Chapter Text
Everyone he came into contact with tried to insist that aliens didn't exist, but Oikawa Tooru knew better. After all, they've given him a gift before.
When he was 6 years old, he had a strange dream. At the time, he didn’t know what was going on. To this day he still wasn’t exactly sure, but he had a clue and he wouldn’t stop until he found out what it meant.
In the dream, he found himself in a vast expanse of nothingness. He shouldn't have been able to see, but when he angled his head downwards, he could clearly see his reflection on a smooth, dark surface.
Something compelled Oikawa to reach down and press his hands against the reflection. As soon as his fingers brushed the surface beneath him, he felt someone tap his shoulder.
He glanced up to see broad hands holding out a volleyball. He couldn’t see the face of this person, but he could see their muscular body and make out what was a… volleyball uniform?
Oikawa stretched out and took the volleyball into his own small hands, studying it. At first glance, it looked like a typical volleyball; nothing out of the ordinary. He’s never actually held one before, but he assumed the textured surface and neatly stitched sections were normal. However, upon closer inspection he realized that there were words inscripted on the colorful parts.
Being only 6 years old, he obviously couldn’t read very well. Oikawa glanced up helplessly at the person before him, hoping they could tell him something.
To his surprise, he could now see the person’s face. Swept chestnut hair brushed over clever mahogany eyes stared back at him, paired with a knowing smirk. “It’s your calling,” a singsong voice replied to his unasked question.
“Who… who are you?” Oikawa knew, but he didn’t know what to else to say.
“I’m you but stronger,” the grown Oikawa Tooru said with a grin. He laughed at the visible confusion on his younger self's face. “Ah, right, you wouldn’t get that reference yet, would you?”
Young Oikawa shook his head in bewilderment. “What’s my calling? Why am I here?”
“To the first one,” the older Oikawa tapped his chin thoughtfully as he placed his other hand on his hip, “you’ll know what I mean when it comes. And to the second,” he leaned down and brought a hand up to cup his mouth, whispering conspiratorially, “aliens.”
Young Oikawa gasped and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything he woke up with a start.
He sat up in bed, looking around wildly for something, anything that could explain what just happened. His eyes settled upon an innocent looking volleyball sitting in the corner of his room. It didn't fool Oikawa though, because he knew it definitely wasn’t there before.
He got up and dashed over to it, eager to see if the same words were on the surface. On the way he accidentally knocked over one of his alien figurines in his excitement.
There they were—the words flashed golden for a moment before disappearing, turning into an oridinary volleyball.
He heard quick footsteps before his parents came rushing in after hearing the noise. “Tooru? What’s the matter—“
His mother’s words fell off as she noticed her son holding the volleyball with an intense concentration.
“Where’d you get that from, son?” Oikawa’s father asked.
“I don’t remember buying you a volleyball,” his mother added.
Oikawa turned those intense eyes to his parents as a huge grin split his face. “Aliens,” he simply declared before going over to replace the alien figurine that fell, volleyball still in hand.
Oikawa’s parents exchanged bewildered looks and concluded that they must have bought it for him and forgotten.
He knew better though. The aliens contacted him for a reason, and that single dream would change his life forever.
Oikawa Tooru cheered as he dragged an unwilling Iwaizumi Hajime through the door of the empty classroom, the rest of his sleepy junior high volleyball team in tow.
“We did it, we got it approved!” Oikawa’s bright laugh rang through the room, and it was infectious.
The rest of his volleyball team, and now members of the newly approved ‘Alien Research Club’, unwittingly smiled in return to Oikawa’s bubbling excitement.
Oikawa had dragged his teammates into this with no room for argument. They were the ones to blame, really. They had been teasing him about believing in aliens when Kindaichi offered encouragingly, “Maybe you should start an alien club while you’re at it, Oikawa-senpai!”
Although the statement in question was simply meant to calm Oikawa down, the brilliant concept had latched onto Oikawa’s brain and he couldn’t be shaken rid of it.
Kindaichi was ostracized in practice for the rest of the week, and their coach simply laughed when he was given an explanation. Oikawa was the only one who treated him kindly, and even offered to teach Kindaichi his special serve (purposely so Kageyama could hear).
Instead of being disappointed or deterred, however, Kageyama carefully watched from a distance and practiced on his own. Kageyama still looked up to Oikawa despite the harsh treatment he recieved from him.
