Chapter Text
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The body was so still.
That was the first thing he noticed when brought in to identify. He’d never seen Tobio so still before, even at his most frightened. The boy was a fidgeter, always had been for as long as he’d known him, with never a muscle locked in place. But now every one of them was permanently frozen.
The pathologist led him around the table, gently letting go of his hand to slide the sheet a little further down. So far, he’d only seen the top of Tobio’s head peeking out but now he could see his face, he prided himself on not reacting through the pain it gave him.
Because it did hurt to see. It hurt a lot.
“Take your time.” The pathologist told him, standing by for support, whilst Oikawa stared down at Tobio like nothing else existed.
There were marks over his arms, rope rashes he knew but his mind created other fantasies of fire and burns, which didn’t help. His lips were pale, full and swollen but pale, and there were teeth marks over the skin. Tobio’s own teeth, but he didn’t know how recent they were.
They could have been due to pre-game nervousness for all he knew and had nothing to do with this, but they were raw to look at and he felt faint the longer he did.
It distracted him from the rest of the body however as, despite the sheet covering most, the bruises there were apparent and he knew that there were more beneath the fabric. He both wanted and refused to look away, two hot tears falling down his cheeks in perfectly synchronisation until they slipped over his chin and splashed to the floor apart.
“I know this is difficult.” The pathologist began but he shook his head.
“It’s him,” He told her, sniffing once and finally glancing away, “It’s Tobio.” Nodding, the pathologist pulled the sheet back up and over Tobio’s face.
“Thank you. I’ll let the detective know for you.” She reached out to take his hand but he held it firm against his side. She paused, “Are you alright?”
“Yes. I just – can I stay?” He asked, staring down at the flecks in the concrete, “Just for a moment. I want – to say goodbye.” He sensed her hesitate, “I just want privacy. You can stay by the window and I promise I won’t touch the – I won’t touch him.”
“Of course.” She reached out again and this time he let her, “I can give you all the privacy you need for this, don’t worry. But are you sure you’ll be alright in here, alone?”
He nodded, “Yes.”
“Alright,” Stepping back, she pulled free a pair of disposable gloves and handed them to him, “You can touch, with these on. If you want to.”
“Thank you,” He peeled them on slowly, barely acknowledging the sound of her heels on the floor as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.
He knew that despite her assurance, someone would probably still be watching him but as long as they couldn’t hear what he had to say, he didn’t care.
Without the pathologist beside him now, he finally let his face crumple and had to quickly snag a chair to sit in before he fell. There was a metal one beside the table, undoubtedly put there for the very strong likelihood that ‘next-of-kins’ could faint when brought in here.
Which was what he bizarrely was himself. Tobio’s ‘next-of-kin’. As his soulmate, rejected or not, he’d been put down as a contact and had only discovered that fact upon his death.
He’d discovered a lot of things since Tobio’s death.
He’d discovered that Tobio’s parents had died at the start of his first year of high-school. He leant that Tobio had been living with an aunt before then living alone for university and then eventually moving in with a boyfriend back in Miyagi.
With his murderer.
The morning Oikawa’d been called and informed had been more of a blur than anything else. He had no idea how he’d gotten to the hospital today either or how he’d spoken to the police or the pathologist. All he could remember was the last time he’d seen Tobio face-to-face, almost three weeks ago now, and the last thing that he’d said to him.
The last thing he’d ever say to him.
He shut his eyes, hating himself.
‘Maybe the reason he’s so pissed at you is because you’ve clearly never gotten over your puppy-dog phase of following me around!’
Little had he known that the boyfriend, Ichisake Kanemoto, had been pissed for that very reason. And that that anger would eventually manifest into an argument which would lead to Tobio’s murder.
And the last thing he’d ever said to him had been –
Oh God.
“I’m sorry.” He choked, looking up at the body with his hands in his hair, his face burning, “I’m so sorry Tobio.”
He reached out with a gloved hand and wrapped it around Tobio’s wrist, wishing it was warm instead of cold, wishing he could feel a pulse against his fingers that wasn’t his.
But there was nothing.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, wanting to kiss him but the gloves only covered his hands and he didn’t want anything he did here to affect the case against Ichisake. Tobio’s body was evidence, and a kiss wasn’t worth causing something that might get that man freed.
No matter how badly he wanted to.
“I never meant it, you know.” He continued, aware of how stupid it was to talk to a dead body, but he couldn’t help it, “Any of it. Not even when we were kids.” He scoffed at himself, “God, I was beyond stupid. And I’m not just saying this because you’re dead. Okay? I’m not. I just – I need to finally say it. And I know I’m too late, I know. And I’m sorry, but – ”
He sucked in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes for a moment, “I should have said it a long time ago, I know. I should have told you years ago that I love you.” He wiped at his face, pretending that Tobio had reacted to that with disbelief, “I know! I didn’t even realise it myself, not until I saw you graduate. I came to see you, by the way. I didn’t say ‘hi’, so don’t feel bad for not seeing me. You just seemed so happy and I knew seeing me would ruin that so – I stayed back. Watched in the crowd.”
