Archive of Our Own ^beta

How do you let go of your soulmate?

---

Otousan:

Hajime, are you still at home? 

I seem to have forgotten some important documents on my desk. 

Could you check if they are there?

Hajime:

The black folder with the hospital logo? It’s here. 

Can you get your assistant to come over?

Otousan:

Actually Shinji-kun is on leave

Hajime:

So do you want me to bring them over?

Otousan:

Only if you’re free.

Hajime:

It’s fine.

Otousan:

Thanks a lot. Drive safely.

Hajime stared at the exchange he had with his father, thinking about how that was probably the longest conversation they’ve had in months now. It’s fine. What a huge lie.

He was sure being the chief physician of the biggest local hospital has its perks and one would be its abundance of assistants and people you could boss around. He certainly didn’t need Hajime for this—but he already offered and now he was on his way to the place he had been avoiding like a plague for the past two years. 

He had promised himself he would never go back to the hospital, and he had managed to do just that. He couldn’t believe he would break his promise just to deliver some stupid documents.

Never mind that hospitals terrified him; that they always reminded Hajime of the death of his mother three years ago after she spent fighting the tumor in her head for two long years. Never mind that Iwaizumi had to helplessly watch life being slowly chipped away from her; how the side effects of hundreds of drugs being pumped into her system changed her personality to the point that he couldn’t even recognize her anymore.

Honestly, if not for his mother’s dying wish to try to get along with his father, he would have gone off to Tokyo for college and stopped talking to him all the same. Not like it mattered, because his father never really actively participated in raising him, anyway. Even when his mother was alive, he always prioritized his career over his family. 

But then again, ever the dutiful son to his mother, he chose to honor her wish and decided to attend the local university so he could stay back in Miyagi. And now, he’s even doing errands for his father—his mother would be proud.

Hajime:

I’m here in the parking lot.

Otousan:

Great, you’re just in time. Let’s meet at the lobby in ten minutes.

He sighed, realizing this was what he had been fearing all along, but knew it was inevitable anyway. He looked up at the imposing building ahead of him, its boxed shape feeling more like a coffin than a hospital. Just looking at it makes his skin crawl and stomach churn. 

Swinging the car door open, he rushed to a nearby trashcan to throw up. Fuck all of this, he muttered under his breath as he spat out the remaining bile and washed his mouth with some water from the jug he kept in his bag.

Relax. In and out as quickly as possible. You’ll be fine. 

He felt pathetic having to pep talk himself into getting inside the building, but he eventually summoned enough courage and self-control to do what he was supposed to do. Pulling up the hood of his jacket to his head, he traced the steps he took a hundred of times before, years ago.

The nostalgia that hit him was even worse when he entered the hospital lobby. The wide automatic sliding doors opened up to him and he was slapped with the strong scent of disinfectant masked by an artificial sweet flowery fragrance with an undertone of bleach. It was revolting.

The lobby has as much personality as the entire hospital itself. There were doctors and nurses walking around conversing with each other or holding clipboards looking as pensive as they are purposeful in the way they walked and talked; there were paramedics wheeling patients from one hospital wing to another, and visitors holding various gifts lining up for the elevators.

He kept his head low, focused on his reflection at the warm beige laminated floor, and felt the dove-colored walls and ceiling closing in on him. The glass doors and windows on the first floor gave enough natural light to spill through the lobby but he still felt trapped.

Everything—every single detail was just too familiar. 

Take a breath. Relax. He kept repeating as panic began bubbling inside him and before he drowns in it, he made the decision to march to the front desk and just leave the document there for his father to pick up. Anything to make him get out of there faster.

A familiar-looking girl sitting behind the desk perked up upon seeing him. He couldn’t recall her name but the woman seemed to know him. He also sort of remembered her, dark curly hair, beady eyes, he was sure he talked to her before.

“Ah, Hajime-kun! Long-time no see! How have you been?” She greeted him when he approached. She obviously knew him because she began asking if he was there for his father and should she page him to which he responded no and that he’ll just leave something for him. 

