Chapter Text
"What's a soulmark?"
Tooru's mother smiled gently, rolling up her sleeves to reveal her soulmark; flowing silver handwriting spelling "Akihiro", wrapping around her wrist like a bracelet made for her.
"Were the girls at school talking about them? It's your soulmate's name, written on your wrist, in a colour special to the two of you," she explained, chuckling as Tooru tried to discreetly check his own wrists. "You don't have one yet, because you're a bit too young to know! It'll appear eventually, as you get older."
Tooru pouted, sitting down on the floor. "Then why is everyone talking about something that doesn't even appear until later? Soulmates can't be that cool."
"Well, a soulmate is someone that you feel comfortable with; a person who accepts you with all your strengths and weaknesses, who will make you feel that you can be yourself and not be judged when with them. That's why many people want to find their soulmate; it's an one-of-a-kind bond with someone special!"
"I still don't get it. What's so great about a stranger who has your name on their arm?"
"You'll learn soon," his mother sighed, patting his head. "It's not as simple as that."
"Iwa-chann!"
Oikawa waves, fixing his hair before lightly jogging over to Iwaizumi. "Today's Iwa-chan's birthday! How do you feel, birthday boy?"
In actuality, he somewhat forgot, but was reminded by his phone calendar that today—June 10th—is indeed his best friend's birthday. He's already wondering what he can buy from the stores as a gift, and already knows that the infamous agedashi tofu will inevitably turn up in his grasp. After all, it is Iwaizumi's favourite food, and what kind of friend would he be if he couldn't at least remember that?
Iwaizumi huffs in disgust, immediately using his hand to mess up Oikawa's hair.
"You were late again, Shittykawa. Next time, I'm leaving if you don't come out on time."
"Wahh! Iwa-chan is being mean and avoiding the question! I took a long time to do this hair, just for you!"
Oikawa sticks his tongue out at Iwaizumi, laughing. He hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi properly in a while, partly because he's been going to school early to practice his serves for the practice match with some school. Now that it's over and done with, he can finally get back to little chats and walks to school with Iwaizumi—something he'd been unknowingly craving.
"Speaking of which, today's the day you get your soulmark, eh? Who do you want it to be? Maybe Ai-chan from Class 2? Or maybe that pretty manager from Karasuno?"
"Shut it, Trashykawa," Iwaizumi growls, shoving his shoulder lightly.
"No no, I'm genuinely curious," he smiles, ignoring the thump thump and whoosh of blood roaring in his ears.
Oikawa starts to wonder—why does he care about Iwaizumi's soulmate? Why did he spend the night unable to sleep, consumed with thoughts of a girl replacing his spot next to Iwaizumi? He can't imagine it without feeling a twisting in his chest—like he's being cut open and all his organs are being rotated.
"I actually have no idea," Iwaizumi confessed, hiding his reddening face in his hands. "I'm actually really nervous, so stop asking."
Cute. Oikawa thinks, against his own will. It's not often that Iwaizumi is flustered enough to blush a pretty rose pink, but when he does, Oikawa can't help wanting to squeeze him and never let go.
"Iwa-chan's embarrassed! So it really is Ai-chan?" Oikawa asks, masking his emotions under a brilliant pearly smile.
Oikawa, again, ignores the sharp stabbing feeling. There's nothing much he can do that wouldn't ruin their friendship, and that's the last thing he wants to happen. He hates to feel this way towards his friend, but he can't stop falling down this deep sinkhole of I want him to be mine.
Oikawa forgot about Iwaizumi and his soulmark, too consumed with doodling little aliens all over his ripped up notebook. Red, green, blue, yellow...
That is, until Iwaizumi nearly knocks over his entire row of desks when he falls out of his chair in the middle of class, hitting his head on the adjacent desk with a sickening thunk!
Other students try to help Iwaizumi, who looks like he's been doused in ice cold water, clutching his wrist tightly like a lifeline.
Could it be? Oikawa can't help but dare to hope that his name is written on the hidden wrist—haphazardly small and neat letters spelling out Oikawa Tooru. Can he hope?
Iwaizumi finally lets go of his wrist, assuring his classmates that he is completely fine and that he hasn't been injured by hitting his head against Hanamaki's desk. After a while of spacing out, Iwaizumi finally glances down at his wrist, his eyes immediately snapping to Oikawa's direction. For a second, Oikawa dares to let his hope grow. Until Iwaizumi zeroes in on the girl sitting to his left.
She's a pretty girl named Rachel. Being a foreign exchange student with caramel hair and stormy blue eyes, even jealous Oikawa has to admit that they look very, very good together. He could imagine this girl getting married to his friend.
And that scares him—more than all of the horror movies he's watched with Iwaizumi, more than angry Iwaizumi back in 5th grade when Oikawa got both of them suspended for a day.
Oikawa didn't think he'd ever been more jealous, and of a girl, too.
When Oikawa excuses himself to go to the bathroom, he runs, tears pooling suddenly at the corners of his eyes.
He's not sure why or when the tears start dripping down his face, but as he curls up on the bathroom floor, his heart aches.
He wants Iwaizumi—not just as his friend, but as his soulmate. He can't help falling for his best friend since childhood, with how good he treated him, the way he was always there to help and defend him—he wanted Iwaizumi to stay by his side forever, as his.
Oikawa can't stand imagining the stupid girl next to his "Iwa-chan", laughing at some sort of inside joke that he isn't in on, celebrating "Iwa-chan"'s birthdays without him, and even calling him "Iwa-chan", the nickname only he, Oikawa, can call Iwaizumi.
Everything hurts; his heart aches, his stomach clenches in disagreement, his nose starts bleeding as he just keeps crying. He can't accept that Iwaizumi isn't his. He can't hate Rachel—she's done nothing wrong. But everything just feels so wrong and he doesn't like it.
He's not sure when he falls asleep against the cool tile wall, but wakes up, the bathroom dark and gloomy. His phone vibrates in his pocket, blaring some god-awful shounen anime soundtrack that Takeru probably set as his ringtone, that stupid brat.
He uses his phone flashlight to find the light switch, flicking it and trying to fix himself in the mirror. He looks like a mess—dried blood, bed head, red and puffy eyes, and a sallow complexion. Oikawa laughs, his dry and crackly voice bouncing off the walls.
He answers his phone, clearing his throat loudly.
"Shittykawa, where are you? I've called you five times already, what's wrong with you?"
"A-ah, nothing, Iwa-chan!" He desperately tries to keep the pep in his voice. "I'm just out buying some things. I swear I'll be back soon! Tell my mom not to worry about me too much."
"You sure, Oikawa?"
"Y-yep! I'm just out at the shops. No worries!"
His mother is going to kill him.
He hasn't even bought anything for Iwaizumi yet.
Fuck.