Chapter Text
The warm glow from the sun beams down onto Tokyo: A crisp breeze parting the wave of the heat. Hajime steps out onto the pavement, strolling towards the local outdoor market. He dons a baseball cap and t-shirt– an exceptionally casual outfit that he would almost never be seen in otherwise– to avoid causing a scene with his presence.
Everyone knows about the Iwaizumi family; The CEO, millionaire family of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. Hajime's whole life has always been centered around one thing, and one thing only. The business empire. From a very early age, his father had always repeated to him: “Remember Hajime, this business is our legacy.” –"It's all for our future.” – “One day this will all be yours Hajime.” And it will be. Hajime can't wait for that day. One day, he will be taking over the company in his father's honor and will become the new CEO. He can't wait for that. He can't wait to make his parents proud.
But for now, he will stick to attending endless business meetings and sneaking away to go to the market every once and a while. He often has to leave said business meetings early to even be able to go, but he doesn't really care. It's the only time he really has to himself anyway. What's an hour and a half to his whole life for the company? They can spare him that time.
As he approaches the market, the sights, sounds, and smells begin to fill his senses. Children laugh and run through the streets, holding bags of candies and sugary goods. Vendors chat amongst themselves and to the customers that come up to their stalls. A sense of calm washes over him. Hajime walks through the crowd for a while, before abruptly stopping when he hears a beautiful, gentle, melodic tune. He whips around, wondering where it is coming from. It only takes him a minute or two to find the source of the sound. Sitting on a wooden chair, is a tall looking, brunette man with striking features. He sits with a guitar in his lap, his eyes closed. His fingers delicately caress the strings of the guitar as he sings in a soft tone. If it wasn't for the microphone and open guitar case for tips, he might've believed that he was performing just for himself. Hajime has never seen anything like it; Someone so relaxed and carefree in one of the most bustling cities on earth.
A small crowd has started to form around the man, making Hajime back up slightly. However, his eyes stay focused on the man's face. His eyes won't let him look away and he doesn't know why. It's just some random, probably penniless musician on the street after all. Why should he care? He forces his feet to turn and leave, but then hears a sudden burst of applause. Hajime turns around to see the musician thanking the small crowd and starting to pack his things. Many people hold out cash for the man, who takes it gratefully and smiles at everyone like he's just won the lottery. He doesn't know why, but something about the sight is endearing. Watching this stranger interacting with the young children and parents, and anyone who stayed to listen to his music–it creates a strange sensation in Hajime's chest. So, against what his brain tells him he should do, his heart forces his feet over to the musician; His hand flying into his pocket for his wallet.
When he reaches him, he extends his hand out to him, a wad of cash in his hand. The man looks up at him with the biggest brown eyes he's ever seen. He clears his throat and mumbles, “I really enjoyed your set.”
The brunette smiles at him and takes it happily, “Why thank you!” He quickly glances down at the money and gasps when he sees the amount. “My god, you really didn't have to do this. I-I can't accept this.”
Hajime shakes his head, “Keep it.”
Big brown eyes blink at him like a deer in headlights. “Wow,” he says in awe, “Thank you so much.”
He nods and looks around, not knowing what to do next in this interaction. “So,” he says, “are you new around here? I haven't seen you before.”
The man in front of him shrugs, “Depends on your definition of new. New to this particular market? Yes. Only been here maybe three times so far. But, I've been here in Tokyo for almost a year now.” He raises an eyebrow at Hajime, “You?”
Hajime scoffs and shakes his head, “No. Grew up here. Been here my whole life.”
Surprised by the sheer sort of prejudice about tokyo, the man laughs and says, “Okay then Mr. Tokyo expert,”
He rolls his eyes, “Not my name.”
Silence lingers between them for a second or two. A small smirk pulls on the corners of the brunette's lips, “Well if that isn't it, what is your name?”
Damn it. He shot himself in the foot with that one. So much for being anonymous when he goes out. He sighs and holds out his hand for a handshake, “Iwaizumi Hajime.”
To his surprise, the man doesn't even flinch. Normally he can pick up on even a small reaction to his name; A gasp or the widening of eyes, but this guy? Nothing. Instead, he casually shakes his hand and nods. “Pleasure to meet you.”
When Hajime doesn't get a name back, he asks, “And you are?”
The man gives him a quick once over, (which makes Hajime's chest feel tight for some reason) and smirks, “I don't really do names on the first meeting.”
Oh this bastard.
“I just gave you mine.”
Brown eyes stare directly into his as he continues, “That's what makes this more fun. Maybe if you come see me again sometime we can get on a name basis.”
He looks at the man in shock. Who the hell does this guy think he is? Hajime begins to open his mouth to say something when all of a sudden he is cut off.
“I'll be coming here every Wednesday at two pm.”
