Chapter Text
Hajime is good at his job. He works efficiently and smoothly, something his co-workers agree on. He’s never had a hitch in his job in the 3 years he’s been working, and is considered one of the best employees the company has. Hajime doesn’t care too much about reputation, but he also finds it satisfying to have it. It’s better to stay on his boss’ good side, after all.
For the past 3 years, Hajime has worked as an assassin. Growing up in a family of delinquents, Hajime fell into the business quite easily. It’s not really that he enjoys his job or anything, but he’s good at it, and it pays the bills and that’s really all reason Hajime needs to keep going.
However, with this new job that he’s been given, Hajime, for the first time ever, has found himself with a bit of difficulty, strangely enough.
After being assigned a hit, Hajime went about it like any other job; he looks up the target and studies him, planning an opportunity to carry out his mission. Hajime spent a little over a week watching the target and memorizing his schedule.
Tooru Oikawa.
The same age as Hajime. He’s in college, often flitting between the buildings at a leisurely pace. Sometimes, more often than not, he’s stopped outside a building by a group of girls who fawn over him until he’s late for class. Popular. It’d be a bit of a mess if he dies, Hajime concludes. Which begs the question as to why he’s being marked, though it’s never really Hajime’s business as to why his targets are targets.
Hajime’s not a stranger to taking down people he finds attractive - it comes with the job - and he’d be stupid to deny his target’s attractiveness. But, he supposes, that’s likely part of what makes the guy popular. Nothing to worry about.
It’s a weekday night when Hajime follows the man in the direction of what he assumes is his apartment. Hajime usually keeps away from his apartment - he doesn’t know who the man lives with - so he mostly watches the guy when he’s out and about. The streets are mostly desolate, and particularly scarce near the alley that they’re coming up on.
Hajime steps out of the shadows, and he reaches out to grab the man’s jacket collar to force him into the alley, but before he can get there, the man spins around, looks him dead in the eye. It catches Hajime off guard as the man looks him over once, quirking an eyebrow.
“I knew it! You have been following me, haven’t you?”
And the voice is low, deep brown eyes gazing into Hajime’s green with a look that Hajime can’t read. All Hajime can think is Dangerous. The question sets in Hajime’s mind and his stomach drops, throat closing up as he realizes, I’ve been caught.
Hajime’s reaching for the knife tucked away in his jacket when the man suddenly chuckles and gives him the goofiest grin he’s ever seen.
“You’re a fan of mine, aren’t you?”
Dumbstruck, Hajime lets go of the knife he’s go gripped under his jacket as the man in front of him laughs.
“Of course you are! It only makes sense that even guys fall for my charms! Are you embarrassed, is that why you’re following me around in the dark? There’s nothing to worry about! I’ll accept your support! But!” he waggles a finger, his eyes seem to be scanning Hajime despite his demeanor, “It’s not very nice to go around following people home. It’s sorta creepy, and I could have gotten the wrong idea.”
Hajime scowls, unsure what to do. He’s not trained for a situation like this, and he’s torn between rolling with the punches and just killing the guy right now. But the man in front of him, for all his stupid smiles and bubbly attitude, still seems dangerous, like he’s sizing up Hajime while he puts on a play.
“Hm? Are you upset? How about I give you my autograph, that’ll make you happy! Hmm, let’s see,” the man mumbles, digging into his backpack.
Hajime briefly wonders if he should pull out the knife anyway. He can’t tell if this guy’s winging it, is actually planning something, or is just plain stupid. But if Hajime tries to kill him now, he’s not sure if the guy will fight back, so he takes initiative to try to go with the flow.
“Who should I make it out to?” the man asks as he pulls a large notebook that Hajime’s pretty sure is supposed to be used for sketching art out of his duffle bag. He’s already digging a sharpie out of his bag without waiting for an answer.
“I’m-” Hajime begins, trying to redirect the situation, but the man glances up at him over the notebook and the words die in his throat. Those eyes are dangerous, Hajime notes.
“What’s your name?” the man asks with a polite smile.
Hajime acts on instinct, too frozen from the guy’s dark eyes to really think properly.
“Hajime… Iwaizumi,” Hajime says slowly, a little softly. He blinks, then realizes he just gave out his real name and mentally kicks himself. This is bad, this is bad, Hajime thinks to himself frantically. He’s never let his real name slip like that, and he’s getting frustrated now, baffled how this one man has screwed him up so much.
“There!” the man exclaims, carefully tearing out the page and hanging it to Hajime.
Hajime cautiously takes it and looks down at the paper as the man caps his pen.
It reads: “To my biggest fan, Iwa-chan! Thank you for your support!! -Oikawa-san” with a couple hearts and a small cartoon portrait of the man’s face on it.
Hajime stares down at it, speechless. His eyes scan it again, and land on the shortened name.
“I-Iwa-chan…?” Hajime mutters, and the name sounds so stupid, like a nickname a child would give their friend.
“Like it? I thought I’d cheer you up by giving you a cute nickname as well!”
Hajime tries to process this situation and how to handle it. He’s working on calming himself down as he thinks, This could work. If I can get close to him, eventually another opportunity will open up.
