Chapter Text
Tooru tugged at the sleeve of his jacket, sitting on the bench watching the rest of his team talking and getting ready for practice. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone today, the pit in his stomach wouldn’t leave. He had been playing volleyball since he was six years old. Never once had he gotten a bruise on his forearms from receiving. Mostly, the bruises came from diving and digging, occasionally colliding. But now they were both an ugly green and purple. He thought it would go away, thought he had just hit his arm on something not realizing it, but it was getting worse. It had been a week. Worse and worse. He’d tried covering it up by wearing warmers on his arms. Never once had he done that. His teammates didn’t ask. He didn’t tell them. Why would they ask? Two weeks. It had been two weeks and the bruises hadn’t even started to fade. He chewed his lip staring at the other boys.
He felt the bench shift next to him signaling someone was there. There were eyes staring at him. Vibrations were being sent through the air while that primitive part of his brain regesterd the slight change in the air around him. He swallowed, not turning to see who it was.
“What’s wrong?” The voice’s body nudged him.
He bit his lip harder. The metallic taste of blood touched his tongue. He ran his tongue over his lip before he responded, planting his characteristic smile on his face.
“Nothing, Iwa-chan,” he answered in a singsong voice.
Hajime stared at him, green eyes burrowing into his soul. Tooru tried with all his might to smile and act calm, cool, and collected. He tried to push the worry that was rising in him away. Still, the unmistakable feeling that something was wrong, very wrong, was still nagging at him.
“I’m not stupid,” Hajime rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just worried about the match is all,” he offered a smile.
Hajime took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. For a second, Tooru thought he’d successfully gotten his friend to leave him alone.
“How long have we known each other? How long have we been friends? How long have we been teammates?” Hajime paused. Tooru knew they were hypothetical questions. He focused his eyes on the ground. “You don’t get nervous for matches. I can tell when something’s wrong.”
“Iwa-chan…” Tooru inhaled slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Please don’t press?”
“You promise to talk to me about it later?” Hajime frowned.
Tooru nodded, plastering the smile that had now become so easy even in the hardest of times on his face. Hajime seemed satisfied with the answer. He stood up and walked toward the court. Tooru dug his hands in the pockets of his jacket. If only he could hide the bruises forever.
“Oikawa, get your ass over here!” Hajime shouted across the gym. “We’re starting.”
Tooru licked his lips, cursing silently to himself when he still tasted blood. It shouldn’t be bleeding still. Practice was starting. The team was looking over at him expectantly. It was his job to get the practice started, was it not? A captain’s duties. He sucked on his lip for a moment, before slipping his jacket off. He jogged over, a smile on his face, calmly addressing his teammates instructing the warm up. The coaches eventually showed up, a practice game was started.
He felt so strange, the same as he had the last few weeks. During practice, he’d start to feel faint. He pushed through, taking the time to drink some water whenever he could. He’d even started bringing protein bars to practice with him. Maybe he was just going through a growth spurt? It was ridiculous. He was eighteen. Why would he have growth spurt? The snacks weren’t helpful. Still he pushed. He couldn’t show them how he was feeling. Focusing all his energy on tossing the ball perfectly to his spikers.
A wave of dizziness washed over him. The toss was short. Hajime still hit it, scoring a point before turning to criticize the toss, demand better, to demand what he knew Tooru could do. All annoyance left his face, melting into something of concern. Then everything was black.
********
“Give him some air! Move back!”
Tooru blinked his eyes open. His head felt like it was spinning. Coach Mizoguchi was pushing a bottle of water to him. Everyone was around him, staring at him. Why was he on the ground? What happened? He remembered the toss, then Hajime’s face then…had he fainted?
“Did you hit your face?”
“No, he fell to the side,” Hajime crossed his arms, his brows knit.
“Your nose is bleeding.”
The coach pushed a towel to him. He held it in place, drinking the water. They were asking him questions, but he didn’t want to answer. This was the first time he’d ever passed out. His heart was racing as adrenaline pulsed through his body.
“Oikawa, answer me!”
Tooru rubbed his eyes, giving a groggy answer to where he was and what had happened. How many fingers? Had he eaten? Was he feeling ill?
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“He seems okay.”
He couldn’t pinpoint who was talking. It was all in the background of the mess spinning in his mind. What was wrong? Bruising, weakness, nose bleeds, fatigue. Two weeks. He hadn’t said anything. He didn’t want to worry his parents when it was probably nothing. But now he’d fainted. Something was wrong. He knew it. He could feel it.
“Do you feel okay to get up?” The coach asked.
Tooru nodded, standing up with some assistance of the coach and Hajime. Another wave of dizziness hit him. It was all he could do from falling against Hajime. His lip still tasted of blood. The buzzing of voices around him were making him feel overwhelmed. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly.