“Wait- I”
But the man gets up, his stuff fully packed. “Can't wait to see you there.” Then, he has the audacity to wink at him and saunter away from him and into the crowd.
Hajime quickly makes his way out of the market, his face feeling exponentially hotter than before.
-
Hajime is stretched out on his bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes focused on the ceiling. He sighs and leans back into the pillows. The image of the handsome stranger has flooded his mind ever since meeting him a couple of days ago. The interaction leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Afterall, who the hell did that guy think he was? No one has ever given him , of all people, an attitude and cockiness. Maybe he didn't understand who he was. It was the only possible scenario.
But other parts of that conversation make him feel confused. The weird tightness in his chest, not only caused by his frustration. The weird, warm, fuzzy feeling he had when those brown doe eyes landed on him. That wink. God, his fucking wink. What the hell has this random musician off the street done to him?
-
Wednesday arrives faster than he thought it would. Hajime tries to ignore that feeling of anticipation and curiosity as he sits with his parents and their employees in the meeting room that morning. They are currently doing a run down of the plans they have for the upcoming tech launch in the new year as a way to get the whole team on board. However, Hajime has a really hard time listening to them when his heart is beating a million miles an hour, and his brain is fighting with himself about what he should do. He knows that he should be listening in on this and taking notes, not running off to the market so he can socialize with a lower class musician. It would be frowned upon. His parents would disapprove. He can't go.
He sits there glumly, watching the clock get closer and closer to two o'clock. Hajime fidgets in his seat, debating whether or not to leave. Finally, when his father declares a quick break, he excuses himself by saying that he's meeting with someone for business. Not the truth at all but hey, a little white lie never hurt anyone. Also as much as he hates to admit it, something about that man…intrigues him, and his heart wants to know more. He can't quite put his finger on it, but he seems magnetic despite the underlying cocky attitude. Something about him pulls Hajime in. It's irritating.
He arrives at the market, walking briskly past all the stalls and vendors to try to find the man he spoke to last week. However, after scanning around for him for almost 10 whole minutes, he starts to feel like maybe this was a prank. Angrily he stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns around to leave, when he spots him. He's standing up by the microphone this time, his eyes closed again while he sings what Hajime assumes to be his original works. The man's brown hair sits in front of his eyes slightly; A wide smile on his face. Hajime makes his way over to him, standing off to the side to watch. He thinks that he won't notice he's there, but before he knows it, brown eyes find his. He sees the other's eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, but he doesn't know whether it's out of happiness or shock that he came.
After he is finished with his songs, Hajime walks up to the man. The musician smirks, “Just had to come back for more, didn't you?”
Hajime rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach. “You never gave me your name. It seemed unfair.”
A laugh spills out from the man, “Fine, fine. You earned it I guess.”
He raises an eyebrow at him, “So this was a test?”
Another wink, “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see you again.”
Hajime scoffs, “So a trick?”
“Maybe that too.”
This time he laughs and breaks the intense eye contact from the musician, “Okay, Okay, tell me. What's your name?”
The other runs a hand through his hair and grins, “Oikawa. Oikawa Tooru.”
Hajime lets the name ricochet off the walls of his brain. Oikawa. Oikawa. Oikawa. The name somehow fits him perfectly for some reason. Oikawa. Oikawa.
Suddenly, he's broken out of his trance by Oikawa saying, “Hey, you look fancier today. Just came from a meeting?”
Hajime looks down to realize that in his rush to find Oikawa, he completely forgot to change into something more casual. “Oh uh yeah I-”
“There's a new launch coming in the new year right? Pretty cool.”
His eyes go wide, “What? How did you-”
Oikawa laughs, “Did you really think I didn't know about the elusive Iwaizumi Hajime? Hate to burst your bubble but you're on that damn billboard over there.” He points to a big sign in the distance, “You're not that anonymous.”
Hajime feels his face flush. So he did know who I was. “So you just talk to everyone like that? You must piss people off.”
“Just a part of my charm Iwa,” he says, sticking out his tongue.
The nickname catches him off guard, “Don't call me that.”
Oikawa winks again and says, “Too late.” Then he leans down, and picks up his guitar, “I'll see you next week? We can discuss other nicknames then.”
Wow this guy is bold. “Bold of you to assume there will be a next week. I never said we were friends,” he says.
“Oh Iwa,” Oikawa smirks, “You don't have a choice.”
Hajime has no idea why that made his stomach seem to flip. Oikawa continues, “Ooh! I know! Iwa-chan! Perfect ring to it.”
He rubs his temple, “Do not call me that .”
But Oikawa has already turned to leave, “See you around Iwa-chan!”
And this is where Hajime should go back home and never come back to this market, be rational and never get involved with this chaotic man again.
Well, that's what he probably should've done.