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Iwaizumi Hajime is six years old and he is sure about three things.
One is that no matter what happens the sun will still rise every morning before setting later, in the evening.
Two, his parents love him more than anything, even if their constant (and endless) fussing is more of a pain to deal with than anything.
And three, he absolutely hates it when people cry.
Crying never solves anything, and Hajime finds it both stupid and gross. All blotchy faces and snot dripping from runny noses. Red eyes and pitiful little noises.
Yeah, Hajime absolutely detests crying.
Too bad for him that his best friend is a bloody crybaby that will cry for just about anything.
“Stop crying already!” Hajime demands, which of course only ends up making Tooru cry even harder.
“But, buut-“ the boy weeps where he is sitting in the ground, his fisted hands rubbing at his wet eyes while hiccuping. “Hajime-chan, it hurts.”
Hajime’s eyes automatically drags down Tooru’s body to his friends now dirt-stained knees that are rubbed raw and pink from when the boy bad stumbled over a root, causing him to plummet to the ground a moment ago.
“It does not,” Hajime bites back in irritation and Tooru’s body jolts on the spot and for a split second Hajime actually allows himself to believe that his friend might stop this stupidness, only for Tooru to dive directly into another heart-wrenching sob.
Hajime clenches his jaw.
“It is not even bleeding, shittykawa,” Hajime says stubbornly. Not that that does anything to stop the seemingly never ending wails that are now falling from Tooru’s lips.
Hajime purses his lips before finally giving in and sinking to his knees in the dirt in front of the other. He reaches out and grabs harshly around Tooru’s lower thighs to keep him in place as he starts to pick at the leaves and sticks that are struck to the other skin with a scowl, being more careful than he wants to admit.
“See,” Hajime says gruffly as he picks out another small rock, catching how Tooru lets out another hiccup in the corner of his eyes before the boy dares to peak down at his mangled legs, sucking in a breath. “You are fine,” Hajime adds, hoping it will stop him from starting to bawl his eyes out once more.
It does not.
“I am not fine.” Tooru whimpers, fresh tears starting to fall down his already tear streaked face. “It looks gross and disgusting- it hurts and I am never playing outside with you ever again, you can’t make me!”
Hajime just rolls his eyes and gets started on his friend's other knee. “I am telling you that it’s not that bad,” he huffs. “Mika fell out of a tree the other day and she didn’t even cry. Stop being such a wuss already.”
It’s only half a lie. Mika had shed a few tears, but she had tried very hard not too. Her tiny face scrunched up tightly together as she had bravely fought the pain.
Tooru on the other hand, not so much.
“Well, both you and Mika are stupid.” Tooru lifts his chin in defiance, his crying momentarily forgotten as he looks down at Hajime over his nose as if he is somehow better than him with his face all red and ugly and with snot running down his nose. “I don’t even know why I am friends with the two of you, you are both such brutes! If-“ Hajime reaches forward and flicks him on his forehead and Tooru shrieks and immediately brings his hands to the spot in order to protect himself from further attacks.
“Stop it!” he wails.
“You stop it, shittykawa.”
“No! You are mean and awful and I hate you!”
Hajime quirks up an eyebrow but doesn’t bother to yell anything back, he is more than used to Tooru being overly dramatic at this point anyway.
In front of him Tooru’s lips are wobbling, his tiny chin quivering and Hajime just knows that he is about three seconds away from starting up all over again.
Hajime heaves a sigh before reaching out towards the other. Tooru presses his tiny hands further against his forehead with a yelp and tries to shuffle backwards, but Hajime still has his leg in a steady grip and he keeps Tooru in place as he carefully starts wiping away the tears staining the boy's cheek.
It’s wet and gross, but the agape expression that Tooru gives him as he pulls back almost makes it worth it.
“Let’s go home,” Hajime says. “My mom can wash your knee properly, and I think that we still got some ice cream left in the freezer.”
Tooru immediately perks up at the promise of the sweet treat only to pause the moment after, probably remembering that he is supposed to be upset. Hajime snorts.
“Come on,” he says and Tooru purses his lips and flicks his gaze between his knees and Iwaizumi, clearly weighing his options against one another inside his head.
“It hurts, Hajime-chan,” Tooru says stubbornly, apparently not quite ready to stop playing the victim even when faced with Hajime’s promise of ice cream. “Carry me.”
Hajime just huffs and shoves at him before he pushes himself off the ground, bending his back as he dusts the dirt off his knees. “No,” he says, meeting Tooru’s eyes just as his friend's lips starts quivering, tears threatening to overflow and Hajime sighs before offering him his hand. “I will hold your hand though. But only if you stop being such a crybaby.”
Tooru pouts as he stares at Hajime’s offered hand a moment longer before making up his hand and taking it. Hajime helps pulling him to his feet before brushing off the dirt from the boys back while Tooru sniffles, his small fingers squeezing his hand.
They walk home together like that, Tooru stumbling a little every now and then and Hajime keeping him balanced.
“Hajime-chan,” Oikawa mumbles quietly when they take a right back onto their street and Hajime throws him a glance from the corner of his eyes. Tooru is keeping his eyes locked on the ground in front of him and head lowered, his bangs covering his eyes. “I don’t hate you, not really.”
Hajime just huffs and squeezes Tooru’s hand tightly.
“I know.”