“Iwaizumi, can you take him home?”
“Yes, coach.”
“I’m fine,” Tooru protested.
“Shut up, Tooru. You’re going home,” Hajime muttered.
The walk home Hajime had his arm around him, half holding him up. There wasn’t a single word said between them. The other boy was holding both of their bags. It felt so strange feeling like this. He didn’t want to go to the doctor. He hated needles. The sterile smell of hospitals were so off putting and he hated the way they tried to paint the wall something other than white to make it feel nicer. Part of him was relieved that the coaches had thought better than to call an ambulance.
He tried to turn his concentration to Hajime. The way he fits so perfectly against him, the way he could feel him breath against him. Everything was so perfect with this boy. At what point had he his feelings for his childhood best friend changed? It was comfortable. There wasn't the butterflies in the stomach feeling he'd gotten when he had crushes in the past. This was different. He pulled himself a little closer to Hajime, breathing him in. It was familiar: Soap, a hint of cologne, and heat. Hajime never smelled like sweat or dirty after practice, just...hot. It put Tooru's mind at ease.
“Is this what was wrong?” Hajime finally asked, Tooru’s house just barely in the distance.
“No.” Tooru lied. “I’m fine.”
“You passed out! You can barely hold yourself up. You need to go see a doctor, Oikawa. What the hell was Irihata-san and Mizoguchi-san thinking just sending you home?” Hajime ranted.
“I’m fine,” Tooru insisted, pulling away from his friend. “See? I’m fine. Maybe I just overdid it?”
Hajime stared at him, a doubtful look on his face. He crossed his arms. Tooru braced himself. He wasn’t feeling much better, but he had to convince his Hajime that he was okay.
“You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not.” Tooru sighed, crossing his arms. “I’m just tired.”
“You never say that.”
“Well maybe for once I’m listening to you!” Tooru insisted.
“Yeah right…” Hajime’s mouth twitched up in a smirk as he raised his eyebrow. “You haven’t listened to me about that unless I’m literally forcing you.”
“Hajime, I’m fine.” He emphasized the word more to convince himself than the other boy. “Thank you for walking me home. I can make it from here.”
“You’re not going to invite me in?” That cute smirk again.
“Do you want to come in, Iwa-chan?” Tooru mirrored the expression.
“Sure, don’t mind if I do.”
Tooru shook his head, a smile forming on his face as he watched Hajime waltz ahead of him toward the house. He followed slowly, his head still spinning. Hajime was waiting at the door for him to make his way up the sidewalk. He couldn’t move faster. He felt like the earth was spinning under his feet, but he made it, pushing the door open.
“Tooru, are you alright?”
His mother was holding his face in her hands the minute the boys had walked in the house. He hadn’t even had a chance to kick off his shoes or say word. He wanted to melt into his mom like he did when he was little and didn’t feel well. She used to give him the best snuggles. Usually these days she and his father were far too busy with work, and he was too old for such things. He was a man of eighteen now.
“I’m fine, okaasan." He smiled.
“You’re so pale.” She frowned. She run her finger over his lip. “And you’re bleeding. Sweetheart, you look absolutely ill. Irihata-san saying you passed out during practice. Did you eat properly? Have you been drinking enough water? Did you work out too much?”
“I think I’m just tired,” he managed.
“Hajime, thank you so much for walking him home. I have some sticky buns in the kitchen you can help yourself too,” she offered the boy a smile.
“Thank obasan!” Hajime smiled politely.
Tooru tried to move past his mother and follow Hajime. Instead she lead him to the couch, making him lie down. Before he knew what happened she was taking his temperature and a wet rag on his forehead. If it had been anyone else who’d walked him home, he would have been embarrassed, but it was just Hajime. They’d been best friends for years. Still, Tooru didn’t like the fact that Hajime could see it all happening.
“I really think we need to talk you to the doctor…” His mother frowned.
“I’m okay. Please. I just need some rest.” Tooru insisted.
He felt like a child getting into trouble all over again when she finally sighed and nodded. He let out a sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was just sleep. Earlier he hadn’t realized how tired he was, but lying down on the couch, he felt the exhaustion setting in.
“You’re staying home from school tomorrow. No practice. If you still look this bad tomorrow, I’m taking you to the doctor.” The tone in her voice left no room for argument. He nodded, curling into himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
Hajime stayed for a short time. They talked a little, but mostly just watched television. At some point Tooru had fallen asleep because when he woke up, his father was home and the other boy was gone. A small blanket had been placed over him. His mother forced him to eat before ushering him up the stairs to get ready for bed. His limbs were so heavy, it felt like such an effort to move. When he finally found his bed, he felt as though he’d died and gone to heaven.