iwaizumi.

You’d never seen him cry. Never. But there he stood on the court, doing everything he could to hold back the tears.

You couldn’t even guess at what was going through his mind: probably some guilt about letting everyone down, for not being the best version of himself for the team.

You hoped, for his sake, that nobody else was paying attention to him.

Tooru patted him on the back. A firm, solid slap.

Even you could tell how much meaning was in that one gesture.

You gripped the barrier tightly, your knuckles beginning to ache. You watched with bitterness on your tongue, ready to cry the tears that Tooru refused to.

By the time you meet the team outside, you knew he didn’t want a hug. Even if you wanted desperately to give him one, he wouldn’t accept it.

He’s too angry for that.

You don’t know what to say; he’s worked so hard for this.

They all have.

And now they have to walk away from it all, no real victory to their name. Oikawa Tooru – destined for greatness, but yet unknown outside of Miyagi. He never did make it to nationals.

You bit your lip, regret and frustration and sympathy twisting in your stomach. There’s nothing you could’ve done, but by God you wished you’d done more.

Something. Anything.

But you’re just his little sister, a girl with nothing to offer. You hadn’t even stepped into the manager role when he’d asked you to in your first year. You’d been so distant from this world of his, a distance you’d only widened since that little hiccup with Iwaizumi.

You turned to the team, racking your brain for the appropriate thing to say.

You bowed. “Thank you for all your hard work.”

It felt empty, but you meant it. You knew that most of all, Tooru was proud of the team. Proud of what they’d built together.

It’d been three years of pain, but they’d done it together. And you knew, deep in your heart, that they’d given their all for him. That, at least, you were grateful.

You didn’t say goodbye.

Your fists are clenched at your sides as you exit the building, rushing home on aching thighs. You hadn’t even realised you’d been tensing so hard during the game.

Thoughts stumbled through your mind on the walk, trying to sort themselves out.

Should you have said something to Iwaizumi? Offered him some comfort?

He was obviously shaken by what’d happened. But perhaps that would’ve been stepping over a line. Maybe it would’ve made him uncomfortable.

And yet, you regretted not addressing him. He, more than anyone else, had given everything for Tooru.

His time, his sweat, his heart.

He couldn’t give anything to you because…

You swallowed, shaking your head. Now wasn’t the time to feel bitter.

Once you walked through the front door, you raced to the kitchen and rifled through your cupboards.

Bread flour, yeast, sugar…

A peek in the fridge.

Milk, butter, eggs.

You set everything on the counter, clattering around in your cupboards until you find a bowl, a whisk, a wooden spoon and a baking pan.

Your next few hours are a flurry of measuring ingredients, kneading dough with aching thumbs, checking oven temperatures and waiting.

You did all sorts of things to distract yourself during the waiting period: cleaning, reading, homework, laundry. But you could only do them in spurts, little five-to-ten-minute blocks until your anxiety returned.

You’d have to sleep this off.

By the time the oven finally pinged, letting you know you were finally free of your baking duties, you were exhausted.

But you rushed back over to the oven and took out your loaf, inspecting it once over. It looked okay – not as good at Kaori’s, but passable. Hopefully it tasted alright. You didn’t have the guts to check.

You let it cool as you grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled out a little note.

“Good job today, you asswipe. You inspire me to work harder and go farther.

I’m so proud of you.”

You bit your lip, looking it over once. Is it sensitive enough? Is it too sensitive? Would it bring him comfort? Would it piss him off?

Hard to say.

You sighed, folding it over so it could prop up like a tent.

You cut off a third of the loaf, still hot, and plopped it on a plate. You wrapped the rest of the loaf up and placed it in the bread holder. Perhaps you’d have some tomorrow.

Tooru’s room, usually a place that was very out of bounds, was the next stop on your anxious little trip around the house. You placed the plate on his bedside table, propping the note up next to it. Hopefully this would make him smile, even if just by a little.

But you didn’t want to wait up to see.

The comfort of your own bed was calling you, coaxing you into an early night’s sleep.

You laid down with a sigh, unsure of whether or not you could be bothered to have a bath.

A little suggestion crawled through your mind, dragging itself along by it’s fingernails.

You tried to shoo it away. It was a terrible idea, really. One that was bound to end with you feeling quite shitty.  

But tonight wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about your feelings.

You sighed, picking up your phone from the bedside table.

Hey, you typed.

[YOU] 7:31 PM: I hope you don’t mind me texting you like this, but thanks for looking after Tooru so well.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at the name “Iwaizumi Hajime” at the top of your screen. Taking a deep breath, you tapped the blue arrow.

The message slipped into the grey space above, into the train of messages that hadn’t moved in months.

You stared at it a moment longer, fingers flitting anxiously around your screen.

Oh, fuck it.

[YOU] 7:33 PM: And thanks for being the best Ace he could’ve asked for.

It’s not what you wanted to say. It’s not what you feel like you should’ve said. There’s so much more, so much left unsaid.

But tonight isn’t about me, you reminded yourself. It’s about him. About them. About all they’ve been through together.

You waited a few minutes, heart hammering in your chest.

A response.

[Iwaizumi] 7:37 PM: Thank you.

[Iwaizumi] 7:37 PM: I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Argentina?” You hissed. “But that’s—”

“On the other side of the world,” Tooru shrugged. “What are you so mad for? You’re the one who wants to go to America.”

You had nothing to say to that. The two of you were sat at the breakfast table, your pieces of toast left untouched.

When Tooru had told you he wanted to talk to you this morning, you hadn’t expected this.

“When do you leave?” You asked, a lump forming in your throat.

“Soon,” he sighed. “I’m just trying to work out boarding and whatnot.”

“So… you’ll leave as soon as that’s sorted out?”

“That’s the plan.”

“It’s like you’re rushing out of here,” you mumbled, picking at your nails.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he grinned. “I’ve just got to make sure I can get ahead. The sooner I start, the better.”

You looked up at him, frowning.

He wasn’t the little boy curled up in the bathtub anymore. He’s a young man with the tenacity to form his own destiny, circumstances be damned.

This day was bound to come.

But that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

✧ ✧ ✧

A week passed. And then a month.

The year ended before you knew it. The festivities rolled on, but not without a hint of melancholy.

Each New Years celebration was tainted with the realisation that, after he left, chances were you wouldn’t see Tooru again until the same time next year.

You returned to school for the third semester and everything seemed like it was moving in fast forward.

It’s well and truly changing.

Student council swallowed you up, your family made a point of spending as much time with Tooru as they could, and life plodded on.

And before you knew it, you were standing at the airport at five in the morning, your parents to one side and Iwaizumi to the other. Your older sister, Kaori, was also there, hand-in-hand with your nephew.

For a farewell, it was quite the turn-out.

“Well,” Tooru took a deep breath, looking between the small crowd of faces in front of him. “You all better miss me.”

“Don’t push your luck, Tooru,” Kaori teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tooru tutted. “Almost sounds like you’re glad to be rid of me.”

“I am,” your nephew piped up.

“Takeru!” Your mother chided. “Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s fine,” Tooru grinned. “He obviously just doesn’t know what else to say.”

Takeru simply stuck his tongue out at your brother, who just laughed as he stepped forward to ruffle his hair.

Tooru turned to you, grinning. “It’s now your job to take him to volleyball practice.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Really, that’s all you’ve got to say to me?”

“Of course not!” He laughed, hopping towards you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “You be good, okay?”

“Always am,” you mumbled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Study hard,” he hummed. “And don’t talk to boys.”

“Tooru!”

“I’m serious!”

“Don’t worry about me,” you huffed. “Worry about yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” he chuckled, pulling back. “Stop being such a worry-wort.”

You pouted at him. “Stay hydrated or I’ll kill you.”

“You know I will,” he tsked. “Which one of us is the athlete?”

“And don’t overwork yourself,” you continued, “or I’ll crawl out of the TV like Sadako and drag you back to Japan.”

“You know what?” Tooru grinned, letting you go. “I fully believe you’re capable of that.”

“Be afraid.”

He ruffled your hair; a sure signal that your conversation was over. You bit your lip as he moved over to talk to Iwaizumi. You tottered around to where your sister was, wrapping your arms around her waist – partly to give Tooru and Iwaizumi some privacy, partly to seek out some comfort.

She chuckled, standing on her tiptoes and propping her chin on the top of your head. “It’ll be okay.”

“Hm?” You blinked. “Oh, I’m not sad. Not at all.”

“You sure about that?” Kaori chuckled.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Glad to be rid of him, actually. It’s my turn to get the biggest bedroom.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to text me, okay?”

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“And visit me more often!” Kaori chided. “I feel like I don’t see you enough.”

“I’m sorry,” you whined.

Kaori was right about that, at least. You’d spent the past few months focusing on Tooru, and before that, you’d been moping about Iwaizumi.

Some sister you were.

You peeked out the corner of your eye at the two boys you’d just fled from.

They were fist-bumping. Why they couldn’t just get over it and hug one another, you’d never know.

Especially seeing as this would likely be the last time they saw each other in a very long while.

Even if this was what Tooru wanted, even if this was a decision made on his own merit, something about it still felt off.

You want to be happy for him. You want to celebrate this new chance, this opportunity to make a name for himself outside of this tiny prefecture. But the melancholy wouldn’t budge; it’s like it’s rooted itself deep amongst the marrow of your ribcage.

You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself.

You needed to be happy for him. And if you couldn’t, you needed to fake it.

“Alright,” Tooru sighed, addressing all of you as he stepped back and grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “I’m off!”

“Call us when you get there!” Your mother called after him, her eyes glassier than they were moments earlier.

“Will do,” Tooru called back, waving a hand over his head but not turning back.

“Make sure you eat well,” Kaori yelled. “Like I taught you!”

“I will, don’t worry!” Tooru called, ever more distant.

You wondered if there was anything you could shout out, anything you could implore him to do. But nothing came to mind that you hadn’t already said. But even that didn’t feel like enough.

Tooru passed through the gate, turning around to give you all one last wave.

He was so bright, so brilliant.

He always had been. But it was as if passing through that airport gate had freed him of the roots twisted around his ankles, finally allowing him to fly.

You frowned. What a stupid thought.

Once he was out of sight, your parents sighed.

“Alright, everyone,” your father yawned. “Time to go.”

You shuffled out of the airport in silence, your eyes cast to the ground. You lagged a few steps behind your family as you let your thoughts consume you.

How was this all going to work out?

It wasn’t like Tooru was just leaving for university. If it was just for education, there’d be a time frame. But he hadn’t given your family any of that.

He was just… going to Argentina. For how long, he couldn’t say. Would he be gone one year? Five? Ten?

Was that really for the best?

But he seemed optimistic. Maybe this would be the opportunity he needs. Maybe this would change everything.

“He’ll be fine.”

A voice over your shoulder made you jump. You turned to see Iwaizumi, a look of genuine concern on his face. You hadn’t even noticed him come up behind you.

“He always finds a way to land on his feet,” he said, digging his hands in his pockets.

“I know, I just…” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m worried about him.”

Worried about his safety, worried about his health, worried about his tendency to overwork, worried about the possibility he could be lonely, worried about his sense of self, worried—

“But, if he’d just stayed here, he’d never be satisfied.”

You paused, looking up at him. Iwaizumi was staring ahead at the early morning sky, something relaxed in his features.

“He’s got to keep pushing forward, no matter what,” he continued, looking at you. You caught your breath, but you didn’t look away. “If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for his losses.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

He was right. Iwaizumi was always right when it came to Tooru.

And you were grateful. Of course you were.

But a nugget of regret was buried deep in your heart.

Iwaizumi wasn’t worried about Tooru at all. He believed in him, trust him to go forward.

And yet you don’t feel the same. You can’t.

You can’t have the same faith in your brother because you don’t know him well enough.

Maybe you never would.

✧ ✧ ✧

More time passed.

Your holidays ebbed by in a haze, a flurry of friends, family, serious conversations about your future, and a little bit of snow.

You were trudging home in the waning afternoon after a day out with friends when you saw him. He was coming back from the opposite direction, bundled up in a jacket, with a scarf slung haphazardly around his neck and beanie pulled low over his hair.

You wondered if he’d bothered spiking it up this morning.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi raised a hand at you in some paltry greeting.

“Hi,” you nodded, slowing to a stop in front of your house.

He looked at you for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Admittedly, that was usually how he looked at you.  

“How are you?” It was a simple question, but you were more curious about it than you’d like to admit. The two of you hadn’t spoken since Tooru left, your interactions limited to brief nods and hellos if you ever happened to bump into each other in public. Nothing deeper than that.

“Good,” he said, finally breaking eye contact as his gaze flitted to the ground. “I, uh… I leave for uni tomorrow.”

Your heart stopped in your chest.

Iwaizumi was leaving too, huh?

Not that there was much of a friendship for you to miss. But something about him leaving really solidified it all.

Tooru had left to pursue opportunities much bigger than those offered to him in Japan, and now Iwaizumi was off on his own journey.

