Chapter Text
The first time had felt like his eyes were ablaze, liquid fire streaming down his cheeks as the pure-white pain he felt scorched his eye sockets. It took everything in him not to scream as he shut his eyes, hoping the tears and the deafening chime of soft twinkling echoing in his eardrums would stop. He had heard the first time was the worst, that the suddenness of it was enough to make your stomach churn and your heart turn inside out. It was too much too soon and he could only hold on as the sensation of galaxies leaking from his eyes thundered in his mind, filling it with a melody that he’d only heard in the form of a gruff voice, the perfect spike, and in warm embraces from a childhood memory of years ago. It was so distinctly Iwaizumi that there was no debate on who it could be. It was not like there was anyone else that he would rather spend every moment of every day with for the rest of his life.
He opened his eyes and was met with the stars he had cried for Iwaizumi, the only source of light available in the bathroom adjacent to his room. He stared at the swirling blues and greens and knew it would be the first color to go and wasn’t that just the icing on the cake? His eyes were much the same color, a swirl of emotion that crashed upon Oikawa like a tsunami, the kind that would leave no survivors in its wake, though he knew intimately it would not destroy. He knew it was not genuine, seldom was it so, it was simply the expelling of emotions with the names that could not be placed. For though Iwaizumi’s anger ran rampant like a tsunami, the wind did not tear the shillings off the roof of homes and did not bring down century-old trees, nor did the cold rain tear at skin and metal alike, nor did it leave tragedy behind; the tsunami was but a cool summer rain that he accepted with open arms for it was one of the only ways the other could express as tender words were hidden away.
So Oikawa stared into his hands, eyes searing as he cried the luminescent greens and blues of the night sky and he wonders why must he cry them for the very person who hung them in that expansive darkness for the world, for Oikawa, to see. He wonders where these stars come from and he wonders if they are the same ones that Iwaizumi and he gazed at when they were younger, and Iwaizumi had gifted him a telescope on his birthday. He wonders if those that they had seen had finally reached the earth, only to finish their journey in Oikawa’s eyes, destined to fall to his hands. He stands there, transfixed on those petite celestial flames and suddenly, the stars stopped falling and down fell the salty tears he knew so well, mixing with the milky white liquid, causing the bright lights to swirl with the water and it was almost like staring at the night sky.
He washes his hands and cheeks of Iwaizumi’s stars and lies in bed, chimes ringing in his ears although they had fallen silent when the last of the stars fell, only to be replaced with the ocean. It made little difference to Oikawa as the pain still tore at his heart, leaving a gaping wound in its wake.
The tears were a constant partner that he kept to himself, his little secret that he carries in the same little locked box in his heart that carries his feelings for Iwaizumi. The days carry on as if nothing were wrong, and there was nothing wrong, regardless of how dull and murky the green of the trees look or how their uniform looks as if it were washed one too many times in the wash, or that Iwaizumi’s green eyes are starting to seem gray instead of the green that Oikawa remembers from their childhood. Everything was fine and it does not matter what face Oikawa must use to hide behind, nor how many he must use, nor how Iwaizumi shoots him a questioning look only moments after seeing him in the morning. Everything is fine and Oikawa does not think of stars or a nostalgic, sweet song that rings from bells.
He wakes up one morning, and he sees gray where blue used to expand across the sky and sees gray where there was once green in the leaves of his mother’s witch-hazel tree. It is interesting, he thinks, as he sees that some of the leaves of the tree have already started fading to a yellow from the gray. He wonders what the next color will be. The thought is immediately dispelled from his mind and he continues on with the day, the absence of the familiar greens and blues hanging over his head as if they were a sword. Iwaizumi was here for the two of them to walk to school, like he always was, like he had done since they were tiny little things filled with mischief and adventure, a time where stars stayed in the sky and the sky was blue and the leaves were green. When he sees Iwaizumi, it almost feels like the sword would fall straight down and skewer him, as he sees Iwaizumi’s eyes are now gray. Oikawa must have stood there too long for Iwaizumi clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance and reached for Oikawa’s hand, pulling him out of the house and into a world that contained all colors but green and blue and all in between. “C’mon, Shittykawa. We’re going to be late and I still need to collect that cash from Mattsun,” The box in his heart creaks terribly at the warmth he feels from Iwaizumi’s hand and Oikawa feels like he could cry. It was cruel how something that was so commonplace between them now was torturous and painful. Iwaizumi turns, blind to the cruelty he does, pulling Oikawa further out of the doorway and Oikawa takes the time to close his eyes and breath, stars on the verge of falling and they were right. The second time was more bearable. Oikawa follows Iwaizumi because it was what he loved to do; he would follow the other to the end of the earth if Iwaizumi wished to visit it. Oikawa secures his mask, fortifies the tiny box the best he can despite the large crack in it, and gives out a laugh that may have been just a bit too gentle. “Don’t rush me, Iwa-chan! I had to get ready, I have to look perfect, y’know,” He can imagine Iwaizumi’s green gray eyes rolling and feels the box give one final creak as he follows after Iwaizumi, unknowing to the soft smile that spread across the other’s face, the sun in the summer rain. Oikawa wipes at the stray stream of stars and stares at his hand, seeing the last of the green he’d ever see in the world and he clenches the color of Iwaizumi's eyes.