Chapter Text
"Do you think we’ll ever get to meet an alien one day, Iwa-chan?"
The high-pitched squeaks of Mizunos and Asics echoed across the Seijō High Gymnasium; the constant aggressive impact of landing before immediately sprinting back—knees bent and forearms outstretched in ready position—created an endless cycle of friction and body heat. Only when the ball hit the ground were the teams able to catch their breath for a mere few seconds.
“Rotate!”
An excited yet inexperienced underclassman from the opposing team quickly grabbed the volleyball before smacking it against the ground and lightly spinning it into the air for good measure as he walked behind the end-line.
The brunette captain on the opposite side of the net adorned a loose smile contrasted by the intensity of his pupils as he looked around at his teammates and hand-signed the corresponding set he would play.
All eyes watched the player closely as the server took his first steps forward, tossed the ball high into the air, jumped, and swung his arm to reach contact—all in one continuous momentum while never leaving sight of the ball’s trajectory over the net.
10.00…
“DEEP!”
9.00…
“MINE!”
8.00…
The brunette effortlessly tossed a back set to his right-side hitter.
7.00…
Aimed at a clear opening on the other side of the net, the hard spike broke through the block.
6.00…
The libero on the opposing team ferociously dived to save the ball, managing to pass it well over the net.
5.00…
“FREE BALL!”
4.00…
“MINE!”
3.00…
Although making eye contact with his right-side hitter, the team captain feigned a set towards the other’s side as he lightly pushed the ball with the pads of his fingers just above the net, effectively dumping it over.
2.00…
The entire court held its breath—waiting in anticipation for the loud smack of leather against the gym floor.
1.00…
0.00…
“Don’t be dumb, Oikawa. Of course we will. In fact, I’m looking at an ugly one right in front of me.”
As the blaring buzz of the scoreboard rang through his ears, beads of sweat cascaded down Oikawa’s face and either slipped underneath his turquoise jersey or fell to their death between his volleyball shoes.
He took a deep breath while stretching his arms and adjusting his knee pads, “Okay, guys! That concludes today’s practice! Nice work, as always!”
“Hey, Oikawa-senpai, that game was no fair in any way whatsoever!” the underclassman who had just served complained, “Next time, you’re definitely gonna be on my team!”
“Yeah, well, I guess I just can’t help being so popu—”
Strands of chestnut hair abruptly fell over Oikawa’s eyes as a familiar calloused hand slapped his head from behind.
“Oi, shut up, good-for-nothing-narcissist—”
“Hey, Iwa-chan, what gives? That hurt,” the brunette whined.
Iwaizumi's scowl deepened, “Good, it was meant to.”
The rest of the players began to break down the nets and pick up the remaining volleyballs littered across the gym as the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor was replaced with the usual banter between their captain and vice captain.
“You’re just a sore loser who’s jealous because your team didn’t win, and every team I’m on always wins—” Oikawa muttered.
“Huh, what was that?”
“Oh, is Iwaizumi’s gorilla ears failing him now?”
“I swear—I don’t know how I’ve kept up with you for this long—”
“We’re about to graduate, Iwa-chan. We’re seniors—practically adults now, so you can’t keep treating me like this—you know what, that’s an order from your captain!”
“Well, I would if you could stop acting like a child all the time.”
“Hey—”
“ Ahem .”
The two quickly looked up to see the head coach’s judgeful eyes as he sighed deeply in disappointment.
“I see the team can do just fine looking after themselves once you two leave.”
Iwaizumi and Oikawa looked around to see most of the equipment had been neatly put away and over half the players had already left the gym in search of a place to eat out before heading home.
“Ah, my apologies, Coach. Oikawa and I will make sure to close up the gym before we leave,” Iwaizumi formally addressed.
“Yes, good work, as usual. Oh, don’t forget to see me tomorrow to discuss your future plans, as well.”
“Of course!”
“Will do!”
“I look forward to hearing from you two, and you especially, Oikawa,” the head coach turned towards his much accomplished athlete.