Your stomach swelled, a quiet nausearattling through your body.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say. “Well, good luck.” There was a long, painful pause.

He was looking at you again, something else in his eyes. Did he want you to say something else? Ask more questions?

“You’ll do great,” is all you managed to say, a tight smile stretched across your lips.

“Thanks,” he breathed, something between a sigh and a chuckle.

You hurried through your front door, a strange anxiety prickling over your skin.

Whenever you spoke to Iwaizumi, it never felt like enough. Like there was more to say, more to admit.

But regardless of what had happened, regardless of your regrets, you had to move on.

You should’ve done so months ago.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that, Tooru?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as normal as possible.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You were sat on the edge of your bed, phone pressed to your ear and fist twisted up in your sheets. There was a chill in the air that wouldn’t have bothered you under normal circumstances.

But after those words had left your brother’s mouth, something about the room felt sharp.

“I’m the one who suggested it, aren’t I?” Tooru chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pain blossoming through the muscle. “I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with me living with one of your friends.”

“Iwa’s a good guy,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you guys have known each other for ages. He’ll look after you, I’m sure of it.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment, at a total loss of what to say.

“It’s not like he’s going to try and get in your pants or anything,” Tooru snorted.

Godzilla. The couch in your family’s entertainment room. The warmth of his lips on yours.

But you couldn’t tell Tooru about any of that. Although, the moment he’d suggested you move in with Iwaizumi almost made you crack.

By some stroke of bad luck – or perhaps as the set-up for some cosmic joke – you’d gotten into the same university as the boy you’d been so enamoured with as a seventeen-year-old. And you’d genuinely had no idea.

But it was too late to change your plans. You’d already gotten a scholarship, and you were sure you parents wouldn’t forgive you if you pulled out now. Even if your instincts were telling you to do just that.

“Have you spoken to him about this?” You asked. Perhaps this was your out. If Iwaizumi wasn’t all for it, then there was absolutely no reason for you to agree with it. Right?

“Yeah,” Tooru said. “He’s all for it.”

You frowned. Iwaizumi? Okay with this? Even though he was the one who’d decided that you needed to distance yourselves from each other?

But… it’s been a year. And he’s been a university student living in another country. A lot had probably changed for him.

A lot had changed for you.

And as much as you wanted to deny it, there were benefits to living with Iwaizumi, at least for one semester.

Moving to America is scarier than you’re willing to admit. The thought of living with an unknown roommate in a country you’d never stepped foot in before had kept you up at night a few times.

What if you hated each other? What if something went horribly, terribly wrong and you were left stranded? What if they were a creep?

At least Iwaizumi was a known quantity. One that you hadn’t necessarily left it on terrible terms one; just awkward ones.

“You still there?” Tooru’s voice shocked you back to the present moment.

“Oh, yeah,” you cleared your throat, “is his LINE still the same?”

“Sure is!”

Your throat felt dry. “I’ll call him later.”

You twisted your fists in your bedsheets, a weird knot forming in your stomach.

“Good,” Tooru hummed. “I think it’ll be good for you. You don’t need to be completely alone when you first move over there.”

Guilt twisted in your chest. You knew why he was saying that. He’d told you just how lonely those first few months in Argentina had been.

He didn’t want that for you. That’s why he’d suggested this damn roommates idea.

If only he knew.

“That’d be good,” you said. It wasn’t a lie.

Another thought sat at the back of your throat, forcing its way out.

“Tooru, I… I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”

Your voice was painfully quiet as you finally breathed life into the one fear you didn’t want to admit. You hadn’t even mentioned this to Amaya. But you knew you could trust Tooru with this – perhaps, he might even be able to say something useful.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone as gentle as he could muster. “I didn’t think I was ready, either.”

“I figured,” you grinned. For all his bravado at the airport, a few dozen follow-up phone calls had really sowed that idea in your mind.

Tooru scoffed. “Here I am, trying to be a good older brother—”

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed. “I appreciate the attempt.”

“You know, you’d think that me moving half way across the world would be enough to get you to finally be nice to me,” Tooru sighed, and you don’t need to see him to know that he was running a hand through his hair dramatically. “But alas… I’m doomed to be mistreated by my very own sister.”

“Have you considered being less dramatic?” You teased. “Then maybe I’d take you a bit more seriously.”

You held the phone away from your ear as Tooru started his tirade,

“If I’m being completely honest,” he said, his tone now much heavier than before, “I thought I was making a big mistake for a second there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Two weeks in and I wanted to run back home. I wondered if I could really do this.”

A part of your brain told you to be surprised. Another part told you that of course he’d be frightened.

Tooru is just a human, not some superhuman who’s above mortal concerns – no matter how much he tried to hide that fact.

“Turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.”

A gentle, relieved silence settled between the two of you, the only sound the distant din of traffic from Tooru’s end of the phone.

“I’m glad to hear it,” you murmured. Sincerity was rare between the two of you, but you weren’t about to pretend to be anything but relieved.

“Trust me, it’s going to be fine,” Tooru sighed. “And if it doesn’t end up working out, you’ve still got time. You’re young. And you’ve got a home to go back to.”

You searched for the comfort in those words as best you could. But you couldn’t find any. He hadn’t intended it, but within those words was a little reminder that you might fail. That you might not even come close to the brilliance that is Oikawa Tooru.

“Thanks, Tooru,” if all you could say. He’s just trying to be helpful.

“Besides, if it all goes to shit, you can join me in Argentina!” His voice was a tad more gleeful than you would’ve liked.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” you chuckled.

“Aw,” he whined, “why not?”

“You’d be such a helicopter parent.”

Tooru gasped, the sound piercing over the phone line. “I would not!”

“You would!” You laughed. “You’d meddle in everything?”

“And?” He scoffed. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes!” You protested. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Ah, well you see,” Tooru tutted. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ll always be a child to me.”

You rolled your eyes, a comfortable feeling of familiarity settling in your chest. Suddenly, your room doesn’t feel so cold. “I didn’t answer your call just to be coddled.”

“You should be used to it by now.”

“You know, whenever I start to miss you, I’m going to remind myself of this.”

“You are so mean to me!” Tooru wailed.

The bickering went on, an endless cycle of well-worn insults and epithets. But the conversation had to come to an end. You knew you couldn’t put off contacting him any longer.  

Eventually you ended the call, holding the phone to your ear for a couple of moments after it was over.

You sighed, letting it drop onto the bed. You flopped back in tandem, staring up at your roof.

Life really was just one big joke, huh?

Although, you wished you understood what the punchline was.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stared at Iwaizumi’s LINE profile a little longer than you should’ve.

It’d been a couple of hours since you’d ended your call with Tooru, and you’d only just worked up the courage.

In your defence, you hadn’t been planning on this. You’d expected to have a very different phone call with a complete stranger, deciding from a handful of phone conversations as to whether or not they were trustworthy enough to live with.

But there you were, about to call The Iwaizumi Hajime.

It’d be fine, right? That little heartbreak had happened well over a year ago now. It’s irrelevant. And you’re well and truly over it.

Not that the thought of calling him didn’t make you feel like you were about to throw up from nerves.

God, why did it feel like you were about to sit an exam?

No, you weren’t going to let your anxiety get the better of you. Not when your education was – sort of – at stake.

With a heavy sigh, you clicked the little call icon and held the phone up to your ear.

The ringing sounded like a death march.

“Hello?” Iwaizumi’s unmistakable voice crackled through your speaker.

Yeah, you definitely felt like you were about to throw up. “Hello.”

The line fell silent.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. Maybe you should’ve just lied and told Tooru that you’d already worked out lodgings. Sure, there’d be a last-minute scramble to get something in place before your parents caught wind of your little lie and—

“How are you?” The words were a little gruff, a little awkward.

This was going to be a very long conversation. You could feel it in your bones.

“I’m alright,” you said, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “How about you?”

“I’m doing pretty good,” he said. There’s something different about his voice. Maybe it was a little deeper than when you’d last spoken? Or maybe you were imagining it.

Truth be told, you can’t really remember what he sounded like.

“That’s… good to hear,” you said, a paltry attempt at an implied olive branch.

“Yeah, uh…” He cleared his throat. He was probably scratching the back of his neck as he spoke. You hated yourself for even assuming. “Things have been going well.”

A long silence followed. A very painful silence.

A silence, you realised, that you had to break.

“What are you studying?” You asked. A nice, neutral question.

“Exercise science.” The response was immediate. Was that… relief in his voice?

“Oh, really?” You blinked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You sound surprised.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment, searching for a response. But nothing felt adequate enough. Did you really sound surprised? Why did you feel the need to defend yourself?

“I mean I…” You bit your lip, frowning. “I don’t know, I just… wouldn’t have picked that for you.”

Did he just chuckle? You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle.

“What would you have picked for me, then?” He asked.

“I…” You racked your brain, trying to stitch together all the knowledge you had of the boy – no, the man on the other end of the phone. “I have no idea, actually.”

He distinctively chuckled that time. Damn the swell of pride in your chest.

“Why exercise science?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s the only chance I have of beating Oikawa.”

It’s so instantaneous and ludicrous that you laughed.

“That… doesn’t make much sense, but okay,” you smiled. You were well-aware of the competitive edge that ran through their friendship. Good to see that hadn’t faded, at least.

“You’ll see,” he promised. “Just you wait.”

You chuckled in response as another silence settled over the two of you.

What was there to say? What did you want to say? It’d been so long that you weren’t even sure.

“So…” Iwaizumi said, voice unusually tentative. “Oikawa told me you’re coming out here.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. That’s right. That’s the whole reason you were calling him.

“That’s a big move,” he marvelled, as if he hadn’t done the exact thing he was talking about.

“I know,” you murmured. “I’m kind of scared.”

“What of?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Perhaps your lips were looser than they should’ve been. “I just… I’ll be in a whole new country. Alone.”

“I see.” There’s something comforting about his voice. Something stable. He’d always been a good listener, hadn’t he?

“And… it gets more daunting the closer it gets.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m scared I’ll regret it.” There it was. The one fear that you hadn’t admitted to anyone else – not Amaya, not your parents, not Tooru.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked.

“I don’t know, I…” You bit your lip, a frown settling on your face.

Now you’d given that fear a voice, you understood it less. Wasn’t the opposite supposed to happen?

“Do you regret moving so far away from home?” You asked.

Iwaizumi wasn’t Tooru. He wasn’t driven by the same insatiability. He had his ambitions, yes, but he didn’t break his back trying to reach for them. Maybe, just maybe, that meant he’d be easier to understand.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Ah.” Not quite the answer you wanted to hear.

“But…” he sighed, “it’s been a good experience.”

“So… a net positive?”

“I’d say so,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of experiences I’m grateful for.”

“Right,” you nodded.

“I heard you got a scholarship,” he said.

“Did Tooru brag about that?” You groaned, running a hand down your face and bending over your knees.

“Sure did,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, biting back the urge to say, ‘it’s not a big deal.’ The last time you’d said that, Amaya had shot you quite the glare.

You swallowed roughly, looking down at your feet.

One deep breath, and it would be time.

“So…” you started, the back of your neck prickling. “Tooru said he’d spoken to you about me… potentially moving in with you?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Ah. Nice and blunt.

“Would you… be alright with that?” You asked, hands a little clammier than before. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of just dropping you in America with nowhere to go, so… the offer’s open.”

He sounded honest, at least. Not that you had reason to believe he would be anything but.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks.” You licked your lips, trying to stop your nerves from getting the better of you. “I appreciate it,” you added, unsure of how strange that might be to say.

“Not a problem.”

You couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“I can send you the information over email,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The lease and stuff like that. Also, the address so you can actually see where it is.”

“Oh, right…” you swallowed. “Yeah, that’d be useful.”

“Alright, I’ll get that ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I need to discuss this with my parents, so I’ve got to go…”

“All good,” Iwaizumi said. “Talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, lowering the phone from your ear and tapping the red ‘END CALL’ icon.

You tossed your phone at your pillow, watching it land with a muffled ‘thump’. It pinged with a notification – probably Iwaizumi asking for your email, you realised.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

You groaned as you flopped back onto your bed for the second time that evening.

What was going on? How had you ended up in this situation? Which cosmic force had it in for you?

Everything was so confusing.

One thing was for certain, though.

Amaya’s going to kill you.

Chapter Text

Life moved too quickly.

That was the only logical conclusion you could come to after the past few weeks. One minute you’re finding out you’ve got a scholarship to a university overseas, the next you’re spending as much time with your friends as you can without burning out, and then suddenly you’re standing at the airport, suitcase in hand and loved ones lined up in front of you like this is some fantasy RPG and you’re about to go into the final battle.

Your family had said goodbye before, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier. You’re the youngest, after all. The baby.

“Remember to call if you need anything, okay?” Your mother said, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“I know, mum,” you smiled. “I love you.”

She sighed, pulling you into a hug. She said nothing more, letting the slight tremble in her arms say all that was in her heart.