Much to Oikawa’s displeasure, Kageyama looked up to him every aspect; not just in volleyball. This became evident when Oikawa announced the opening of the ‘Alien Research Club’, which would be held every morning before school in an empty classroom. Oikawa purposefully didn’t tell Kageyama, but Iwaizumi took pity on him and told Kageyama where it was.
When Oikawa turned around with a satisfied grin to assess his new club members, he noticed the top of a small blueberry head and in an instant it was replaced with a scowl.
Oikawa stuck out a threatening finger. “GAH! What are you doing here!?”
Iwaizumi smacked him across the back of his head. “Be nice, Crappykawa.”
The team all turned to see who Oikawa was talking about. Kageyama stepped forward shyly, his large blue eyes hopeful and pleading.
Oikawa turned his back to Kageyama, arms crossed and nose stuck in the air. “We don’t want you here, so you can go back home.”
To his dismay, the rest of his team immediately chimed in things like, “He should stay,” and “He’s definitely welcome here.”
Oikawa turned back around to gasp at them all in shock when Iwaizumi smacked the back of his head again.
“Either we’re all here or none of us are here,” he scowled at his best friend.
Oikawa rubbed his head and pouted indignantly. “Fine, fine,” he growled. “But,” he declared, once again pointing at Kageyama, “ you have to be the clean-up boy.”
A cheerful smile broke across Kageyama’s face and he nodded vigorously.
“And you,” Oikawa said, turning to face Iwaizumi, “ you no longer have vice president rights. Kunimi-kun will be my vice president, and you now have to be my secretary.”
Iwaizumi angled his head away, muttering under his breath, “I didn’t want to be here anyway.”
“What did you just say!?” Oikawa screeched. He grabbed the front of Iwaizumi’s uniform and shook him as hard as he could, Iwaizumi barely moving as he snickered at Oikawa’s appalled face.
One of their teammates coughed awkwardly, and Kunimi called out flatly, “Just get married already.”
Oikawa whirled around furiously. “Excuse me?” He stomped towards Kunimi and paused right before him. “Vice president rights revoked! Iwa-chan, you’re my vice president now. Kunimi-kun, you’re demoted.”
Iwaizumi sighed in exasperation and put a hand on his face as he closed his eyes.
Oikawa clapped his hands demandingly and went back to the front of the classroom. “Alright, let’s get things in order.”
Oikawa spent most of the meeting planning out a schedule—an actual schedule!—and at the very end he handed out “alien journals.” These, he explained, were for jotting down ideas they had and discoveries they made. Every weekend, they’d bring these journals and have a sleepover to discuss their findings.
He had designed each journal cover individually, drawing little aliens based off of each member that it was for. He also added little spaceship and alien stickers over the covers. Since he didn't anticipate Kageyama coming to the club, he scowled before quickly scrawling poop on a blank journal and handing it to him.
Kageyama took the journal and stared at it with an unreadable face. Oikawa thought he had finally made the little brat upset before Kageyama suddenly held it close to his chest and shot that irritating smile up at him. “Thank you, Oikawa-san!”
Oikawa scoffed and turned heel, returning to the front of the room. “The schedule I explained to all of you is also in the last pages of your journals. There's a calendar that marks when meteor showers are going to happen. If we don't have a game that night then we’ll get telescopes and watch to see if we can spot aliens!”
A dull voice chimed up from the back of the room, “Oikawa-san, are we really going to have to come here every morning?” Kunimi yawned to emphasize his point.
Oikawa just laughed merrily. “Of course we are, Kunimi-kun! I wouldn't have said so if we weren't going to follow through. Alright, classes are going to start in about 10 minutes so the very first meeting of the ‘Alien Research Club’ is officially over!”
There was a collective groan as the tired boys gathered their things and slowly trudged out of the classroom, a few yawning and one almost walking into the doorway.
Iwaizumi was the last one to leave besides Oikawa. He paused at the doorway and glanced back when he realized his best friend hadn't moved a muscle to exit the classroom. “Oikawa…?”
“Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi turned back to fully face inside the classroom, worried that something was wrong.
Oikawa gazed over at him, a soft and genuine smile spreading across his face. “Thank you so much, Iwa-chan. I’m really happy that we were able to do this today.”
In an instant Iwaizumi decided that he would come to this silly meeting every single morning if it made Oikawa this happy, if he could see him smile like that everyday. “Sure thing, Crappykawa. Alright, let’s go to class now.” He stood patiently as Oikawa gathered his things.
“Iwa-chan, so mean~~” Oikawa whined as he joined his best friend, bumping his shoulder lightly.
Iwaizumi just smirked, and they went off to class for the day.