He paused briefly before waving his aged hand, “Keep up the good work, and have a good night!”
After seeing Coach Irihata out, Iwaizumi shut his eyes and released an exasperated sigh before his thoughts were interrupted with the sound of a lone volleyball repeatedly being spiked against a wall.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump—
The sound came to a sudden halt.
“Iwa-chan!”
He turned around to see Oikawa on the opposite side of the gym holding a stray volleyball, that had forgotten to be put up, between his arm and hip.
“Come on, let’s pepper!” The boy tilted his head.
Iwaizumi quickly turned away, ignoring the setter, while striding over to grab his water bottle that was left on the front bleacher; leaning his head back to take in greedy gulps, he felt the cold chill of water mix with perspiration as rivets slowly slid down his chin.
“I know you’re ignoring me, Iwa-chan!!”
As he felt the last drop of water coat his tongue, the hitter’s grip tightened around the bottle.
“Tsk, shouldn’t we be getting ready to leave?!”
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Beginning to smack the ball against the ground impatiently, Oikawa’s gaze attempted to bore holes into his childhood friend’s back.
“You know I can’t leave just yet!”
Thump… Thump…
Finally turning around, Iwaizumi placed his water bottle back down before starting to make his way towards the other.
“But…” Iwaizumi began.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
His pace hastened to a sprint, and he reached the boy still hitting the poor ball in a drone-like monotonous rhythm.
“... I can!” Iwaizumi yelled as he swiped it away from the other’s hands.
“Hey, Iwa-chan! That wasn’t a very nice thing for you to say, you bully.”
“Hey!”
“We. Are. Done. Here. Oikawa,” his words dripped with venom.
Iwaizumi emphasized each syllable while briskly walking away, volleyball in hand, towards the storage closet. However, a hand from behind sharply grabbed his shoulder, making him come to an abrupt stop.
“Wait a second, what gives? It’ll just be for a few minutes, besides—think of it as our cool down stretches, alright?”
The ace’s mouth opened before closing, lips forming a tight line as his dark eyebrows scrunched together, and his mind tried to process any opposition; he huffed and mindlessly turned the ball over in his rough hands but ultimately knew he had a weak spot for his friend's pleading looks—although he’d never acknowledge it out loud.
“Ugh, yeah, whatever, fine… if it’s just for a ‘few minutes’ though, okay?”
“See, you know I’m always—”
“Before I change my mind.”
“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah.”
“You are so insufferable.”
The two third-year athletes made their way towards the center of the gym before separating a few feet apart. Holding the ball with both hands now, Iwaizumi lightly tossed it straight into the air before bumping it towards Oikawa with his forearms.
Bump, set, spike. Bump, set, spike. Set, spike, bump.
Both immediately fell into a natural cadence as words were no longer spoken but were instead expressed through the calculated footwork, as if the two were following a dance routine... through the intense gaze that never left the ball, as if starving predators stalking their prey... through the deep inhale and exhale of tired breaths, as if climbers on a mountain expedition... and through the harsh contact of leather against flesh, as if a whip on a horse…
The two continued their competitive display of experience—moving together as one fluid body. No words were needed to communicate between them as each knew exactly what the other’s next move, next step, and next thought would be.
Iwaizumi’s calculating and unwavering hits paired together with Oikawa’s lopsided smirk and fierce power….
Together, they were unstoppable.
“Oikawa, don’t lie to me…”
Oikawa’s knee suddenly began to throb against his knee pad.
“About your future plans…”
Set, spike, bump.
“... You’re going overseas, aren’t you?”
Right before Oikawa could release the ball from his set, his fingers twitched, causing him to falter for a single millisecond. Iwaizumi lunged to save the ball, worn-down knee pads barely scraping against the gym floor, but before the ball could touch the ground, it was immediately back up.
“Oika—”
“Yeah.”
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Oikawa swallowed hard and licked his chapped lips as the gym lights seemed to shine glaringly bright all of a sudden; nevertheless, the silent rally continued.