Your father was next, ruffling your hair with a certain melancholy. “Be good, you hear?” He chastised. “Don’t talk to boys.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Dad…”

“I’m just saying, there are more important things to focus on,” he nodded sagely. “And don’t go causing any trouble.”

“I won’t,” you nodded. “Promise.”

Kaori was next, a certain mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Send me a photo of every pigeon you come across,” Kaori said.

You grinned at her. “Really?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “That way I’ll know you’re alive every day.”

You stuck your tongue out at her. “That’s a terrible plan.”

“Is it so wrong for me to want to check up on my little sister?” She teased. “I just want to make sure you won’t forget about me.”

“I won’t,” you laughed. “I’m sure you won’t let me.”

“Too right,” she grinned.

She gave you one good, tight hug. She, more than anyone else in your family, seemed to be the best at swallowing this whole situation. It was a relief to know that someone would be there to console your parents.

Finally, Amaya. She pouted at you, pulling you into a rough hug.

“Don’t forget to text me, okay?” Amaya mumbled, her arms tight around her shoulders. “Or I’ll knife you.”

“I know,” you chuckled, squeezing your grip on her waist. “I’ll keep you updated on everything, don’t worry.”

“You better,” she huffed, pulling away slowly.

Once, you might’ve dreamed of going to the same university together. But life had a funny way of taking your plans and crumbling them to dust in the palm of its hand.

But you were sure that no matter what, your friendship would hold steadfast. Amaya wasn’t the type of person to let things die so easily.

You couldn’t delay any longer.

As you walked through the gate, you wondered if Tooru had felt like this. If he’d been hounded by this unrelenting fear, doubt, and anxiety. If he’d also felt like throwing up. If he had, he’d covered it up well.

That thought didn’t do much to quell the lurching in your stomach.

Tokyo had once felt unbelievably far away. But California? That was a different beast.

✧ ✧ ✧

After a twenty-hour plane ride and two stop offs later, you’d come to the conclusion that airports, in fact, were the most unholy places known to man. Whose fault was it that airports were labyrinthine hellholes which were impossible to navigate?

By the grace of God, or perhaps as an apology for the godforsaken pilgrimage that was your flight, you managed to find the luggage pickup area with relative ease. By the time you managed to haul your suitcase off the baggage carousel you were ready to take a nap for the next three months.

You sighed, looking up at the clock hung high on the wall. 5:21 AM. Ew.

You felt a touch of pity for all the workers rostered on at such an ungodly hour.

Oh, and whoever was responsible for escorting you to your new ‘home’.

As you trundled through that godforsaken place, suitcase trailing behind you and carry-on slung over your shoulder, you were too tired to think and too tired to worry about who might be waiting for you.

That clawing anxiety had gripped you for the first hour or so of your flight, but it’d been completely replaced with other worries.

There’s only fiberglass separating you and an absurdly high fall… what happens if the plane goes down? What happens if one of the wings caught fire? What if one of the doors inexplicably ripped off mid-flight and sucked you out through a vacuum?

Regardless, you’d landed with your soul very much attached to your body – although that in itself presented you with a host of new problems.

You glared at the signs pointing in every conceivable direction, praying that your English was good enough to decrypt this mess for you.

Arrivals. That sounded right.

You dragged your feet in that direction with a big yawn, decorum be damned.

A thin crowd was gathered at the gate, waiting to greet the ragtag group of travellers who filtered through. Mothers, daughters, beloved friends, lovers…

You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes and the hope that you’d catch sight of some familiarity.

Oh.

There was your name on a placard, written in hiragana.

And holding it…

Shit.

Iwaizumi Hajime. He was glancing around the airport, seemingly a little bleary-eyed.

Your flight-or-fight response was well and truly activated. Had he really shown up at the airport at five in the morning just to pick you up?

Oh no. Oh God. That’s… not what you were expecting. Sure, you’d been told you’d be “picked up” from the airport, but you’d just expected some taxi service or something. Your mum had sorted that all out anyway – she’d insisted that you let her do that, at least, to give her some peace of mind.  

But she hadn’t told you it would be Iwaizumi picking you up. Were you supposed to have assumed that? Fuck.

With the inside of your cheek trapped between your teeth and a sinking feeling in your gut, you dragged yourself towards him.

Each step you took towards him just seemed to make him look even hotter. He was wearing a loose white shirt, but you could tell that he was built. Even more built than he’d been when he left. He hadn’t done his hair in that spiky Godzilla style he used to, and it’s longer than when you’d last seen him. He’s gotten a tan, too – an unfairly flattering golden tan.

And he was wearing a pair of fucking grey sweatpants.

I’m going to die, you thought. It’s official. I am the world’s biggest idiot, and Iwaizumi Hajime will be the cause of my death via cardiac arrest.

Was it too presumptuous to text your family your goodbyes?

He caught sight of you.

You made eye contact for the first time in a year.

What do I do? Your thought, cursing yourself out for being so… so like this.

But Iwaizumi just waved at you with a small smile on his face.

You closed the distance between the two of you with trepidation, scouring your mind for what to say to him.

Hi? How are you? It’s good to see you?

None of those felt quite right. You were much too tired for this. And he was much too hot—

“Hey,” he smiled, dropping his hand to his side.

“Hi,” you nodded, resisting the urge to bow. Should you bow? He is your senior… but this isn’t Japan. But that didn’t change the rules of etiquette, did it?  

“I can carry that, if you need,” he said, nodding towards your luggage.

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have refused on the basis of pride alone. But you’d just flown halfway around the world, and you were doing your best not to drool at the bloody Adonis standing before you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing him your carry-on. You managed to finish the hand off without your fingers brushing, much to your relief.

Iwaizumi observed you for a second, a touch of concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” you smiled at him weakly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a lie.

“Understandably,” he chuckled, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

You frowned as he jangled them around one finger. “You drive?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I got my license back in Japan. Managed to transfer it over.”

“Huh,” you said. When had he learned to drive? That’d been happening right next door and you’d had no idea?  

“You ready?” He asked, looking at you over his shoulder as he turned around.

You nodded, tugging on the handle on your suitcase.

The two of you made your way to his car, which turned out to be a dingy-looking thing cobbled together with dull navy metal and rubber.

You said nothing as you packed the luggage into the boot, Iwaizumi doing most of the grunt work. Part of you felt bad, but you knew full-well that he had more strength in his right middle finger than you could ever dream of having.

He strolled around to your side of the car before you had time to remember which side of the road Americans drove on.

“Here you go,” he said. The asshole just had to open your door for you too, didn’t he?

You nodded your thanks, settling into your seat with a little more frustration than feasible.

He’d slipped into the driver’s seat as you finished buckling yourself in, and before you had time to take much of anything in, he was backing out of his parking lot.

You watched him from the corner of your eye.

He looked so… casual, doing this. The Iwaizumi you knew had never been behind the wheel of a car. And yet now, he’s moving like it’s second nature.

How much had you missed? So much must’ve happened while you were out of contact.

“Hey, uh… Iwaizumi?” You mumbled, clenching your fists in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for picking me up,” you said, chewing on your cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he chuckled.

You felt like you should say something else. But you’re weren’t sure what. He seemed relatively calm, given the situation. Saying the wrong thing could potentially fuck that up.

“How was your flight?” He asked, gently making his way through the car park.

“Uh…” Was there a polite word for ‘awful’? “It was fine.” You shrugged. “I made it here in one piece, so…”

Iwaizumi chuckled. The sound made your stomach flip.

You leant back in your chair, closing your eyes with a sigh. You didn’t know how far away your apartment was. Fifteen minutes? Ten? An hour?

Your brain reeled with potential small-talk topics. There might be a lot of time to fill.

“Take a nap if you need to,” Iwaizumi said.

“Thanks,” you hummed.

Maybe he was aware that he was giving you an out. Maybe he had no idea.

But you were more than happy to take it regardless.

✧ ✧ ✧

A pre-made bed was waiting for you in your room. You blinked at it a few times, the brain-fog of a long flight still clouding your mind.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Iwaizumi said, leaning against your doorframe. “I just got you some sheets because I didn’t think you’ have the energy to sort all that out today.”

You’re going to cry. Cry, and then die.

“Do you need help unpacking?” He asked.

You turned around sharply at those words, waving your hands about. “Oh no, no… I’m fine.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, as if he was appraising you. He simply nodded. “Well, call out if you need me.”

“Yep!” You offered him an unbearably stretched smile.

“Alright,” he said. With that, he was gone.

You sighed, turning to your suitcase. It was laid on the floor, unopened.

Shit. This really was a big move, wasn’t it?

And, you’d moved in with Iwaizumi. Something you’d never expected – not like this, anyway.

Shaking that thought out of your head, you kneeled in front of your suitcase. Something about it felt more reverent than it had any right to. You unzipped it slowly, pushing back the battered red lid to reveal your belongings.

You bit the inside of your cheek, starting with the first layer. You’d packed your pyjamas on the top – a move you’d like to thank younger you for.

As you placed it in your lap, you gazed at the rest of your belongings crammed into your suitcase.

You hadn’t brought all that much. Mostly clothes that you thought would be appropriate for the Californian weather, a few knick-knacks and keepsakes that you felt particularly attached to, a handful of your favourite books, your polaroid camera…

So much had been left behind. You didn’t mind that, for the most part; but it still felt like you were abandoning a part of yourself. Everything you’d accumulated over the past nineteen years, just…

Maybe your parents would hold onto all your things. But it wouldn’t be remiss for them to throw them away.

It’s all just part of growing up. That’s what you told yourself – you had to change, move on and get over it.

If Tooru could do it, you could to. You had to.  

But now it felt like his shadow was hanging over you darker than ever. Part of your own journey had been dictated by him; if he hadn’t recommended you live with Iwaizumi, where would you be?

What was Iwaizumi even like now? Was he a good person? He’d been very nice and polite ever since you’d seen him at the airport, but…

Was he trying to be warm? Or was he keeping you at an arm’s length? Could your ‘friendship’ ever recover from… that?

You swallowed, running a hand over one of your dresses.

Honestly, you just wanted to go to sleep.

You didn’t want to leave the room because that meant you might bump into Iwaizumi. You didn’t want to unpack because you had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to make you feel like crying. You didn’t want to call anyone because you knew you didn’t have the energy to do so.

There was only one thing to do, then.

You managed to drag yourself towards your bed, hoisting yourself onto it with a grunt. You curled up on top of the sheets, wrapping your arms around your knees.

The ache in your eyes didn’t subside as your closed them, but there was nothing else to do.

Attempting to rest was better than nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧

A knock on your door.

You bolted upright, startled out of your uneasy slumber.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice was distant but distinctive.

“Hm?” You didn’t trust your own voice to hold up.

“You okay?”

You bit your lip. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t your best lie,

A long pause followed.

“No, you’re not.” His voice was soft, gentle. Not like what you’d expected.

Although, you weren’t even sure what that was.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Uh…” You swallowed roughly, crossing your legs. “Yeah. Sure.”

He needed no more prompting, letting himself in and leaning himself against the wall.

There was good distance between the two of you. You’re grateful for it.

“What’s wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned. Why, you didn’t know.

Nor did you know if you should actually tell him. There was admittedly no reason to; at this point in your life, he was just a roommate.

“It’s just…” You sighed, your mouth moving before your brain. “It’s a big move, you know? I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

You’d had this conversation over and over again, both with Tooru and with Amaya. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. It was the one thought you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried to justify this whole thing to yourself.

“You’re more ready than you know,” he said softly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I guess…”

“It’s not easy, but you can do it.” His tone was resolute, not harsh but firm. It almost makes you feel like he’s right. Almost.

“And…” He swallowed, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I’ll look out for you. You’re not alone.”

You weren’t quite sure what those words made you feel.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Your voice is quiet enough to go unheard, but he smiled. It was only a little smile – one someone who hadn’t known him for so long might’ve missed – but it was genuine. You couldn’t tell if that was a good omen or a grim portent.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about this tonight,” he nodded, standing up straight. “You’re already exhausted, so you’ll only make it harder for yourself.”

You pouted at him, much to your own surprise. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Give me a moment,” he said suddenly, disappearing.

You sighed, lying back on your bed and closing your eyes.

It felt like you’d entered the Twilight Zone.

Maybe things would improve when you started uni. Then you’d have something else to think about that wasn’t just ‘oh God, I moved in with Iwaizumi Hajime and that was stupid, dumb, and a colossal mistake.’

Your instincts were begging you to book a flight and go straight home to Japan. Surely, you might be able to get into some university – sure, you missed the entrance exams, but perhaps…

Were you already chickening out? Tooru had moved halfway across the world entirely on his own, but he’d never once thought about turning back. And yet here you were, lying in your bed feeling like you were about to disintegrate just because your roommate happened to be someone you used to have feelings for.

God, that was pathetic. It was only day one.

“Here you go.”

You flinched, sitting up suddenly.

Iwaizumi stood at the side of your bed, holding a mug out to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Oh, thanks,” you nodded. As you took it from him, you peeked at the tea bag.

Your favourite. He’d made you your favourite tea. You took a tentative sip.