Hajime hates acting and he’s never been good at it, but he’ll do whatever he needs to salvage this job. He forces a grin and adds a lilt to his voice, “T-Thank you, Oikawa-san!”
There’s a split second pause that Hajime almost misses, where Oikawa’s smile seems to falter slightly, though Hajime’s not sure why. But Oikawa puts his grin back on so quickly that Hajime’s almost convinced it was a trick of the street light.
“No need to thank me! Ask for an autograph anytime!” Oikawa laughs proudly. “And just call me Oikawa.” He winks, and Hajime fights to keep the grimace off his own face.
“Sure thing, Oikawa,” Hajime says weakly.
“Hey, you know, I’ve never seen you around before, Iwa-chan. You don’t go to my college, Seijou, do you?”
Hajime fights back an eye roll at his new nickname and waves a hand dismissively, putting on a smile. “Oh, no. I’m 23, but I’m not in college. I work odd jobs here and there. You’re a pretty popular face, though, so I guess I became a fan. Sorry for following you,” Hajime speaks politely, and bows to top it off.
“Well, it wasn’t in any bad intention, right?” Oikawa says with a satisfied nod, but the way he says the sentence doesn’t sit right with Hajime. “I’ll forgive you.”
“Thank you,” Hajime nods on cue. He folds up the autograph and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans. He figures he’ll toss it later, though he wonders if he could make money off it after he kills Oikawa.
“You know, Iwa-chan, if you wanted to get to know me better, I’d be happy to hang out with you. Frankly, I don’t normally give my fans this kind of premium treatment, but you’re a special one!” Oikawa hums.
“...How so?” Hajime mumbles lowly.
Oikawa shrugs, stretching his arms out above him, and pale skin glows in the street light.
“Well, in any case, let’s talk more! Give me your number,” he says, whipping out his phone.
Hajime doesn’t linger on the way Oikawa dodges his question and hesitantly takes out his own phone. He recites the number of his current one, Oikawa sends him a quick text (“Hi, Iwa-chan!” followed by a grinning emoji), and Hajime saves the number.
It must be upwards of Hajime’s 15th burner phone now, and he isn’t above ditching this one either should it give him any trouble, but he’s never saved phone numbers of his targets. He’s never needed to, but now that one is stored in this phone, the thought of throwing it out seems oddly discomforting. Hajime can’t imagine why, though. He wonders if he should write down Oikawa’s number too, just in case, before shaking his thoughts off, confused by his own impulse ideas.
“I’ll be messaging you,” Oikawa says with one more wink.
When Hajime returns to his own apartment, his head feels sluggish. He tosses off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a clunk from the knife. He flops down on his cheap couch, but stops when he feels something in his pocket.
Ugh.
Hajime digs out the folded up piece of paper and looks over the autograph again. This is so stupid and roundabout, Hajime thinks bitterly before flinging the paper onto the coffee table. He finally lets his mind loose as he stares up at the ceiling, and his thoughts come crowding every corner of his mind.
I can’t afford to be that reckless again. There was a dangerous glint in his eye. What did that mean? I’m gonna have to explain to the boss this stupid situation, shit. I’ll need more time to finish this job. He called me a special fan, what did that mean? Does he not normally treat his fans like this? I’d believe that he does, he seems like the type.
His current of thoughts are abruptly halted at a pinging sound from his phone. Reluctantly, Hajime bring it to his face and once he reads the name on his screen, he considers just ignoring it. But he sighs and opens it up.
Oikawa
Iwa-chan, you dropped something!
Oikawa sent an image.
Hajime opens the picture to see a small black journalist notepad he keeps with notes of his targets. He shoots up, snatching his jacket off the ground and checking the pockets. Sure enough, his notepad isn’t there.
He never puts names in the book in case of situations exactly like this, but it has records of Oikawa’s schedule and the behavioral things he’s taken note of. Things Oikawa will bound to notice and find strange if he looks. Fuck.
Oikawa
I was on my way back from the store when I saw it where we met! Had your name on the first page. It looks important :P
Me
It is. I’d like it back as soon as possible.
Oikawa
It’s late!! Not safe to be walking around town anymore D:
Oikawa
Meet me tomorrow at The Grind near my college! It’s a cafe! I’ll give it to you when I’m out of class in the morning
Hajime lets a groan slip out loud. This is becoming more and more annoying. It’s bordering on 10 PM now, and it takes a good while to walk back to the alley. He can’t guarantee the Oikawa won’t snoop through his notes, that he hasn’t already snooped through them. Hajime’s already thinking of excuses in his head as he replies.
Me
Fine. Please keep it safe.
Oikawa
Will do! ;D
Oikawa
Oh! I get out at 9 tomorrow btw
Hajime’s head falls back onto the arm of the couch. He’s not even sure when he had dropped the book in the first place. It had been in the pocket of his jacket, and he thinks if he probably would have noticed if it had fallen out. He vaguely remembers stumbling slightly as he was walking back, after Oikawa had left, saying something about buying groceries for a late dinner. Hajime must have still been too dazed to notice. Or something, Hajime bites his lip. When the hell did I get so clumsy, anyway?