Without even looking at her, he rummaged inside his backpack and produced the black folder with his father’s files. He handed it to her and that should have been the end of it, but instead, she had to say, “I’m glad you could come to the hospital again. The chief was worried about you.”

Worried? He almost barked out a laugh. His father never worried about him. If he did worry, he’d go home more often and actually try talking to him. But he didn’t want to be rude to the woman so he nodded and said, “Just tell him I left already for school.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He circled back from where he came from and rushed towards the automatic doors, determined to get the hell out of there when he collided onto something—no, not something, but someone.

“Ow! Ow!” It was a guy—and the first thing he thought of was, I hope it’s not a patient.

“Shit, I’m sorry! Are you alright?” He didn’t know how fast he was going but Hajime only staggered back while the person he crashed with was now sitting flat on the pavement, looking up at him with a lost expression before he came to his senses and apologized as well, “Oh, I’m sorry. I was spacing out again and bumped into you.”

Hajime offered his hand to help, which the guy promptly took. He pulled him up and the smell of something close to strawberries and cream wafted from him—which he thought was a weird smell for a guy to have, but considering how this guy looked, the scent didn’t come off as so unnatural.

The guy wasn’t conventional-looking. Deep chocolate brown eyes and hair—styled in a way that reminded him of those puffed up teenage popstars his female classmates would always swoon at. He looked like one of them, flawless skin, gentle features, tall and lean figure (probably a few centimeters taller than him)—and he had this gaudy clothes that made it seem like he came out of an overrated fashion magazine.

All in all, he looked like someone Hajime would completely avoid.

His smile was also a completely different story. It was almost too bright for it to be sincere. Hajime hated it. The guy scratched the side of his head looking embarrassed, “I’m sorry I bumped into you. I could be absent-minded at times and I just—wait, where’s my cake?” 

Cake? Only when the guy mentioned it, did Hajime notice a pink box a few feet away from where the guy got knocked down. From the looks of the box itself he just knew that the cake didn’t survive the fall.

How troublesome. He was about to tell him that he’d just replace or pay for the cake, but was surprised when the guy fell on his knees right in front of the ruined box and cried, “Oh no! Not after I went through all the trouble just to get this!”

“Are you guys alright?” Some of the hospital staff who saw what happened approached them to check if anybody was injured. Crap. Hajime could recognize some of them, which meant that they would be able to recognize him as well.

“Oi, stop making a scene. I’ll just buy you a new one.” His plea didn’t came off as a command which was a bad idea because the guy raised teary eyes at him and Hajime was taken aback. 

What the fuck is this guy’s problem crying over a cake? The dramatic brat whined harder, “It’s not that easy!”

Honestly…. how could it be so hard? “It’s just a cake. Just.. get up and…”

“Areee… is that the chief’s son?” Someone from the lot asked as other people approached them. Hajime turned away from the crowd and looked back at the guy who was still whining over a stupid cake. If this fucker just took his money and—

“Hajime?”

He wheeled around to find Iwaizumi Akihiko, standing by the entrance looking straight at him. 

He looked nothing like his father. He was statuesque in his doctor’s coat, and when he moves—an air of authority follows him. He has this deep-set smoky gray eyes which would always be unreadable. He had the same hair color as Hajime’s, but so does eighty percent of the population in Japan so that doesn’t really count. 

He looked confused, which was huge considering his father always wore the same emotionless, stoic mask he calls his face all his life, but Hajime couldn’t really blame him considering what he’s looking at.

When he saw his father open his mouth as if to call him or maybe say something, he bolted right away, leaving the whining guy and his stupid cake; and the rest of the hospital behind him. 

Of course, he didn’t make it to his car before he had to throw up again, this time with a greater force than the first one.

He hated himself for doing this—he knew he wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready a year ago, and he won’t be ready a year from now. So why did he have to put himself through all of this for a stupid request from a man who was barely there for him? 

“Hey, you!”

He hasn’t even recovered from his self-loathing when someone touched him by the shoulder. He flinched and swiped the hand away, “What the fuck do you—” It was the cake guy, “Oh, it’s you.”

Cake guy looked bothered, his brown eyes were focused on him and he was worrying his lip, “Are you alright? You look sick.”