Shit.

“I hope you still like it that way,” he said, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

It reminded you of winter back home.

“I do.” You looked up at him, giving him a genuine smile.

He smiled right back, his face softening in that rare but stunning way you remembered.

You were a little proud of yourself for keeping it together.

“I, ah…” Iwaizumi cleared his throat, taking a few slow steps away from the bed. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ve got practice early tomorrow, so…”

You nodded.

As you watched him leave, closing your bedroom door on the way, you wondered if you should’ve asked him what his training was for.

But you just sipped your tea.

This really was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time you woke up in the morning, Iwaizumi was out. That was something of a relief. Iwaizumi not being around meant you could explore the apartment without the fear of bumping into him.

So, you took the opportunity, sneaking out of your room and taking stock of the layout of your apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room attached to a kitchen… it wasn’t big, but you weren’t about to complain.

It’s quite a change from the family home you grew up in, but the change is a little exciting. It’s certainly liveable, and you know your parents are grateful for the fact rent was affordable enough.

The apartment was well-tended and clean. You weren’t sure if he’d cleaned it up before you’d arrived – which wasn’t unlikely – or if he usually kept it this neat – which also wasn’t unlikely.

A few photos hung on the wall, some with people you knew, some you didn’t. There were a few photos of the Seijoh team, exhibiting various degrees of chaos. Some others included people that you recognized as his friends from high school, and there were several of himself, Tooru, Hanamaki and Matsukawa. 

Other photos were a total mystery, though. Probably friends from university, a mix of men and women you didn’t recognize.

You didn’t let yourself look at them for too long; your mind was concocting too many questions, too many narratives that made your gut feel all funny.

The only other thing of particular interest was the television and the DVD stand next to it, stuffed full of both Japanese and English movies. Most people streamed these days, but Iwaizumi had always been a bit of a traditionalist when it came to technology.

Regardless, the small size of the apartment meant there wasn’t all that much to explore.

You slunk back to your room after a close inspection of the bathroom, which you decreed as ‘clean enough’.

By the time you passed through the threshold of your room, a quiet blanket of exhaustion settling over you. Jetlag really was a piece of shit.

You tossed yourself on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe you could call someone. But you weren’t sure how the time zones lined up. Your parents wouldn’t be happy with you if you woke them up at some ungodly hour, and Kaori needed the rest. Amaya might be up, but you didn’t want to stress her out…

Tooru was an option. He wasn’t that far away in the grand scheme of things, and he might’ve been able to offer some advice…

But he was probably busy. And you’d already bothered him enough.

God, why were you so frustrated? Was it exhaustion? Anxiety? How difficult it was to wrap your head around the situation? You just wanted to sleep for a week.

Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered closed, and you drifted into an uneasy nap.

✧ ✧ ✧

A firm, steady knock cut through your barely conscious mind.

You blinked rapidly, frowning. Shit, did you have another nap? That better not become a habit.

With a groan (and a great deal of strain) you managed to get off your bed, dragging yourself to your door.

You opened it with trepidation.

Iwaizumi stood on the other side with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of yakisoba with chopsticks poking out of it in the other.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, eyes flicking to the ground, “you didn’t come out to eat, and I didn’t see any dishes in the sink, so…”

“Ah,” you swallowed. “Right.”

You hadn’t eaten yet. All day.

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking the bowl from him. To his credit, it looked good; plenty of vegetables, and nothing seemed to be burnt. That might be a low bar, but you digressed.

“Would you like to eat at the table?” He asked.

You resisted the urge to stare at him.

Eat at the table? Like… like… a family? Did roommates do that?

“Sure,” you nodded. You’re not really sure why – some fear of hurting his feelings, probably.

But you tottered after him, hoping to God that your stomach would settle enough to allow you to eat.

Iwaizumi settled himself down at the table, his seat already prepared with a glass of water, a bowl, and a pair of chopsticks.

He set the glass of water in his hand down opposite from him, in what seemed to be your designated spot.

You slipped yourself into the seat, taking note of just how uncomfortable it was. Affordability over comfort – a student mantra, apparently.

“How was practice?” You asked. You just wanted to fill the silence. Once upon a time, silence between the two of you wouldn’t have made you feel like crawling out of your own skin.

“It was good,” he nodded. He didn’t seem like he was trying to be terse of anything – Iwaizumi was just a man of succinct, short sentences.

“I’m assuming it’s volleyball?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

You took a small bite of your yakisoba. It reminded you of home. “Are you still a wing spiker?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “Although there’s a fair bit of competition for the spot.”

“Really?” You asked. You couldn’t imagine a volleyball team where Iwaizumi wasn’t heralded as a magnificent player.

“A lotta guys wanna be the ace,” he grinned.

You smiled. That made sense.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you both focused on your meals. Your appetite was voracious, now – you hadn’t even realised how hungry you were until you’d started eating.

“Did you leave the apartment today?” Iwaizumi asked, making you jump.

“Ah, no,” you shook your head. “I was worried about getting lost.”

“Fair.”

Another silence settled over you, a more pensive expression taking over Iwaizumi’s face.

He was completely unreadable. Probably because you knew nothing about him. Not anymore.

“Would you like me to show you around tomorrow?” He asked.

You blinked at him, completely blindsided.

“We could get lunch,” he offered.

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to process the muddle of feelings inside you.

What on earth was going on? Perhaps he was just reaching out a friendly hand. And, chances were, he felt some kind of duty to protect you.

“Sure,” you smiled. “Sounds great.”

You weren’t stupid enough to push away the only ally you had in this strange new world. Hopefully, other friends would come. But for now, it was just you and Iwaizumi in this little apartment, trying to make this arrangement work.

You had to make it work.

You’d find a way.

Chapter Text

The restaurant was tacky, but it was enough to remind you of home – even if it was in the most cliché ways possible. All of the cultural ‘nods’ are cheesy as a tourist trap, but Iwaizumi had told you that it was run by a family of Japanese migrants. Apparently, the food made that obvious.

“What do you recommend?” You asked, peering closely at the menu.

It was written in both English and Japanese, much to your relief. Most of the dishes offered seem like staples, too; you could grab most of these at some little outlet near your home in Miyagi.

“The rice bowls are pretty good,” Iwaizumi said.

“Should I get one with karaage or vegetable tempura?”

“You prefer karaage, right?”

You blinked at him for a moment. He remembers that?

“Both are good,” he shrugged, as if he hadn’t just made your heart jump.

“What are you gonna get?” You asked.

“Probably just some agedashi tofu and then an oyakodon.”

“Ah,” you nodded. You remembered that he’d shown a fondness for both dishes several years ago. Some things didn’t change.

Another silence fell over you. You wanted to say more, to think of something interesting to say. But nothing came to mind.

“Ah, Iwaizumi!”

You looked towards the source of the voice.

The owner was a cute girl with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, with bright and an apron wrapped around her waist.  

Iwaizumi turned to smile at her. “Hi.”

“How’ve you been?” She asked in perfect Japanese.

“Good,” he nodded. “Just trying to get ready for uni.”

“Of course, of course…” She hummed. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah.” He turned to nod in your direction. “This is my new roommate.”

You blushed, giving the waitress a little wave as he introduced you.

She turned to you and beamed, giving you a little nod in return. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“You too,” you smiled.

The waitress fished a notebook and a pen out of the front pocket of her apron, turning back to Iwaizumi. “The usual, I presume?”

“Mhm,” he chuckled.

“And what would you like?” She asked, turning to you.

“I’d like a karaage rice bowl, thank you.”

“Perfect,” the waitress beamed once more. “I’ll let Youta know right now.”

With that she hurried off in a flurry, making a beeline straight for the kitchen.

Once you were sure she was safely out if earshot, you turned to Iwaizumi.

“How often do you come here?” You teased. You couldn’t help it.

“More than I should,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “My wallet doesn’t thank me for it.”

You smiled, folding your hands in your lap.

“It reminds me of home,” he said quietly.

You didn’t know what to say to that. It’s a vulnerable statement, one that caught you off-guard. You felt like there was more to it, more woven between those words. Should you respond to what you thought was unsaid? Or to the simple statement he’d said out-loud?

You never knew what to do when it came to Iwaizumi.

“I’m glad you found it,” is what you settled on, your voice soft against the din of the restaurant. You meant it.

Iwaizumi smiled at you. “Me too.”

He was making an effort. A real, genuine effort to make this as smooth as possible.

And you were trying to return that energy, to help the two of you make this unfortunate arrangement work. But you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps this strange energy would hang over the two of you for the rest of the semester, until you found someone to escape with.

But God, was it hard.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Thanks for this,” you blushed, digging your hands into the fabric of the skirt.

“No problem,” Iwaizumi smiled.

Fall was in full swing as the two of you drove down the street, the air temperate enough as you made your way towards university. Iwaizumi had told you it wasn’t long until it got quite chilly.

“What class have you got?” He asked.

“Uh… PSYCH 9A,” you said. You were stuck firmly between excitement and dread, the conflicting emotions grappling for space in your heart. All your classes would be in English and while you certainly weren’t bad at it – you’d been one of the best in your grade – you knew that what was taught in a classroom was very different to what was actually used in practice.

“I did that last year,” he said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I did it as one of my general education courses.”

“Right,” you replied. The world flew by your window, a flurry of brown and green and beige. There was a lot to think about; too much, in your opinion. It was hard not to get caught up in all your anxieties, letting them eat away at you like a pack of rats.

“You worried?” Iwaizumi’s voice was far more understanding than it had any right to be.

You sighed, looking at the bag plopped between your feet. “I’m scared I won’t be able to keep up.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

You pressed your lips together, frowning. “If I fall behind in the first week, then…”

“You’ll pick it up quicker than you’d expect,” he smiled, “I promise.”

Most of your conversations over the past few days had been in English, per your request. Iwaizumi had complied. You were jealous of just how comfortable he seemed speaking the language. But the upside was that it’d only been a year for him. If he was already this good, then perhaps you could be, too.

“If you need help, just ask,” he said. He’d been saying that a lot recently.

You bit your lip, your gaze still turned towards the floor.

You couldn’t deny that he had, in fact, been exceptional. Anything you needed, he provided. Any question you had, he answered.

He’d helped you find your way around, showed you the best (and cheapest) places to hang out at, recommended the best dictionary apps, and he’d made you dinner every night.

He was looking after you. Well.

Perhaps that was why Tooru had been so keen on the idea of the two of you living together. If only he knew…

The car slowed to a stop. You jumped, too lost in your own thoughts to realise what was going on. Your head flew up, looking around like a meerkat.

Iwaizumi unbuckled himself and got out of the car, leaving you alone. You leant down and grabbed your bag, placing it in your lap.

Deep breath, you thought. You can do this.

Your door opened.

Iwaizumi was holding it open for you. Of course he was.

Part of you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d laid out a bloody carpet for you so you didn’t have to worry about the dirt.

You gave him a little nod of thanks as you got out of the car and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Oh. Oh.

“Well, this is it,” he said, gesturing to the cluster of buildings that laid before you.

It looked so clean, a concrete forest of russet. And it was so big. So ludicrously big.

How many people were here? How many people could fit on this campus? How easy was it to get lost? Just how many classrooms were there?

Seijoh had felt big to you, once. Now it seemed like just a blip.

“Where’s your class?” Iwaizumi asked, closing the door.

“Uh…” You fished your phone out of your pocket, showing him your timetable.

He looked at it for a moment before nodding. “Follow me.”

You scurried after him, trying to take stock of your surroundings as best you could. It was all so different – so big, so official, so… grown-up. This was certainly a place you could get lost in; would you even see most of it in the next four years? That seemed impossible.  

Iwaizumi walked slowly, letting you take your time. You said nothing as you ambled on, your mind racing. What did the inside of all these buildings look like? Which ones would your classes be in? What sorts of people would be in your classes? Would you make friends? Would you get a boyfriend?

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice had that gentle firmness it always had when he was scolding Tooru.

“Hm?” You looked at him, a little confused.

“We’re here,” he nodded towards a big building to your left. You weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to distinguish it yourself if you’d been left to your own bearings.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. “You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I remember being intimidated by campus when I first came here. It’s easy to get lost, especially when you’re not fluent in English.”

That much was true. You were speaking to each other in Japanese, after all.

“Right…” You nodded.

“Good luck,” he nodded in return, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small bow. It doesn’t feel like enough of the thanks for the last week.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “You don’t have to do that here.”

You straightened up and blinked at him. “Right.”

“Will you be able to get back alright?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said, with a little too much confidence. In all honesty, you have no idea if you could – something to do with buses, probably.

You couldn’t keep relying on Iwaizumi like this. It’s not that you’re humiliated, per se, but more that you didn’t want to be a burden.

You could do this. You could grab this new life of yours by the throat and take control.

But you also couldn’t ignore the hammering in your chest as you took your first steps into your undergraduate career.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Sorry about this,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as you slipped into the passenger’s seat.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a warm smile. Somehow he even managed to make the interior lighting of his car seem flattering.