Thump… Thump…
“So—”
“Argentina.”
This time, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to miss the ball. The two players watched as the ball came into contact with the ground. It was officially dead.
“Ah, my bad,” Iwaizumi sheepishly voiced out loud.
Although he turned to look towards Oikawa, whose light-brown eyes were still staring at the ball rolling across the gym, he didn’t want to hear anymore. He knew they were bound to separate, but he had only wished the rumors of his childhood friend playing abroad were nothing more than that, rumors, but he also knew it was something ambitious enough for the teen to do.
“I’m going to play in Argentina.”
“Yeah, I heard you,” Iwaizumi reluctantly jogged across the gym to catch up to the volleyball.
“I have only three days after graduation until I leave—”
The vice-captain began to feel his face grow hotter and slowed down; he felt his chest tighten.
“Tsk, I mean, I know I always call you a player but wow—Argentina? Are you trying to date the next Miss Universe or something?" Iwaizumi whistled, “To be honest, they might even be out of your league…”
“Iwa—”
“Don’t get me wrong, Argentina sounds perfect for you…”
“Iwa-cha—”
“Warm weather, beaches— oh, do you even know how to speak Spanish? While you're at it, maybe you’ll even learn how to tango, ha!”
“Iw—”
“Oh, and isn’t Argentina where that setter you’ve been obsessing over since elementary school lives? What’s his name again? George Blanche? Joseph Blue? José Blanco?”
“ HAJIME! ”
Iwaizumi quickly turned around towards the setter as his name reverberated throughout the high-ceiling.
In the distance, some meters away, Oikawa silently stood at the center of the gym, staring directly at the wing-hitter with a flurry of incomprehensible emotions passing through his eyes. Iwaizumi felt an unwelcome chill go down his spine. He was well familiar with the appearance; it was a look Oikawa always attempted to hide behind a forced smile after losing a match against Shiratorizawa—against Ushijima—a look of anger, hurt, and exhaustion.
Drenched in sweat with his face flushed, Oikawa exhaled a tired breath, as if releasing his last, and softly muttered, “I’ll be on the complete other side of the globe, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi bent his head downward as he turned his gaze towards his shoelace. The pregnant silence became unbearable, so he picked up the lone ball and walked it back into the storage room.
After fumbling to slip off his knee pads, Oikawa went into the locker room to pack his gym bag and turned on the sink, allowing cool water to flow over the tender, yet calloused, red palms of his hands before splashing water onto his face.
“Oh, but Iwa-chan! If I—no—when’ I go to space, I’ll make sure to bring back a real alien friend for you to meet!”
A sudden shiver shook his body as icy water ran down his neck while he pushed his wet and unruly hair back; he looked into the mirror before slapping himself hard on the cheeks.
“But won’t you become lonely in space?”
He went back into the gym to find Iwaizumi waiting for him.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Both attempted to wave away the awkward tension blanketing the atmosphere.
“Let’s close up, it’s getting late, Shittykawa. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
Thump… Thump…
Plastering a fake, toothy grin in an attempt to make things "normal" again, Oikawa jokingly replied, “Sure thing, Boss.”
“Ugh, just shut up.”
The two made sure to turn off the gym lights and locked the doors before walking into the crisp, spring evening; trees swayed to the soothing chirps of crickets in the distance.
Thump.. Thump.. Thump…
Oikawa’s wandering eyes were drawn up to the pale, milky disk surrounded by the white splatters of paint across the dark sky. He carefully noticed how the soft light illuminated his friend’s sharp features, a juxtaposition—just like them.
Thump… Thump…
And he couldn't help but realize his heart pounding in his chest, that had once been muted by the deep sound of a force coming into contact with a volleyball, was now deafening his ears while just in the company of his ace.
“Well, that’s easy. I’ll just pick a star and name it after you. So, it's like I’m talking to Iwa-chan!”
Oikawa closed his eyes as he desperately tried to burn the feeling into his memory.
"Hey, but don't forget to come visit me on Earth, too!"