“Huh? No, I’m just…” Tasting the bitter bile on his tongue, he took the bottle of water from his bag and drank a generous gulp to wash away the awful taste.

“That doesn’t look like it… do you want to go back to the hospital? I’m sure they could—”

“No!” He snapped, shocking the other guy before he felt like a complete loser for lashing out like that and collected himself, “Just… what do you want?”

The guy blinked at him confusingly before frowning and showing him the ruined cake box, “You told me you’d replace this.”

Ah, right. He sighed, taking his wallet from his pocket, “How much is it?”

The man shook his head and raised his hands, “Oh no, I won’t accept your money. You said you’d replace the cake so I want it replaced.”

Hajime frowned at him in disbelief. What the fuck is this guy’s problem? What difference does it make if he just paid for the cake or buy him a new one? 

He looked at the box again, it didn’t look anything homemade so there’s just no way it would be irreplaceable. Maybe it came from one of the cafés near the hospital and if they get there sooner, he could still make his afternoon class.

“Fine. Fine. Where did you buy it? We could go right now.” He took his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He still had approximately more than thirty minutes to spare before he had to be in class.

“Oh sure. It’s from a little cake shop in Shinjuku.”

Hajime openly gaped at the guy, “You did not just say Shinjuku, right? The one in Tokyo.”

The guy smiled, “Oh, that’s exactly what I said.” Then he gave a dramatic pout, “Like I told you, it took a lot of effort for me to get it so it really is a shame that you made me drop it.”

“Earlier ago, you also claimed responsibility saying you were spacing out.”

“Ah, I don’t recall ever saying that.” The guy chimed in feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m most definitely not.”

Hajime groaned, feeling a migraine forming at the back of his head at this insufferable man. As if I needed more reasons to know the decision to go to the hospital was a mistake.

“You know, if we go right now, we might be back before dark.”

“I am not driving to Tokyo. Besides, I have afternoon classes.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

Hajime was hoping they could sweep this entire thing under the rug, until the guy snapped his fingers as if a great idea came over him. Hajime highly doubts that.

“How about this weekend? You probably don’t have classes during weekends.”

He was right, but he didn’t have to know. “What made you so sure? Also, even if I don’t have classes, why would I drive all the way to Tokyo just to buy your stupid cake when we could just buy something from—”

“…but that was from my mother’s favorite shop.” His voice and his face changed the moment he mentioned his mother. 

Hajime paused and examined the taller guy. He didn’t look unhealthy and definitely didn’t look like he was part of the hospital staff. Also, the fact that he brought a cake to the hospital meant he was visiting someone—his mother, as he said. 

His expression was the same one Hajime wore when his mother was deathly ill and he wanted to bring her every little thing her heart desired, even if it took all day for him searching for it. He just wanted to bring her happiness even in the littlest possible ways.

Call it kindred spirits, but the guy somehow reminded him of himself and suddenly, he sort of understood. Sighing in defeat, he raised his hands in exasperation “Fine. I’ll only be free in the afternoon.”

“Yatta!” The mood change was suspiciously quick and Hajime wondered if it was all just an act. Before he could point this out, the taller guy already grabbed Hajime’s phone and began typing his number, “Let’s exchange numbers.”

“Oi, don’t just grab things that aren’t yours.” Hajime hissed but the guy had already dialed whatever number he had saved on his phone and an annoying pop song began playing. He whipped out his own phone and canceled the call himself, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name is huh? That’s a unique name. What’s your last name?”

“Are you stupid?”

“So, Huh Areyoustupid?”

“Do you want to die or what?”

A look passed over the guy’s expression that softened the leer on his face but it was gone as soon as it came. Huh. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” He responded.

“Hajime. That’s such a pretty name.” 

“Don’t just go around calling people on their first names.”

“But Iwaizumi is such a mouthful.” He complained… and then his face brightened up and Hajime felt something akin to unease at his shrewd expression, “How about Iwa-chan?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Iwa-chan. It’s short and it rolls off the tongue nicely. I guess I’ll just call you that.”

“Oi—”

“Ja na, Iwa-chan. I’ll be sure to message you soon.” He gave Hajime a peace sign before he waved him goodbye and scurried away before Hajime could stop him.