Hajime arrives at the cafe at 8:45 AM and takes a seat near the window so Oikawa can spot him. He orders a coffee, hoping to perk himself up after a restless night of sending emails to his boss assuring him that he just needs more time for his job, finding Oikawa’s social medias to keep track of him and to make sure he doesn’t mention Hajime’s name, and just generally trying not to think about all his blunders that dropped him in this situation to begin with.
Hajime’s boss had chewed him out, saying Hajime had been too reckless and frantic. Hajime promised his boss that he had a plan and it would just take a couple more weeks, successfully quelling him, albeit begrudgingly.
At around 9:15 AM, Oikawa walks up to the cafe, waves to Hajime in the window, and enters with a greeting to the barista behind the counter. He’s wearing a blue hoodie that says “KING” on it with a crown over the words. Hajime thinks it looks absolutely pretentious.
He sits down in front of Hajime, plopping his duffle bag onto the table and rattling Hajime’s cup of coffee. He’s wearing glasses that Hajime has seen him wear from time to time. They frame his face well, Hajime thinks.
“Morning, Iwa-chan!” he addresses.
Hajime hums a reply, taking a sip of his coffee and trying not to look completely exhausted.
Oikawa opens a side pocket of his bag and pulls out Hajime’s notepad. He presents it politely with a grin.
Hajime takes it and sets it down next to his cup. “Did you…” he begins slowly, but Oikawa beats him to it.
“I didn’t look inside past the first page with your name on it. I know how to respect privacy, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he shoves his bag off the table and onto the floor next to him. It flops at his feet with a loud thud.
Hajime breathes a sigh of relief.
“What’s it for, anyway? You said you weren’t in college, and it’s a little small for note-taking,” Oikawa says, propping his chin up with the palm of his hand.
Well, not for the kind of note-taking you’re thinking of, Hajime thinks. Luckily, Hajime has always had an excuse ready, should the question ever come up.
“It’s for observations. I like to study people - it’s just a little hobby of mine,” Hajime answers. It’s not entirely a lie.
Oikawa smirks, raising his eyebrows. “Haha, is that what that was yesterday?” he asks with a chuckle. “That’s kinda cute.”
Hajime feels… something at that. He’s not really sure what. But he clears his throat to cover it up and forces a smile. “Pretty perceptive, huh?”
There’s something in Oikawa’s eyes that gives Hajime the same feeling he felt yesterday when he met the guy. The feeling of he knows something, and he’s dangerous and Hajime’s suddenly on edge. But Oikawa’s already returned to his regular bright grin, like he doesn’t realize he gives off an aura of unease.
“Are you nervous, Iwa-chan?”
Hajime freezes in his chair. He searches Oikawa’s face, who’s moved his hand so that it covers his mouth, making his expression even harder to ready. His eyes are sharp, friendly, but fierce like they’re holding Hajime at gunpoint. Hajime swallows, trying to think of some kind of response.
“You don’t have to worry, you know. I’m not such a scary person once you get to know me. You don’t have to put on an act," Oikawa says the last sentence lowly.
Hajime frowns, narrowing his eyes at Oikawa. But Oikawa’s expression doesn’t change, eyes still bright but off. Morning sun shines through the window, casting a glow around his face, dust particles dancing around his face.
Hajime forces a chuckle, and it sounds artificial, even in his ears. “I don’t know what you mean. We only just met, so of course I’d be nervous,” he says, trying to keep his tone light.
Oikawa watches him for a moment, eyebrows slightly quirked before he finally looks away, gazing out at the parking lot.
“I guess not,” Oikawa says, a little quietly And just like that, he snaps back, clapping his hands together and returning to his cheerful, charismatic demeanor. “You should come to one of my games, Iwa-chan! You can cheer me on!”
Hajime recalls that Oikawa plays college volleyball, and is pretty famous around town for how good he is. He knows the basics of volleyball, just from high school PE, but he’s no expert on it or anything. Besides, more people means a higher chance of Hajime being caught. He’s not that interested in sports, anyway.
“I think I’d be more motivated if someone like you came to cheer me on,” Oikawa says, intertwining his fingers and resting his chin on them.
Hajime leans back in his chair, regaining his heartbeat. “Someone like me?” he repeats.
Oikawa only closes his eyes and keeps that smile. He says nothing in response.
“I’m… busy this week with work. Maybe I can catch your next game,” Hajime says, willing his voice not to shake.
“Too bad!” Oikawa shrugs resignedly. “Well in any case,” he says as he stands, picking his duffle and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll get going now. See you later, Iwa-chan! Hope to see you again soon.”
He waves goodbye, turns on his heels, and walks out the door quickly. From the window, Hajime thinks he catches the slightest glimpse of a frown and dark eyes behind glasses, but only for a moment. He watches Oikawa’s back as he crosses the street towards the college and disappears into a building.
Hajime lets his shoulders untense, but his breath is still stuck in his throat. Despite being exhausted, he feels wide awake now.
Hajime’s coffee has grown cold.