He smiled, remembering that day, “I saw you with your aunt. She looked so proud. I remember thinking, where are your parents? Could they not make it?” He looked up at the ceiling, willing his tears back but they fell anyway, filling his voice with a sorrowful thickness, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tobio’s body was silent in answer.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone they’d died? Why didn’t you tell anyone about Ichisake? You had friends, you idiot. They would have helped. I would have helped. Whether you believe it or not, I would have – ” He sighed, taking his hand off of Tobio’s wrist in case he started to squeeze in his anger and pain, “I would have done anything to keep you away from that bastard. I would have – ”
He stopped, realising he was shaking, “I’ve regretted everything since I rejected you. I regretted the way I treated you. The way I – I regret being such a coward. I convinced myself not to say anything to you, like I was waiting for some holy sign or something, and then before I knew it you’d moved on. You were in a relationship and I’d – I’d missed my shot.”
Gently, he brushed aside some of the strands of Tobio’s hair, just to see his face a little clearer only to bite his tongue when he saw the finger-shaped bruises over his cheek.
“I want him dead.” He whispered, brokenly. “I want him locked away forever, I want him to hurt. I want – I want you back. I want to say all the things I kept to myself. I want to take back the things I did say. I was just so fucking jealous and stupid and petty. And I’m so, so sorry.”
“I even argued with Iwa-chan over you, a few weeks ago.” He laughed without humour, “He told me some home-truths. I didn’t like them and we fought. He’s called me like eighty times today but I can’t talk to him. Not right now.”
Not like this.
He ducked his head, the tears having stopped now but his face was both wet and dry, cracking when he spoke, “How long was he hitting you?” He asked, more to himself now, “How long did it take for you to realise he was hitting you and not – not anything else? Not anything he explained it away as?”
He’d watched a YouTube video a while back of one of Tobio’s games and had seen a tiny clip at the end that had featured Ichisake. He’d been animatedly talking and Tobio had been stood nearby, listening, but now with more context he wondered what he’d been saying.
Had he been cruel? Had he been jealous?
The last time he’d seen Tobio, he’d said something vague about how Ichisake didn’t like his teammates but Oikawa had been too busy trying to get out of the conversation to really think anything of it. But now, had that been a warning sign of the man’s possessiveness?
Had Tobio been asking him for help?
“Could I have done something?” He asked the room, his gaze falling back on Tobio’s body, “Could I have stopped this? If I’d just listened to you? If I’d just – god. God please, don’t be true. Don’t make this my fault.”
He sobbed now, unable to hold it in any longer, and he hunched down with his face in his hands. The doors opened almost immediately and the pathologist ushered him out into a waiting room, getting him a cup of tea in a Styrofoam cup and sitting beside him until he was calmer.
The news was on as they sat there and when the story changed, he saw a glimpse of the headline, ‘Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio Murdered at 26 in his home, by boyfriend Ichi – ’, before the television was switched off.
“No.” He blinked, shocked he’d spoken aloud, “No please. I want to watch that. Please.”
Slowly, the pathologist lifted the remote and switched it back on.
The cameras showed Ichisake being arrested and the ambulance that had been outside Tobio’s house. More footage then showed protests and people demanding the death penalty.
Ichisake was some brand company CEO and a sponsor of sports, and his lawyers had to pass by the crowd to enter the police station, avoiding signs being shoved in their faces and fruit tossed at them. Police held the crowd back but neither lawyer entered the building clean.
The reporter told the viewers how Kageyama and Ichisake had met at University and that it was so sad to see a ‘rising star’ snuffed out so young. And then finally, a picture of Ichisake was shown, in full quality and nothing like the blurred images from his arrest that he’d seen so far.
Oikawa stared at it, drinking it in, wanting to know what a monster looked like but in the end, he looked completely normal.
Ichisake was tall, lean with a hint of stubble, sharp eyes and a long nose. He stared into the camera unforgivingly, his face blank with emotion, and despite knowing that it was because they used his ‘mug-shot’, Oikawa’s blood boiled at seeing the lack of empathy there.
He threw his cup before he even knew what he was doing, the tea splashing over the carpet, and the pathologist wordlessly switched the television off again.
Four days later, he was at a grief counsellor’s office and they spoke for more than two hours, the man’s words hitting a wall at first until eventually Oikawa began to listen.
He knew he was angry. He knew he was sad. He even knew he was guilty. He knew everything the counsellor told him he was but what he didn’t know was what to do with it.
When asked, he had one answer, “I want to kill Ichisake Kanemoto.”