“Oi! Are you even listening?!” Hajime yelled but the guy just kept walking. Hajime could have followed him but the guy’s direction was towards the hospital and he really didn’t want to go back. 

The last thought in his mind was he didn’t even know the guy’s name but when he looked down at his phone and there it was—the new addition in his old contact list. The name was preceded by an annoying set of emojis.

♪v(' ∇ '*) ⌒ ☆ Oikawa Tooru

---

♪v(' ∇ '*) ⌒ ☆ Oikawa Tooru:

Yahoo! Iwa-chan, are you there?

Iwa-chan? Hello?

You didn’t forget our date tomorrow?

Iwa-chan:

What date, you shit?

♪v(' ∇ '*) ⌒ ☆ Oikawa Tooru:

Oh, you’re aliiiive!

Also, why are you calling me shit? I’m adorable.

Iwa-chan:

Yeah? Says who?

Also, I’ve had enough of your stupid nickname,

I’m changing your name on my phone.

♪v(' ∇ '*) ⌒ ☆ Oikawa Tooru:

Oh, what pet name are you giving me?

You know, unlike you, I won’t mind you calling me Tooru.

My name’s pretty, anyway.

Iwa-chan:

How does your ego fit in that tiny body of yours?

Oikawa:

You’re smaller than me, Iwa-chan.

Also, what a boring pet name.

Iwa-chan:

Shittykawa.

That fits you well.

Oikawa:

You wouldn’t dare!!!

Shittykawa:

What the actual fuck?!

Iwa-chan:

I’ll be free around 2.

Shittykawa:

Hey! Don’t ignore me!

Change my name right now.

Iwa-chan:

I have morning practice tomorrow. You want to meet up by the gate of uni?

Shittykawa:

That time works for me and yeah, we can meet by the gate. 

But change my name now!

Iwa-chan:

I’m going to sleep.

Shittykawa:

Oi! Change my name.

Oi!

Oi, Iwa-chan!

I’ll keep messaging you if you don’t change my name.

Iwa-chan:

I’m turning off my phone.

Hajime didn’t turn his phone off because he still needed the alarm—but he did silence his phone and removed all notifications before he slipped it under his pillow with an impatient huff.

Oikawa had been texting him all week. Initially, he thought that not replying to his messages would discourage him from texting him a lot, but soon figured out that it did the opposite effect as Oikawa would text him more just to get a rise out of him. 

So he did reply—but only to answer his important messages which built up probably just four percent of Oikawa’s total messages because the guy feels this need to update and send him different photos of things or people he would see throughout the day. Hajime found it annoying, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for his phone every time it buzzed with a new update from Oikawa.

He learned a few things about him as well. He’s a film major in their university which means his building is just a short minute walk from the science department where Hajime takes most of his classes as someone majoring in sports science. Not that it mattered to him.

Oikawa also thinks his major is really cool and Hajime will never admit that the feeling is mutual. From their exchanges, he also knew that he’s also taking some electives in animation and he’s working on an animated short film using what he learned. Every now and then, he would send Hajime clips and samples from this project. Hajime particularly liked these updates because at least they’re not that useless. Of course, he would rather eat hot coal than admit that these animated clips were pretty damn impressive.

Despite majoring in film, however, the guy has an abhorrent taste in films. He would always recommend some god-awful sci-fi and alien films to Hajime, telling him he’s missing a lot for not watching them. Hajime told him that the only sci-fi film he liked is Godzilla and Oikawa called him a heretic.

---

“What happened to you?”

Hajime frowned at the huge ugly brown patch decorating Oikawa’s forehead which was the first thing he noticed when the guy entered his car.

“Oh don’t mind this. I just tripped and fell down the stairs.” He gave a lighthearted chuckle, “I told you, I’m just really clumsy.” 

Hajime studied him—the smile on his lips seemed wrong… but he shrugged it off because it was stupid to think he knew the guy enough to recognize if he was faking a smile or not, especially when his points of reference were the countless photos the guy would send him incessantly throughout the day.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.” He said, more to himself than to Oikawa. He didn’t like how he reacted to Oikawa’s injuries nor his fake smile. It wasn’t like they knew each other well enough for him to care about the guy. He was just surprised because for all the bullshit Oikawa was sending him this entire time, he failed to mention that he had some form of accident and injury, but whatever. 