You’d managed to make your way home on public transport well enough for the first few days, but all of your classes had finished before three in the afternoon.

Tonight’s class finished at six. The idea of trying to navigate your way back to the apartment had been more nerve-wracking than you could bear.

Your first instinct had been to call Iwaizumi.

A small irritation scratched at the back of your mind. It felt independence had just been in reach, tantalisingly close. But all of that bravery had ended up being an illusion. That’s how you felt, at least.

You bit back a sigh, gazing out the window.

The streetlights cast a warm glow on the pavement as a few students ambled along, rapt in conversation. Occasionally, their faces would light up with laughter – a cruel yet unintentional reminder that your own social life had been dead on arrival.

But you’re happy for these people, at least; loneliness was probably the hardest burden you’d had to bear so far. And you were living with the Iwaizumi Hajime.  

“How was your first week?” He asked.

“I’m doing okay,” you admitted. “Sometimes I don’t get what they’re saying, but… the lecture slides make it easier to follow along.” It got a little easier with each class, but you had the suspicion that it would take a while for you to properly adapt.

“Are your lecturers nice?”

You nodded. “Thankfully.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “And your classmates?”

You shook your head. “I haven’t spoken to any of them. Too scared.”

“Ah…” He was silent for a moment, seemingly turning something over in his head.

“What about you?” You asked, desperate to shift the attention away from your failed social life.

“It’s going well,” he nodded. “I’ve been able to get into the rhythm of it pretty quickly.”

“Good,” you smiled.

It’s understandable enough. He’d had a year to get used to the whole university thing.

How long was it going to take you? Were you ever going to get used to it? Or had this whole move been a big mistake, a risk you shouldn’t’ve taken just to prove you could do it?

You looked up at the sky. The stars weren’t as clear or bright as they were in Miyagi. You always looked up when you and Tooru walked home of an evening, after those long practice sessions he insisted on doing. Or when you and Amaya walked to either of your houses for a sleepover as she pointed at different constellations and told you the stories behind them.

Home felt so far away.

Would you ever feel like you belonged here?

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmured.

“Hm?”

“Is it okay if I have some friends over tomorrow?”

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t sure why.

People you didn’t know in your house… It felt silly, finding it so scary.

But you weren’t going to deny him his social life.

“Sure,” you answered.

“Cool,” he breathed. He sounded genuinely relieved.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were sure he was asking to be polite, but the guilt had already seeded itself in your mind. Did he really feel like he couldn’t have people over because you were there? Granted, it’d only been a week. Maybe he thought you weren’t quite settled yet.

God, why’d he have to go and be so considerate? He really was setting the standard too high.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” He asked.

“I’m fine with anything,” you shrugged.

The least you could do in return for all the help he’d given you was be a respectful roommate.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of people engaging in conversation outside your room made your stomach swell.

A few hours ago, Iwaizumi had asked you if you’d like to introduce yourself to his friends. You’d agreed – it would probably do you some good to actually meet some people. He’d said they were all Japanese exchange students themselves, so communication shouldn’t be a problem.

Although, that didn’t make it any less stressful.

You took a deep breath, reaching for your door handle.

You could do this. You just needed to get over the awkward introduction.

The sound of laughter heightened as you pushed your door open, allowing yourself to catch sight of the small group gathered in the living room.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi waved at you, smile on his face and beer in hand.

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding a hand up in greeting.

His friends turned to look at you. You recognized some of the faces from the photos on the wall. Three guys, two girls.

“Hello!” One of the girls called out to you with a wave.

You nodded at her with a smile, taking a few tentative steps towards the group.

“This is Ren,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to a guy with wavy black hair and bright eyes. He’s far too pretty to meet without a warning.

“Taiki,” Iwaizumi gestured to the boy standing to the left of Ren. He had close-cropped hair and muscles that almost gave Iwaizumi some competition. Almost.

“Mei.” She had long red hair and an enviable sense of style. She looked like the sort of girl you’d be terrified of approaching in high school, simply because she was far too cool for you.

“Haruto.” The guy with the kind smile and brown hair so soft you wanted to touch it. There’s something about him that almost reminds you of Tooru – if Tooru wasn’t such a brat.

“And Yuna.” The other girl, with a brown bob and such sharp eyeliner that you couldn’t help but wonder how stable her hand must be when applying it.

You felt a little embarrassed, just standing there in your lounge clothes; thank God it’s wasn’t your pyjamas, but they’re certainly not clothes you’d wear on a fun outing somewhere.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you blushed, looking at the floor.

A chorus of ‘you too’s erupted from the group, much louder than you’d expected. You managed to supress the urge to flinch.

“What’re your plans?” You asked.

“Oh, we’ll just be playing some board games,” Ren said, waving a hand at you.

“Right,” you nodded. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting. They all had some kind of beer in hand, so you might’ve expected something a bit more… rowdy. But, you weren’t complaining.

“You should join us!” One of the girls – Yuna, was it? – smiled at you, the expression illuminating her entire face.

You considered it for a moment, each pro and con rushing through your head at lightning speed. You didn’t want to be rude, and it would be nice to spend some time with people other than Iwaizumi…

But they were his friends. Wouldn’t you be intruding? You didn’t want to just barge in and expect to be included just because you happened to live with him.

Yet at the same time, Yuna was smiling at you so kindly. Turning her down would feel rude.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Yuna ushered you over towards the couches, sitting you down next to her. Mei sat on your other side, offering you an unbearably pretty smile.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“It’s this card game,” Haruto explained, “each card has a symbol on it, see?” He held two cards up for you to see. Sure enough, both cards had a yellow diamond on them.

You nodded.

“So, they each have a category on them,” he said. You looked between both cards. It took you a moment as they were English words, but one said ‘film’ and the other said ‘animal.’

“Mhm.”

“Now all the cards are placed in a deck in the middle, and on your turn, you take a card and place it face up. If the symbol matches another card on the table, then you need to call out a word that belongs in the category of the other card,” he explained.

You nodded slowly. “So… if I had the animal card and you had the film card, I’d need to call out a film?”

“Exactly right,” he smiled.

“You’ll pick it up as you go along,” Iwaizumi reassured.

“Do I have to say it in English?” You asked.

Haruto shook his head. “You can say something in English or Japanese. No stress.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Taiki barked. “I wanna start!”

Suffice to say you didn’t do particularly well for the first few rounds.

It took you a little longer than everyone else to translate the English to Japanese, but you did manage to secure a few wins. Although, that was mainly won off the backs of other people’s mistakes – Taiki, for example, yelled out ‘plant’ for the category of ‘vegetable’.

After the second round, you got up and headed to the kitchen, intent on getting yourself a drink of water.

You opened the fridge door as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb your guests. You grabbed the water jug, grimacing at how heavy it was.

When you closed it, Iwaizumi was standing right there.

“Fuck!” You jumped, a hand flying to your chest.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You glared at him for a second, only to give up as soon as your wrist started to ache.

“Are you doing alright?” He asked as you plunked the jug on the countertop.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening one of your cupboards and grabbing a cup. “Yuna’s really nice.”

“Okay, good,” he smiled. From the look on his face, you guessed that he was relieved. “Don’t feel pressured to stay out here,” he said.

“It’s okay, really,” you shook your head, pouring some water into your glass. Some splashed onto the counter despite your best efforts – and you didn’t even have the excuse of being tipsy.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, still smiling at you. His cheeks were a bit flushed; a key indicator that he was likely a handful of drinks away from ‘well and truly drunk.’

You held the water out to him instinctively. He took it from you, only for confusion to blossom across his face.

“Huh?”

“You should probably drink some,” you said, rather lost yourself. “So you don’t get a hangover.”

“Oh,” he swallowed. “Right.”

He brought the cup to his lips and tipped it back. You busied yourself with getting another glass – there was no way you were just going to stand there and watch him drink. God knew where your mind might go, and you didn’t like it.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Iwaizumi said, placing the now-empty cup back on the counter.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

Once you’d finally gotten your own cup of water (that you hadn’t handed to Iwaizumi for no good reason), you scampered back to the couch and settled down in your spot between Yuna and Mei.

They’d swapped the first card game out for another – the rules were that one person had a card with a word on it, and they had to try and explain it without using said word.

They cycled through a fair few games, burning through casket of beer after casket of beer. The hours burned on faster than you could keep track, but you didn’t mind. You were laughing too much to care.

“Oh, shit,” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

“Hm?” Taiki sniffed. His face was bright red, but he didn’t seem to care. “Is it Misaki?”

Iwaizumi nudged him with his knee as he grumbled something under his breath. Whether you liked it or not, the name Misaki was lodged firmly in the back of your brain.

“I was gonna say it’s three in the morning,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Oh,” Yuna gasped, whipping out her own phone. “Fuck.”

“Do buses even run this late?” Mei grimaced.

“I have no idea,” Yuna bit her lip, her brow creasing.

“You guys can crash here if you want,” Iwaizumi offered.

“All of us?” Mei raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don’t know about Yuna, but I don’t want to be snuggled up against any of these fools,” Mei grimaced, waving a hand at the three guys.

“What do you mean?” Ren whined.

“There’s only so much room on these couches,” Mei shrugged.

“I guess we can sleep on the floor,” Haruto mumbled.

“I’ve been told you snore,” Mei said.

“And?”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

Haruto scoffed. “How do you even know whether or not I snore?”

“Well, Maka—”

“Alright,” Haruto held his hands up, shaking his head.

An idea brewed in the back of your mind. It’s not a perfect solution, but it could certainly save any of them an early morning trek back to their own apartments.

You took a deep breath, trying to build up the confidence to speak up.

“The girls can stay in my room, if they’d like,” you said quietly.

Every head turned to face you. Yikes.

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Mhm!” You nodded, trying to look as enthusiastic as possible. “I don’t mind. And I can promise you I don’t snore,” you said, turning to Mei.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re an angel.”

You beamed at that little affirmation.

“I owe you one,” Iwaizumi grinned, ruffling your hair fondly. Your cheeks bloomed red; although, that didn’t really stand out amongst this bunch.

You nodded at him, turning on your tail and fleeing to your room.

The girls were already in there, inspecting the wall above your desk. You’d stuck some photos up the other day on a whim; a bunch of polaroids and four-by-sixes arranged in something that resembled a neat collage.

“These are so cute,” Yuna cooed, turning to pout at you.

“Thanks,” you giggled.

“Look at you!” She whined, pointing at a picture of your graduation. Amaya and another one of your friends stand either side of you, your smiles bright and brilliant as you each cradled a bouquet of flowers. It might only have been a few months ago, but you felt like you looked far younger.

“You’re adorable,” Mei pouted.

It felt a bit weird, having people you barely knew in your space like this. But this was at least an echo of the college experience, right? Two drunk girls calling you cute while you were strikingly sober… Sounded about right.

It kind of reminded you of all those sleepovers during your school years. There’s something comforting in that.

Yuna suddenly froze.

“Everything alright?” You asked, tensing up yourself.

“Who is that?” She hissed, pointing at a new photo.

You stepped forward to get a better look at who she was talking about.

Oh. Tooru.

It’s a photo you’d taken with him last winter, when he’d come back to Japan for a week. By that time, he’d gotten quite tanned, and he’d really bulked up. Whatever he was doing in Argentina, it was paying off. Although, you could do without his bragging.

“That’s my brother,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t mean any ill will; you were just quite used to girls asking you about your brother. Usually, you just told them they could do much better.

Yuna gaped at you. “Your brother?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “He’s currently in Argentina.” You didn’t really know what else to say.

“That’s not that far away,” Mei mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’s still like… a twenty-hour flight away,” you giggled.

“But it’s closer than Japan,” Mei tsked.

“If your brother ever comes to visit,” Yuna said calmly, “let us know.”

You were about to respond when Yuna gasped loudly.

“Is that Hajime?” She hissed, pointing at another photo.

It’s one from Tooru’s graduation, this time. It’s also the only photo of Iwaizumi on your wall. Makki and Mattsun are also in it, grinning brilliantly as they held Tooru in a headlock. You were at the side, laughing at your brother, as Iwaizumi watched the scene fondly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “He’s best friends with my brother.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Mei cooed. “Why didn’t he ever tell us that his best friend looked like that?”

“You never looked at the photos out in the living room?” You asked.

“Oh,” Mei blinked. “Well, it looks like a bunch of men from far away, so I wasn’t interested.”

“I didn’t even realise there were photos in the front room,” Yuna mumbled.  

You giggled again, shaking your head. You had no idea how you were going to get these two to settle and go to bed, but you’re pretty sure you don’t regret letting them stay here.

This was the most fun you’d had ever since you landed in California.

✧ ✧ ✧

You’d balked when Iwaizumi had first promised to ‘teach you’ how to go grocery shopping.

But standing in the middle of the Asian Grocer, surrounded by more cuts of meat than you could ever conceive, you realised that it was wise to listen to what he had to say.

You’d spent an absurd amount of time going through each isle as Iwaizumi pointed out the bargains – many of which had to do with bulk buying – and discussing what the cheapest version of each item was, and when it was best to sacrifice cost for quality.  