Obviously that wasn’t the right answer but he was told that that feeling was completely understandable and that he should try to surround himself with friends and family at a time like this. But how could he? When he knew almost all of them would be aware of his and Tobio’s history and how his rejection had affected a lot of it.
How could he face them after this? When he knew they’d agree that this was his fault? When some part of him still denied Tobio was even dead at all?
The answer came to him two weeks later with a banging on his front door. He opened it bleary-eyed, having actively napped most of the day away, to see Hajime stood outside with a suitcase and a furious look.
Oikawa blinked at him, not sure if he was imagining things, until he was punched in the face.
“You fucking prick, I thought you’d done something stupid!” Hajime shouted, barging his way in and dragging Oikawa to the sofa to sit down, “No answers, no texts, nothing! I left hundreds of messages!”
“I know.” Oikawa told him, quietly.
“You know? Then why the hell didn’t you answer? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“No but I thought you might be.” Oikawa said, rubbing his cheek, “I didn’t think you’d fly all the way here though.”
Softening so quickly it was as though he hadn’t been angry in the first place, Hajime sat beside him and took one of his hands in both of his, “Of course I would, you dumbass. I’ve been trying to get time off work ever since this happened.”
“Well you didn’t have to.”
Hajime looked at him, “Hey,” He tugged on his hand until Oikawa looked at him as well, “No one knew, okay? No one. I called Sawamura-kun and he said they’re all confused and shocked. Apparently the chibi even met this Ichisake once and he said he didn’t notice anything weird.”
It was just like Hajime to know exactly what was affecting him, “I should have.”
“Why?” Hajime scoffed, “Because you were his soulmate? You barely saw each other, it wasn’t – ”
“I saw him a few weeks before it happened,” Oikawa cut him off, “He told me Ichisake didn’t like his teammates. That he was pissed off at him for having dinner with them after practice.”
“Yeah I know. You called me after you argued.” Of course he knew, it was why they’d fought, “And you told me what he said and I didn’t think anything of it either. So if that’s why you think this is somehow your fault then – ”
“No you don’t – you don’t get it, Iwa-chan!” He pulled his hand free and stood, pacing the room, “I was his soulmate, okay? I was his soulmate. And I didn’t feel it.” He pressed a hand to his face, “I didn’t even feel it when he died. I still don’t feel it! I didn’t even know until they called me to come identify the fucking body because he put me as his next of kin!”
“You were his next of kin? What – what about his parents?”
“Ha.” Oikawa glanced away, “His parents died during our third year of high-school.” Hajime bristled at that, “And his aunt died last year. So that left me as the last contact on his form, because even though I rejected him, he registered me as his soulmate. I’ve been on there for years apparently.”
Hajime stared, “His parents died?”
“Yeah.” Sitting back down again, Oikawa sighed, “Not at the same time but close enough. His dad was ill for years and when he died, his mum had a stroke about a month later. High-blood pressure or something. Or because of grief.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. She died in hospital and then he went to stay with his aunt.”
“How do you know this?”
“Doctor told me. When I asked why I’d been called and not anyone else.”
“You would never have guessed,” Hajime sat back slightly, looking at the wall ahead, “Looking at him back then.”
Oikawa frowned, “Maybe I should have. Through my mark.”
“You know that’s not how it works.”
“Do you know what the last thing I said to him was?”
“No. And I don’t want to know. You’re not doing this to yourself.” Standing, Hajime pulled him to his feet, “You’re not sitting in here feeling guilty over something out of your control. Ichisake is the murderer and his actions are his. Feel sad, feel regret, but don’t feel guilt.”
“It’s not that easy.” He whispered.
“Of course it’s not,” Cupping his face with his hands, Hajime brought their heads closer until their foreheads touched, “None of this is going to be easy. But I’m here for you, okay? I’m not going anywhere and I’m going to help you through this. Alright?”
Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, his conviction that he’d see blame in everyone’s faces so strong that to have it proven wrong now broke him. He slid his arms around Hajime’s shoulders and drew him in, crying hard into his neck and shaking like a leaf. Hajime held him through it, saying nothing and just letting him cry and cry until he was spent.
For the first time since Tobio’s death, he went out the next day to buy some groceries, cooking dinner for Hajime and him and trying to work through his grief. He ignored his mark as well, hating that it refused to fade and that it was intent on keeping the denial that Tobio was still alive. It was probably his guilt speaking but some nights he stared at the ceiling in his bed and felt so certain it was true.
He knew the only explanation for him not being dead would be some kind of conspiracy however and that real life was never really that dramatic. Tobio was dead and while he saw reminders of him wherever he went, he had to force the fact that he was gone time-and-time again.
So in the meantime, he concentrated on Ichisake’s trial instead, wanting to see if Justice would actually be served.
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