“Do you know where we’re going?” Oikawa asked softly. He hummed in response. He had saved it last night in his phone as he didn’t want to hassle himself today.

“That’s very responsible of you. Looking it up ahead of time.”

“Yeah, only because you won’t shut up about it and also because I don’t like getting lost.”

“As expected from a stickler like you.”

“What did you just call me?!”

“You should know that getting lost is part of the adventure, Iwa-chan.” He crooned, putting extra emphasis on the pet name.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Hajime hissed, “And also, I’m sorry that I don’t want to waste my time finding my way to that cake shop because I don’t really have much time nor patience.”

Oikawa gave him a soft smile, “Well, I guess you’re right.” There it was again. The weird, solemn look that passed his eyes in a fleeting moment before he schooled his face back to its usual glee, “Also, your nickname is a lot better than the mean nickname you gave me in LINE.”

“What are you saying? That nickname fits you perfectly.” Hajime grinned in mock ignorance and Oikawa seemed like he was about to say something but changed his mind at the last minute. Instead he beamed at him, “I guess, it’s fine.”

“What? Giving up already? Didn’t take you for a quitter.”

“If it meant I get to see you smile, then yes. I concede. But only this time.” Oikawa hummed nonchalantly and Hajime was left speechless, wishing his face didn’t look as red as it felt.

“It’s gloomy here. Can we play some music?” Oikawa suggested, “Do you have any song or anything at all in your music library?" He didn’t even wait for Hajime to answer, and already, he began fiddling with the settings in the car’s dashboard.

“Oi, don’t just touch anything.” He snapped but Oikawa paid him no mind, “Oh, you have such a boring library. What is up with just listening to audiobooks?”

“What’s wrong with audiobooks?”

“Nothing if you listen to a lot of them. But listening to three books of David Mitchell over and over again?”

Hajime didn’t have it in him to deny and tell him that he had other books because he really didn’t have any. Also, he wasn’t even the one who put it there, his teammate and classmate, Kuroo Tetsurou did, that one time they drove to the beach and sat in complete silence for a complete hour before it got incredibly awkward and he forced these books on him. I like driving in silence, he told him and Kuroo just called him weird.

“It’s a lot better than to listen to your awful pop playlist.” Hajime scoffed. He didn’t really know if that was true and just judged it based on that one pop song Oikawa used as a ringtone. Well, if you didn’t like a song, why use it as a ringtone?

“What is wrong with pop songs? They’re fun to sing along to. But… I would have you know that I am a man of many cultures which means I listen to almost anything.” Oikawa proudly announced.

“Fine. Just none of that crap that sounded like your ringtone.” 

“Sure!” He chirped before going back to work on the settings of his car. Hajime focused on driving wondering what kind of tacky music Oikawa would play when he got surprised to hear a familiar song.

🎶 I've got a suitcase on hold

I've filled it with things

That we'll need if we take to the road

He raised a brow at the guy, “I didn’t picture you as someone who would listen to Fort Atlantic. Not bad.” Oikawa didn’t answer him but just gave him a grin and a thumbs up. Hajime found out a little later that it was because he didn’t want to interrupt the song.

🎶 No one will miss us if we just go

Hey now, no one will know...

---

Shinjuku was a lively labyrinth of dizzying colors and lights. They arrived a little over five in the afternoon—not completely dark yet, but the streets were already lit up by the giant electronic billboards playing video after video of advertisements—with the latter always flashier than the previous.

Tokyo always overwhelmed him, but Shinjuku was just on another level of crazy. It’s flashy, ostentatious and loud—and he couldn’t believe how Oikawa looked at home in this chaos, but he did. It was surreal how his eyes looked brighter and livelier as the different lights drew patterns onto his skin. He looked almost unreal, Hajime thought.