“Oh, by the way,” he said, interrupting your intense observation of the swath of shaved pork staring at you from the freezer.

You turned to look at him expectantly.

“I didn’t say thanks for letting Yuna and Mei stay in your room.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry for putting that on you,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect everyone to stay so late.”

“I said it’s fine,” you chuckled. “I offered. And I wouldn’t have felt good about them all heading home that early in the morning.”

Iwaizumi smiled at you softly for a moment.

You swallowed, turning back to the meat. “They seem nice,” you said. You weren’t sure what else you were supposed to say.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah. Taiki can be a brat though.”

“More or less of a brat than Tooru?” You grinned.

“Oh, less,” Iwaizumi answered immediately.

You giggled, opening the freezer and grabbing a random Styrofoam pallet of meat. You’d spent far too long in this section; long enough that you were getting cold.

“Where’d you meet them?” You asked, putting the pallet in the basket slung over Iwaizumi’s forearm.

“Uh, Taikiis from the gym. The others are from the Japanese Students Association.”

Your ears perked up at that. “The Japanese Students Association?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s where I met most of my friends, actually.”

“Really?”

“It’s much easier than making friends in your classes,” he smiled.

You chewed on your cheek for a moment. Admittedly, the whole ‘making friends in class’ plan wasn’t going well for you. There was hardly any time to properly socialise, and you never knew when it was okay to strike up a conversation. Maybe if you were still in Japan, you’d have an easier time navigating this torrid new social landscape.

But you just didn’t know what was considered rude or weird or even creepy here.

“You should join,” he suggested. When you caught his eye, he was already looking at you, a touch of concern on his brow.

“You think?”

“It’s a good way of getting to know people,” he shrugged. “I joined when I felt lonely last year.”

The words hit you harder than you thought they would. “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “Anyway, they’re having a party soon.”

“Are they?”

He nodded. “To ‘kick off’ the semester or something. It’s really just an excuse to get shit-faced.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“That’s what all uni parties are for,” he grinned.

You considered it for a moment.

A party… you’d never really been to one before. Not an Americanised party, anyway. Not one where everyone got absurdly drunk.

Alone, surrounded by unfamiliar drunk people, in a city you don’t know…

Your stomach lurched.

You wanted to be brave. You wanted to put yourself out there. But the thought did nothing but make your skin crawl. Maybe you were just being paranoid, but it sounded dangerous.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asked.

You blinked up at him. “Oh, yeah, I…” You turned your attention to the floor. “I just don’t think I’ll go.”

“Why not?”

“I think I’d just feel…” You paused for a moment, trying to think of the mildest way to say what you were feeling. “I think I’d feel a little uncomfortable.”

You braved a glance at him.

He was pressing his lips together, a thoughtful frown on his face.

A knot of guilt twisted in your stomach. You were making him worry again. That’s all you seemed to have done since you’d been here. You knew he’d offered to live with you, but it’s like you’ve been nothing but a burden ever since you’d arrived.

And you hated that more than anything. You hated making him worry. You hated giving him reason for concern. All because you couldn’t go to a stupid party on your own.

“I could come with you, if you’d like.”

His offer surprised you.

Maybe you should’ve expected him to say something like that. And usually, the thought of going to a party with him would make you feel like you wanted to throw up.

But you’d survived the past few weeks. And Iwaizumi looked like that. No weird asshole was going to try and approach you or make you feel uncomfortable if he was standing next to you.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you said sheepishly.

Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

There was a knock on your door.

“What?” You yelled. Maybe you were being dramatic. But you certainly felt like you had the right to be.

“Can I talk to you?”

You bit your cheek. You didn’t have the emotional fortitude to look him in the eyes. But…

“Fine,” you sighed. “But you have to stay out there.”

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate.

You sat up, sitting cross-legged on your mattress. “What do you want?”

There was an uneasy silence – the kind that made you want to crawl out of your own skin.

“You said I broke your heart.” You barely heard him. His voice was so low, so uncertain.

You didn’t know how to read his tone. Surprise? Regret? Confusion?

No. Fuck his feelings. He hadn’t given a damn about yours.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

“I—”

“What did you think would happen when you kissed me and then told me to pretend it never happened?” Your voice was barely below a yell.

They were words fuelled by rage. Maybe you’d regret them in the morning. But in that moment, you didn’t give a shit.

“You knew I had feelings for you and you just—you just—” Your breath caught in your throat, choking you. You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Hajime,” you hissed, the words dripping with vitriol.

You hadn’t thought it through. It was just what you felt; raw, honest, angry. It was a revelation to yourself just as much as it might be to him.

“I know.”

There was no frustration in his words. Just pure, simple acceptance.

“I was stupid.” His voice was almost illegible through the door. You knew that tone. It was the one he adopted whenever he was being sincere – something he struggled with outside of the odd frustrated outburst. “I… I should’ve talked to you about it instead of just making a decision for you.”

“Exactly.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, drawing your knees up to your chest.

Everything was so muddled. You’d been wanting to hear those words – you deserved those words.

You’d never known how to ask for them. If it hadn’t been for the weird tension tonight, you might never have heard them.

But were they worth it?

“I shouldn’t have behaved like that,” he said. “That was a mistake.”

“Good,” you sniffed.

In all honesty, you’d expected him to bite back after your outburst. He’s fiery, a tempest that’s easily stoked. But his words were so calm, so full of awareness.  

He’d been thinking about this for a while, hadn’t he?

The realisation gave you less satisfaction than you’d hoped.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said. He meant it. “If this… arrangement makes you uncomfortable, I’m happy to find somewhere else to live. And I’ll deal with finding you a new roommate.”

Your blood ran cold. What was he talking about?

How was that his solution to this problem?

“I… I’m angry with you,” you admitted. “But… but I don’t want to stop living with you.”

The weight of the contradiction burned through your skull. Honestly, you’d been angry with him for a while. The resentment had never really dissipated. Not as much as you’d believed it had.

But it was like he’d been trying to make up for everything since the beginning. Or, maybe he’s just a good guy. That in itself seemed like an apology.

God, why’d he have to go and be so likeable?

“Look, Hajime, I…” What did you even want to say? What could you say? “I… I… I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he said softly. “Take your time.”

You sighed, stretching your legs out and flopping back on your mattress.

It felt like you were supposed to say something.

But there was too much to say. And yet, there was too little.

“If you want to talk, let me know,” Iwaizumi said after a long moment.

The sound of footsteps faded away, leaving you with an uncomfortable silence.

He was gone.

You bit your cheek, clenching your fists at your sides.

How could everything go to shit so quickly?

All he’d done was act a bit bratty. Well, ‘bratty’ was an understatement. He’d been acting like a little shit.  

But had it really warranted your outburst?

If you asked Amaya, she’d say ‘yes, absolutely!’ She’d probably tell you that you’d gone soft on him. Maybe she was right.

But it felt like there was more nuance to it. Or, maybe you just wished that was the case.

He’d apologised.

He’d said he regretted treating you the way he had back then.  

But he hadn’t said he regretted kissing you.

Albeit, maybe that wasn’t on his mind. But it felt like an important omission. He hadn’t said “I shouldn’t have done it,” or “I regret it.” The act itself wasn’t the problem.

It could be wishful thinking. You wanted him to not regret kissing you. Especially when the two of you were getting so close. Especially when you could feel your resolve to not fall into the same trap as two and a half years ago crumbling away.

And he’d been jealous. Of Kohei.

Jealous.

Did that mean…

You sat up, swinging your legs off the bed and planting your feet on the ground.

Your heart was thrumming in your chest, an insatiable, excited rhythm that you felt all through your body. It was like your brain was pulsing, a whirlwind of thoughts rushing through.

Were you sweating? Everything was so confusing, so real and yet so unbelievable, a cacophony of confusion and—

Your feet moved before you could register it.

There you were, standing in front of his room. What did you want to say? What did you want to do?

Your mind was blank. You were running on pure instinct and nothing else.

A knock on his door.

“Hey, Hajime?” You called.

“Hm?” His response didn’t give much away.

“Can I come in?”

A very long silence.

“Sure.”

Your hand lingered on the doorknob for a moment, nervous. For what, you weren’t sure.

You took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

He’s laid out on his bed in the lamplight, the warm glow cast flatteringly across his face.

You bit your lip, your mind racing with a myriad of jumbled thoughts that you were too tired to decipher.

“I… want to try something,” you swallowed, clenching your fists.

Iwaizumi frowned, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Deep breaths, you thought.

It was a stupid idea. A reckless one. But it’d buried itself deep, seeping into your bones.

You walked over to him slowly, each step its own ordeal. You stopped in front of him, an arm’s length away.

“You can say no,” you murmured.

Confusion rippled across Iwaizumi’s face as his eyebrows drew together.

His expression reflected exactly how you felt. But it was too late to back out now; that would only confuse things even more.

You cupped his face with trembling hands.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as he gazed up at you, the confusion crumbling away to reveal something else. Something vulnerable.

He didn’t move away. You lingered for what felt like an eternity, but he didn’t pull back, didn’t tell you to stop.

He didn’t say no.

You swallowed roughly, your heart beating so hard you felt like it might burst through your chest.

This was stupid. Unbelievably stupid.

But you leant forward.

His eyes fluttered shut.

And you kissed him.

It was gentle, even reserved. But it was a kiss.

Warm, soft, gentle. Those were the only words to describe it. Iwaizumi leant into it, sending a jolt through your body. It was more a question than a kiss; a challenge, even. Nothing else mattered. Just this moment. This gesture.

You drew back slowly, finally ending the kiss. Iwaizumi leant forward with you for a moment, as if he didn’t want it to end.

He was staring at you with half-lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed red. You bent down to his ear, letting your lips brush against the shell.

“Do you want to pretend that never happened?” You whispered, the heat emanating from him almost overwhelming.

A moment of excruciating silence.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you forward onto his lap. You buckled against him, grabbing his shoulders in an effort to stabilize yourself.

You blinked at him, your bravado dissipating as you realised just how close you were.

He was staring again, his eyes glinting with something close to hunger.

Was he waiting for permission? Rejection?

He plunged forward, capturing your lips in a rough, eager kiss. You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. That was different.

“Fuck no,” he growled against your lips, his hands sliding from your hips to your back.

You sighed, leaning into him.

This was what you’d wanted all along. Being friends with him was fine. Nice, even.

But there was no way you and Iwaizumi could be ‘just friends’.

You wanted all of him.

And he was eager to give it to you.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“They should be ready,” Iwaizumi murmured. His breath tickled over the outer shell of your ear, yet another reminder of just how close you were.

“Stop doing that,” you whined, tilting your head away from him.

“Doing what?” He grinned.

You pouted as you poked at the eggs sizzling away in the pan with your slotted spatula.

Iwaizumi knew what he was doing. There’s no way he didn’t.

‘Let’s make breakfast,’ he’d said. You’d agreed on the promise – or more aptly put, the insistence – that you get some good food into you.

He’d failed to explain that ‘making breakfast’ meant frying eggs while a shirtless Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around your waist and propped his chin on your shoulder.

Sure, you were ‘together’ now, but that didn’t stop it from being a tad overwhelming. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, or that you didn’t want any of this to happen. It just still felt a bit like a daydream – a place you would’ve let your mind wander back in second year.

But it wasn’t a daydream, and it certainly wasn’t your second year of high school.

You weren’t going to let yourself lose all of this just because you couldn’t believe that it was really – finally – happening.

“You alright?” Iwaizumi asked, squeezing your waist gently.

“Hm?” You blinked yourself back to the present, hastily sliding the spatula under one egg that was turning suspiciously crispy at the sides. Thank God Iwaizumi liked his eggs well-done.

“You spaced out for a second there,” he said, a familiar troubled lilt to his voice.

“I’m tired,” you pouted as you slid the egg onto a plate.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled. His chest rumbled against your back, reminding you once again that this was real. This was happening.

No, you weren’t used to it just yet. It was going to take a while.

“You should be,” you huffed.

“Although, I remember you saying you’d slept well.”

“Did I?” You said, voice perfectly innocent. “I don’t remember saying that.”

Iwaizumi laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. A shiver rippled through your body like an electric shock.

‘What am I going to do with you…” He murmured, nuzzling his head into your shoulder with a contented sigh.

You swallowed roughly, trying to calm your nerves.

Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid face and his stupid broad shoulders and strong arms and his stupid husky voice and—

This is the first time you’ve thought that without the obligatory guilt. Usually, you’d berate yourself for letting your imagination wander that far into dangerous territory. But it’s okay now. Because things are different. You’re… well, you’re something.

It’s this strange in-between, something you haven’t given shape to. You’re ‘together’ now, but what does that mean? Do labels matter? Should you be worried about how Iwaizumi saw the two of you?

A familiar yet unwelcome smell brought you back to the present.

“You’re gonna burn your egg,” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, hastily sliding your spatula underneath it. The egg fell flat on the pan as you tried to lift it up, the yolk spilling out and hardening on the cheap cast iron.