He was left dumbstruck and hypnotized at the man who winked at him and held out his hand as if he was asking him to dance to a song that only they could hear—except Hajime couldn’t hear it. Instantly, he regretted ditching the car in the parking lot because Oikawa wanted to experience the city.

“Let’s go. I know a shortcut.” Oikawa insisted when Hajime merely stared at the hand, hating himself for actually considering in taking it. “Come on. It’s only normal to hold each other’s hands when you go somewhere unfamiliar so you won’t get lost.”

It took a few seconds for the logical part of his brain to kick in and he swatted the hand away, “Shut up. I can spot your big head anywhere.” He said, when what he really meant to say was that a spotlight always seemed to follow Oikawa wherever he is. But to admit to Oikawa that he thinks he is a pretty good-looking guy would be like signing a death sentence.

Oikawa shrugged and placed his hands in his pockets, “Alright, but don’t blame me if you lose me.”

He swallowed thickly at how weird that statement felt, but he ignored the feeling and followed Oikawa’s lead as they weaved through the crowd of warm bodies, finding their way to the cake shop which would have been a lot faster and easier, if Oikawa didn’t get distracted by every little thing he sees. 

For the most part, Hajime indulged him as he just looked like an overly excited kid in a toy store. But he eventually grew tired of it and snapped at Oikawa to just fucking move along because he was delaying their progress. Oikawa gave him a pout, called him mean, but didn’t make any unnecessary stopovers after that.

The cake shop was unusually situated in Memory Lane, just outside the west gate of Shinjuku station. Commonly known for its moniker, Piss Alley, it is famous for cheap drinks and yakitori—and definitely not for cakes.

He was hit by the strong, warm smell of barbecue smoke and charcoal the moment he stepped in the alley. The narrow street transported him to the old Showa era with the paper lanterns hanging above his head and the food stalls filled with patrons lining the sidewalks making the already confined space even tighter. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Hajime called out to Oikawa who walked ahead but kept looking back to check if he was still following. The guy gave him a wink which didn’t ease his doubts at all, “Yes, I’m sure. I was just here last week.”

But there was no sign of them stopping anywhere, nor this famous cake shop Oikawa was talking about. Growing more tired and more suspicious, Hajime has just had it. 

“There are no cake shops here.” He stated the obvious, voice a little louder so he could be heard amidst the noise around them. Oikawa finally stopped in front of one of the food stalls and turned to him. “Of course there are no cake shops here. Do you even know where we are, Iwa-chan?”

It took a lot of self-control not to smack his head right there, “I know where we are, shithead. If it isn’t here, then what are we even doing in this place?”

“I guess that’s pretty obvious.” Oikawa cocked his head to the side, “I’m hungry so I took you here.”

Oh, if looks could kill. “Are you kidding? There was McDonald’s right in front of where we parked.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes as if he just said the stupidest thing ever. Instead of answering, he grabbed Hajime’s arm and pulled him towards the yakiniku stall, pushing him to sit down on one of the empty plastic stools. 

“What—”

“See? This is the problem with you, Iwa-chan. You have no sense of adventure. Where’s the fun in eating someplace we could go any day?” He slipped on the stool next to his and raised his hand to call the attention of the shop owner. 

“We just went to Tokyo. You’re treating it like we went to a totally new country. This is not an adventure.”

“Well yeah, if you do the same things over and over again.” Oikawa retorted, “You don’t really need to go somewhere new to enjoy new experiences, right?”

Hajime sighed. How could he even win against Oikawa and his twisted sense of logic? “Do you always run your mouth like this?”

Oikawa gave him a wide smile, “Only when I’m with people I like.”

For the third time that day, Hajime was left tongue-tied by what Oikawa just said. He pondered on the direct contrast of their personalities. Hajime would take forever to tell someone or even admit to himself that he likes a person while Oikawa would drop the line in a heartbeat, as if it meant nothing.

It probably didn’t. He hoped it didn’t.

The shop owner, a burly man with dark hair and a resounding laughter served their orders and chatted with them—most specifically with Oikawa.. Hajime just watched in fascination how people were naturally drawn to the guy and it wasn’t just about his good looks, but his overall charm.

“By the way, I never asked you what you were doing in school on a Saturday morning.”