You let out a little whine, frustrating bubbling up in your stomach.

“I can have that one,” Iwaizumi hummed, one hand coming up to cover yours and guide the spatula back to the pan.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, letting him do all the work. With Iwaizumi’s help, you transported the egg to the plate with no further casualties.

You stared down at your work with derision. You’ve certainly done better. Although, you wouldn’t make a testament to your own cooking skills while Iwaizumi was in your presence.

But if he’s going to tease you about it, he makes no indication. He just hugged your waist tighter, his arms tensing around you.

He was so warm, so comforting.

He also seemed to only be half-awake. Although you couldn’t blame him. It was almost idyllic; a warm Saturday morning with nothing to do.

You usually spent days like this alone, wondering if you’d ever get over Iwaizumi Hajime. 

But not anymore.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Are you sure you wanna do it now?” Iwaizumi asked gently.

“Hm?” You blinked at him, something twisting in your stomach.

The two of you sat on the couch, Iwaizumi’s phone sitting on the coffee table with the same dour presence as an open casket.

You’d tried to ignore the lingering guilt hanging off your shoulders all day. You really had.

But after a day of doing not much of anything, you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Neither could Iwaizumi.

“Do we… want some time?”

“Time?”

It’s like you’re seventeen again, fresh-faced and innocent, about to have your heart broken by a boy you’d revered like a teen idol.

“He’s probably going to be pissed,” Iwaizumi said. “Do you need some time to prepare for that?”

Oh.

You’d expected him to say something far more wishy-washy; something about how you’d – or rather, he’d – need time to know if this was what he really wanted, only to string you along for a few weeks before deciding once again that you weren’t worth the trouble.

“Do you need some time to prepare?” You asked, your gut now churning. You’d known that this’d be scary, but the severity of it is still unsettling. You were just going to call your brother. That shouldn’t be scary – a bit nerve-wracking, maybe, but not scary. Not frightening enough to make your stomach collapse in on itself.

Iwaizumi paused, pressing his lips together.

What was he going to say? Was he going to back out? Was he going to tell you that this wasn’t worth it? Was he—

“No,” Iwaizumi said, shaking his head. “The longer we keep it a secret, the more guilty I’ll feel.”

Your heart stammered. Was he… was he actually going to go through with it this time?

You clenched your fists in your lap. God, why’d this have to be so complicated? And why couldn’t you just get over what happened all those years ago? You were still anxious, wondering if Iwaizumi was going to leave you in the lurch, if he’d choose Tooru’s feelings over yours without a second thought, if he’d—

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmured, reaching over and taking your hand. “I’m not running away this time.”

He brought your knuckles to his lips and graced them with a gentle kiss. “I promise.”

Your words die in your throat.

You want to say something in response – anything, really. But you can’t. Nothing comes out. If there was a right thing to say, you didn’t know it.

Everything was different. Everything had changed.

This wasn’t the Iwaizumi you’d had your heart broken by.

He was a man now, all grown up.

“Should we call him on my phone?” Iwaizumi asked. “He’ll be angrier at me, so I should bare the brunt of it.”

Guilt twisted in your stomach – an old friend of yours, apparently. He was right. Tooru would definitely kick up the biggest stink with Iwaizumi; he’d probably invoke the ‘bro code’ or something like that or call him a bad friend for ‘taking advantage’ of his sister.

That wasn’t happening. You would fight Tooru on that one. But Tooru was unlikely to see it that way. Especially not at first; not when the fire was hot.

“We can call him on mine,” you murmured, the image of Tooru’s furious face sitting ill at ease in your mind.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “Nah. I’m the one he instructed to ‘keep boys away from’ you,” he smiled softly. “I don’t think this is what he meant.”

You blushed, capturing your lower lip between your teeth.

There could be rage directed your way. Something vague about ‘stealing his best friend’, probably. Was Tooru still that childish? Was he still prone to being petty? Or had his time in Argentina changed that?

“Let’s get it over and down with,” Iwaizumi sighed, opening his phone with his thumb.

You watched in abject silence and he flipped through his contacts, Tooru’s name sticking out like a stain on a white blouse.

Iwaizumi glanced at you, giving a decisive nod. You just nodded back, completely at a loss for words.

He pressed Tooru’s name and the phone sprung to life, each ring taking approximately three years off your lifespan.

No putting this off now.

“Iwa!” Oikawa’s sing-song voice bounced through the phone, joyful and naïve.

It filled you with dread.

It wasn’t right, having your brother’s voice strike fear through you. But at this point, it’s just another part of this comedy of errors.

You and Iwaizumi exchanged a look.

There’s such resolve in his eyes – a promise, finally, that he’ll stand by your side in this. That he’ll fight for the right to be part of your life in all the ways you both want. That this time, he won’t run.

You reached out and took his hand. It was a little clammy – perhaps the only indication of how nervous he really was.

“Hey, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi swallowed, his face a tad paler than usual. “We have something to tell you.”

Chapter Text

“We?” Tooru chuckled, a familiar playful lilt to his voice.

“Hello,” you piped up before he had time to tease Iwaizumi about who ‘we’ might be.

“Ah!” The phone burst with joy, a pleasant tinkle to the way Oikawa called your name.

Your stomach plummeted.

“So, what’s up?” Tooru sighed. “You’re not about to tell me that you need to borrow some money, are you?”

“When have I ever asked you for money?” You grumbled, your free hand teasing the fabric of your pyjama shorts between your fingers. God, it’s too normal; a typical back-and-forth between siblings.

It was a strange contrast to the dread settling in your gut.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Tooru chirped. Blissfully unaware. You were almost envious.

You braved a glance at Iwaizumi. His jaw was taut, his lips pressed thin.

You tightened your grip around his hand, as if you were trying to instil a modicum of strength into him.

“Yeah, well…” Iwaizumi cleared his throat, blinking a little faster than usual.

“You sound so grim,” Tooru chuckles. “Come on then, out with it.”

Iwaizumi’s face turned a shade paler, his jaw taut.

This was hard for him. That much was obvious.

But he was trying.

And it was as hard for him as it was for you.

Everything within you stung, a tempest of nettles and thorns that refused to give you any respite. You’d been doing this – whatever this was, whatever Iwaizumi was ready to call this fondness between you – behind Tooru’s back for so long now.

High school. Years of bitterness. Downplaying just how much you hurt in order to maintain peace. A peace which you’d shattered with your own hands, on your own volition, when you had every opportunity not to.

But what’s done is done. You weren’t about to make the same mistakes you had in high school.

You had to tell him. You had to assert yourself, to show him that you matter too. That Iwaizumi meant something to you. That you meant something to him.

“We’re dating.”

It blurted out of your mouth with all the clumsiness and inelegance of a newborn foal. You just wanted to get it out, to shift the horrible tightness in your chest, to breathe out the burning in your gut.

Deathly silence followed.

It was worse than you’d feared.

Tooru was never silent. Whenever he was, it meant something bad had happened. Stagnation. Rejection. Fury.

Those were the only things that could render Tooru silent.

You wondered if you should fill the space with something else. But, there was nothing to say.

All this tension, all this discontent, stripped naked in two words.

“Is this a joke?” Tooru’s voice was a razor, thin and sharp and cold. “Because it’s not very funny.”

Your brother had never spoken to you like this. You’ve heard him talk about other people in this voice – a certain Kageyama Tobio comes to mind – but the ire had never been directed at you before.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

God, you just wished you wouldn’t take it all so seriously – why did this matter so much? Why was it causing you so much stress? What was wrong with y—

“It’s not,” Iwaizumi said. “She’s telling you the truth.”

He no longer had a ghostly pallor. A familiar crease lined his brow. You realised, not without a hint of irony, that it’s the look he always had in the middle of one of his high school games. That was when his tenacity always shone through the most.

“I asked you to keep an eye on her, not fuck her,” Tooru hissed.

It was like everything you knew gave way beneath you, like the thin ground above a pit in one of those adventure movies.

You weren’t you anymore. You were her. Not a person on your own accord, but something to be coddled, ‘protected’, prevented from making their own decisions.

A grievance.

“That’s out of line!” Iwaizumi’s voice boomed, speckled with rage. “Don’t talk about your sister like that!”

“Don’t tell me how I can or can’t talk about her!” Tooru’s voice was just as sharp, just as blue-hot. “She’s my sister, you, you—”

“I’m right here, Tooru,” you hissed, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting. What were you, a doll? A pet? A cup of fine china that had to be handled with care?

You were an adult, a woman, and Tooru needed to—

“You stay out of this,” he barked.

“No!”

The word scratched against your throat like gravel. You sounded like a petulant child – something you’d told yourself to avoid in this call.

But that was all Tooru saw you as – a child who couldn’t make her own choices. A child that needed to be protected.

The horrible realisation comes to you with an underwhelming mundanity.

Tooru didn’t see you as an individual. Not in the way you wanted him to. You were just his baby sister, silly and stupid and easily misled.

“Don’t talk about me like that!” Everything you wanted to say was gone, no matter how desperately you tried to wrangle them. Any well-thought out defence, or explanation, or appeal to his reason… all of it, gone.

A pressure was building in your head, angry and persistent. You felt like you were going to explode, spluttering out of your seams. It was all slipping away from you too fast, running like water through your hands.

“I don’t want to hear anything out of you!” Tooru yelled. “You should know better than to fuck around with my friends!”

“My feelings matter too!” You shouted back. “You don’t own Hajime—”

“Oh, Hajime?” Tooru scoffed. “Jesus Christ…”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, every inch of your skin burning. This was the worst possible outcome. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this. Nothing at all.

“You don’t get to control who I do and don’t date,” you said, a waver running through your words.

“You know what? I’m not having this conversation.”

“Tooru—”

The end tone blared out its steady march.

He was gone.

It was over before it’d even begun.

The silence enveloped you like a shroud, dank and oppressive and suffocating.

Tooru hadn’t even given you a chance to explain yourself. Not properly. He’d just shouted.

He’d never shouted at you before – not properly. Sure, there were petty fights over meaningless things neither of you could remember, but there’d never been a true falling out.

But there you sat, an ache in your chest that felt wholly unfamiliar. A new kind of aloneness, an isolation wholly different from anything you’d felt before. It wasn’t like getting your heart broken by the boy you had a ridiculously big crush on. It wasn’t like moving to a whole new country, throwing yourself into a perilous unknown.

No, this was a new pain, one you didn’t know how to name. The insurmountable rift had grown even wider. Now there was no chance of reaching him.

Your chest ached with how tight it was, your eyes stung with a startling ferociousness, your head pounded to the rhythm of your racing thoughts—

“Hajime—”

His arms encircled you as you croaked out his name. He pulled you towards him and pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. You let yourself fall against his chest, your cheek coming to rest against the soft cotton of his shirt. He was warm, like he always was. Firm, warm, steady.

He was safe. You were safe.

You let the tears bubble out. You needed it. All that fretting, all that waiting, only for it to turn out like this? Maybe you were just the punching bag in some great cosmic joke. Something so trivial, so human, causing this much strife…

For the first time in your life, you envied all those people out there with distant relationships with their siblings – even the ones who regarded their blood relatives with contempt. At least, then, it wouldn’t feel so much like you were the one holding the knife. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be tearing yourself apart from the inside out over something you shouldn’t even feel guilty about in the first place.

God, this was so stupid. And Hajime… poor Hajime…

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. But you knew. You knew he would hold good on his promise. He wouldn’t run away this time.

He hadn’t.

Your heart was breaking all over again.

But this time, you weren’t alone.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Try as you might, you just couldn’t pay attention to your lecture.

The lecturer droned on in the archetypal slow drawl, slowly clicking through their powerpoint for each new point. Thank God they had the decency to upload the PDF after the lecture – you’d just take all the important notes from that.

Getting back to some sense of normalcy, back to the thrum of everyday life, was supposed to take your mind off things. But it didn’t. Tooru, Hajime, the whole damn mess – it still wavered in the back of your mind, flickering in and out of conscious thought.

It was almost impossible to ignore.

“Give him time,” Iwaizumi had said, exhausted. “It’s up to him now.”

He was right. You knew that. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your phone buzzed in your lap. Frowning, you looked down and turned the screen upwards.

Everything stopped. Your eyes shot wide, your heart beating erratically to the tempo of the ringing.

You gathered your things up in an instant and fled from the lecture hall as unobtrusively as possible, hands trembling as you jabbed at the ‘answer call’ icon.

The girls’ bathroom seemed to be empty as you rushed through the doors and sought out the closest cubicle. You held the phone up to your ear as you sat down on the toilet lid, breathless.

“Hello?”

A silence answered you. Had you been too late? Just missed it? Would it be amiss to call back immed—

“Hey.” Tooru’s voice was tight, sharp, unfamiliar.

“Hey,” you echoed, a queasy uneasiness settling in your stomach. Why was he calling you now? Why hadn’t he warned you?

You hadn’t been given any time to prepare.

Maybe he’d done that on purpose. Maybe he was trying to catch you off-guard.

“Did you… did you want to talk?” You asked.

Some part of you still wanted to fight, to get all scrappy and shout again. You didn’t want to grovel, to beg him for forgiveness, to rebuke anything you’d said prior.

But you didn’t want to throw this all away, either. He’s still your brother; even if he’s a brat, even if he’s selfish, even if he’s inconsiderate.

“Yeah,” he swallowed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, totally at a loss of what to say next.

God, this was so awkward. You’d never had this much trouble talking to your brother before. Well, trouble, maybe, but discomfort… It’s almost worse than the anger. At least there’s something to say during the fire. There’s just ash in the aftermath.

“I just…” Tooru sighed. You could visualise him gripping his hair with frustration, or touching his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ah.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

If you’d just said something all those years ago, maybe you could’ve avoided this entire debacle. But how were you supposed to know? You didn’t know anything when you were in high school.

You hadn’t known that you’d be sitting in your university’s bathroom, halfway across the world from home, feeling like you were about to spew your guts out because the thought of talking to your brother terrified you so damn much.

The only time you’d ever been scared of Tooru was when Hajime was involved. But scared of what?  

“I… I thought you’d be mad,” you mumbled.

It sounded silly now. Scared of Tooru? Scared of your own damn brother? Pathetic.

But you weren’t the only one.

“And Iwaizumi, he…” It was all a blur, but you could remember one thing. The fear of disapproval.

Iwaizumi had been terrified that Tooru would disapprove. Worst of all, he’d been afraid that Tooru would misunderstand it all.

“He told me that one of the other guys on the team asked about me,” you said quietly, “and that you got really mad.”

Tooru laughed. “What, he thought I’d disapprove of him just because I didn’t want Yahaba getting anywhere near my sister?”

“I heard you got pretty mad,” you mumbled. In truth, you were still kind of pissed about that. Tooru had no say in who you did and didn’t date – much less who had a right to a relationship with you.

Although, you felt you’d made that much clear the last time you’d spoken to him.

“And let me guess,” Tooru sighed after a long moment, “Iwaizumi didn’t want to create a big mess and pit us against each other and break a bunch of hearts.”

“Mhm,” you nodded slowly.

“Sounds about right…” Tooru grumbled.

“He also was worried that you’d think…” You swallowed roughly, the words sticking to your throat. “That you’d think he was messing around with me.”

It was the worst thing he’d said. The implication that he wasn’t serious, that it was all a game to him; of everything he’d said that awful day, that’d hurt the most.

“Messing around with you?” Tooru scoffed. “Like he’s the type of guy to do that…”

There was comfort in hearing those words. But they have a different pallor from the last time you’d spoken with him; had Hajime’s words moved him so much? What had been said between them? You hadn’t asked out of fear, but maybe you should’ve…

“You sounded pretty angry the other day,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, but…”

There was still a terseness in his voice, an edge that he couldn’t soften.

He was trying. Hard. He wasn’t hiding how he felt, but he was… containing it. Was he coddling you?

No. No, he was trying to be reasonable. You couldn’t fault him for that, at least.

“Look… I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not mad,” Tooru sighed.

Your gut twisted, your instincts screaming at you to hang up, to avoid Tooru for the rest of time, to do anything you could to avoid that anger. You’d faced it once; you never wanted to face it again.

But Tooru didn’t raise his voice. If he really was still mad, he was stymieing it gently, keeping it contained.

“I just…” His words were quiet, barely audible. “I just want to understand what went wrong.”

Your thoughts skidded to a halt. “What went wrong?”

That’s… a big question. A really big question. One with all sorts of caveats, countless nooks and crannies to fall into and get lost in. Hell, you weren’t even sure if the two of you had the same interpretation of that question.

“Well… neither of you told me, right? But from the sounds of it, you got pretty hurt.”

That felt like an understatement. But what would Tooru know? What could Tooru know?

“I… I don’t know, Tooru,” you sighed. You were no longer the kid you were back then. “Hajime made the decisions but I… I just went along with it. I didn’t… advocate for myself, I guess.”

You couldn’t blame yourself for that. There you were, infatuated with your older brother’s friend, and terrified of making a mess.

And that’d been considerate of you. There was no reason to be upset with yourself for thinking about others.

But you’d forgotten yourself, letting your own feelings get shoved aside for a ‘maybe’. ‘Maybe’ you’d break up. ‘Maybe’ Tooru would be mad. ‘Maybe’ it’d cause a mess. How were you supposed to live your life protecting other people from possibilities, from problems that hadn’t even taken root?

A ‘maybe’ meant you could prepare. Meant you could make promises, make vows, make sure that the outcome wouldn’t be as bad as any of you feared. As much as you could.

“I think Iwaizumi was more scared than I was,” you admitted.

Perhaps it’s not your secret to tell; frankly, you don’t really know if it’s true. But you knew Iwaizumi, and you knew his heart.

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but it felt like the truth. Maybe he’d had more to lose than you. Maybe he was worried that his relationship with Tooru would never recover. You had the safety net of being a family member; someone he’d have to forgive one day, even if the mere act of dating his friend seemed like an insurmountable transgression to him.

Iwaizumi didn’t have that security.

Tooru was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “What, did he feel like he was betraying me or something?”

Your stomach twisted at his choice of words.

“Not… not that I ‘own’ you,” he mumbled, as though tripping over what he just said. “But, you know… teenage brains and all that. They’re not exactly reasonable.”

You bit your lip, frowning. “I mean, I can’t be sure… You’d have to ask him about that.”

“Right…” Tooru sighed for what felt like the thousandth time this conversation. Well, at least he wasn’t shouting.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tooru asked, surprisingly apprehensive.

“Sure.”

“Did you ever hate me for it?’

The question shot through you with a jolt.

The unfortunate truth was yes. In a way, you had. It was hard not to feel some kind of bitterness towards him – for being so bright, for being so ambitious. And of course, for what happened with Iwaizumi. It felt like you’d lived half your life in a shadow, unable to distinguish yourself as anything other than ‘Tooru’s younger sister.’

But there was no way to say that. Not when it’s complicated. Not when it’s your brother.

“Nevermind,” Tooru said, clearing his throat. “Look, just… keep me in the loop from now on, okay?”

You grimaced. “You want to know all the details?”

“Of course not!” He damn near shrieked. “Just… you know. If you break up, or if you get engaged… stuff like that.”

Your face flushed hot. “Tooru—”

“Okay, that’s all!” He hummed. “See you later!”

“Wait, Toor—”

The phone buzzed against your ear, a sure sign that Tooru had taken his leave. You sighed, letting all the tension that’d gathered in your chest dissipate in your breath.

That was… weird.

But not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. Everything was uncertain; maybe Tooru would change his mind. Maybe he’d decide that, actually, he hated the idea of this and he’d disown you if you kept dating Iwaizumi.

But right then, sitting in your tiny university cubicle, you realised something.

It was all in your hands, now. You could choose the way forward.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Hajime!” You called as you rushed through your front door, bag in tow.

“Yeah?” He was standing in the kitchen, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants as he unpacked the dishwasher.

You didn’t even take the time to marvel at the sight. The only thing on your mind was rushing towards him and throwing your arms around his neck.

“Everything okay?” He chuckled, placing a firm hand on your back.

“Mhm,” you hummed into his neck, revelling in his warmth.  He was always so warm; your own man-sized furnace. Did his sheer amount of muscle mass have something to do with that?

“You’re back early,” he said after a moment.

“Oh, yeah,” you grinned, tilting your head back to look at him. “I left my lecture early.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s fine,” you giggled, “I’ll just watch it later.”

Iwaizumi sighed, tutting under his breath as he leant in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You knew he didn’t have the heart to actually scold you; not when your arms were wrapped around him.

You hummed into the kiss, slipping one of your hands into his hair.

It was nice, being with him like this. There was nothing to worry about anymore; you didn’t need to hide this. You didn’t need to push your feelings to the side and hope you’d just get over them. Finally, finally, it was okay to feel this way. To bare your heart without any shame.

It was one thing to stand up for yourself, to assert your right to do what you wanted.

But knowing that the one thing that’d always been holding you back, that’d taken your feelings hostage for God knew how long…

Everything just felt lighter.

Chapter Text

July, 2021

You woke up earlier than usual.

The blind fluttered gently with the whirr of your ceiling fan, letting the light peter in and out of your room. There was a balminess to the air, the thrill of summer inherent in each passing moment. The thought of running around in this weather was abhorrent to you; but thankfully, you weren’t the one who was going to be on the volleyball court.

The morning was heavy with anticipation, years’ worth of work and toil aching to come to fruition. This day had taken far too long to get here – and yet, it had all happened so fast. Where did the time go?

“Mornin’,” Iwaizumi murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. His voice was so warm, still swaddled in drowsiness. It was a beautiful sound.

“Good morning,” you smiled, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze.

A sleepy Hajime was a rare sight. He usually woke up much earlier than you, squeezing in a morning run before having his morning shower and preparing breakfast for the two of you.

It’s not that you were tired of being pampered like that – you were sure only a few people could say their husband prepared them a nutritionally balanced breakfast each and every morning, and you weren’t about to take that for granted – but… it was always nice to see him like this.

“You excited?” You hummed. You didn’t need to explain what you meant. The two of you had this date marked on the calendar hanging in the kitchen for months now.

“Mhm.” You could hear the smile in Hajime’s voice.

He’d worked hard. Very hard. And finally, he’d made it to the world stage. Even if he wasn’t going to be playing on the court himself, you knew Hajime had poured so much into this. And Tooru had made good on his end of the promise; today, Japan would be standing against Argentina, with Oikawa Tooru leading the charge.  

“It’s finally your chance to take him down,” you grinned, turning around to face him. “Think you can do it?”

“Absolutely,” Hajime chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “He hasn’t shut up about it all week.” He sighed, but you knew he was fond. After all, you’d heard his phone blowing up all week.

(“Tooru again?” You grinned at your husband as he looked down at his phone with an expression that could only be described as ‘mildly perturbed’.

“What do you think?”)

Your legs interlocked absent-mindedly, tangled together in your thousand-thread count silk sheets. Even in the summer, you appreciated his warmth. There’s something about Hajime that was always so comforting; that made you feel like, no matter what, everything would be okay so long as you were in his arms.

Once, this life seemed impossible – especially with Hajime. Living in a little apartment in Tokyo, both university graduates, both full-time employees in your respective fields.

Married, for two years now. Long enough for your parents to start asking you about when they’ll be getting more grandkids. Amaya had already staked her claim on being the godparent of your first-born.

(“You’re gonna have three,” she said, with such confidence that you almost agreed with her.

“Three? Why three?” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because you grew up like that,” she shrugged. “You’re gonna think that one kid is too lonely, and that two might not get along. So, three it is.”)

Iwaizumi absent-mindedly ran his thumb over the cool metal of your wedding ring – an understated gold band, perhaps the simplest design anyone could pick. But you knew Iwaizumi’s never been one for frivolities; as soon as you’d gotten engaged, he’d started a savings account for your future together.

Tooru had made fun of him for it, of course. Something about how he was being too ‘serious’ – Hajime’s retort had been something to the effect of “what, you don’t want me to be serious about your sister?” Tooru had promptly shut up after that.

Somehow, despite the implicit chaos that came with placing Tooru, Matsukawa and Hanamaki in a single room, your wedding had gone well. Tooru had cried during his best man speech, of course – but not without wheedling in a thinly veiled threat or two. Amaya had also cried during her maid of honour speech. Her threats were a tad more direct.

Iwaizumi’s favourite photo from your wedding was framed on the kitchen wall. He wasn’t even in it – it was just you, looking radiant in your wedding dress, beaming at the camera as you smothered Tooru’s face with your bouquet. Your brother’s arms were failingly wildly, a barely legible blur of corduroy.

But Hajime was far too bashful to put up your favourite photo, though; it was of the kiss that sealed the deal, with an out-of-focus Tooru looking absolutely aghast in the background.

Many other photos littered your walls – photos of your time together in California, with all the friends you’d made there, photos of your honeymoon through Europe, taken in front of all the cheesiest tourist traps, photos of the odd date or two, scattered throughout the years.

There were plenty of photos with the Japanese volleyball team, too. You remembered Hinata from your high school days – the little red-headed rocket who blazed his way through Miyagi. And you knew Kageyama, of course. Everyone else had been a mystery. But one thing was obvious – they all trusted Hajime completely.

Hajime propped himself up over you, his elbows placed either side of your head. You smiled, running your hands over his thick, muscular shoulders and moving to cup his jaw. Hajime gazed at you with unrestrained fondness – a look you knew you’d never tire of.

He leant down and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss.

A slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that still took your breath away. You let yourself melt into it, sighing against him softly. If you had the time, you’d get lost in this moment, get lost in him. But there was too much to do today. Too much on the line.

Hajime pulled back, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed at you with half-lidded eyes. “I love you.”

Your heart would never get tired of hearing that. “I love you too.”