“I was in the gym.”

“You have gym class even on weekends? Wow, you’re hardworking.”

“No. It’s for a practice match.”

Oikawa blinked at that, and Hajime could see the wheels turning in his head as he put two and two together, “Wait, you’re an athlete? So that’s why you’re in great shape!”

Hajime ignored the heat that rose to his cheeks and totally blamed it on the grill where their yakitori was being cooked. 

“What sports do you play?” 

“Volleyball.”

Oikawa fell silent at that and he thought he didn’t hear but when he turned to look, the guy was merely smiling poignantly—a glass of water, frozen against his lips. Hajime didn’t know what to make of that look—it was sad and filled with regret and he didn’t understand where the sentimentality was coming from. But it was gone again, and Oikawa was back looking like nothing happened and maybe he was just seeing things, “What position do you play?”

“Wing spiker.”

“That explains your big guns.”

He choked on his drink, “What the fuck, Shittykawa?!” He didn’t know what was more embarrassing—the fact that Oikawa complimented him easily or the fact that Oikawa was actually checking him out. Maybe a combination of both. 

Oikawa didn’t seem perturbed by it. He simply shrugged and gave Hajime a triumphant smirk, as their food was served.

Hajime frowned when Oikawa pulled up his sleeves before eating. His arms were as pale as his face, but he could see some fresh bruises and scratches that looked painful to touch. When Oikawa noticed him looking, he gave a sheepish smile and pulled down his sleeves again, “I told you I fell down the stairs.”

Well, it did look to be something you would get from an accident—but it still didn’t sit well with him. “You should be more careful.”

It was the most decent thing to say, but because this was Oikawa—he obviously had to bat his lashes at him and purse his lips and generally make things weird. “Aww… are you worried about me, Iwa-chan?”

“On second thought. Just fucking die.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan!”

Apart from that little moment, Hajime had to admit, Oikawa was not such a bad company. Sure he was everything Hajime thought he would be—loud, annoying, and obnoxious… but he was also a lot more than that. When he talks about something he likes, his eyes would blow up and he would become more animated, putting actions to his phrases like a mime. He was also incredibly funny and he could take a crude joke thrown his way with no problem whatsoever.  

The more they talked, the more Hajime realized he hadn’t enjoyed someone’s company for a very long time. Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t hang out with his friends at school—Kuroo and Bokuto made sure he of that, but there was just something different about Oikawa. His presence was calming and aggravating at the same time; soothing but irritating—he was a lot of contradiction and Hajime thought it was refreshing, at the very least.

The shop owner gave them a bottle of sake when they left, proudly saying it’s from his hometown in Kyoto and reminding them to come back soon. He said they reminded him of his son and well, Oikawa was just a pleasant customer to have. A fact that Oikawa smugly rubbed to his face as they made way to their original destination.

It was already late in the evening when they arrived at the quaint cake shop, aptly named Little Nook, surprisingly located a few blocks only from Piss Alley. He would have completely missed it if he were alone and did not have Oikawa to guide him.

The shop was flanked by an apartment complex and a furniture shop. The towering, brand new establishments around, hid it from view and even from where he was standing, it didn’t look like a cake shop. It looked more of a repurposed old shack with a hand-painted sign above the window where there was a display of a number of cakes and pastries accentuated by warm yellow light.

Inside, it was more of a galley than a cafe as the ovens and the displays took too much of the already small space that there were no tables and chairs for the customers to lounge around. It was a grab-and-go kind of place. It also didn’t look that impressive—the hardwood floor was chipping in some spots and the beige wallpaper was peeling in some areas, but it added to the authentic feel of the place. It must have been older than the two of them.

“Ah, Tooru-kun!” A woman with pink hair who looked a bit younger and smaller than the two of them poked her head from the counter. She was carrying a tray of pastries which she had taken out from the display cabinet—probably excess of the day.

“Yahoo, Nami-chan! I came to pick up the cake I ordered.” Oikawa’s words were a little too enthusiastic when he hopped over to greet her.

Hajime figured they knew each other for a long time, especially if Oikawa calls her in her first name. Nami and Oikawa had the same energy and when they talked, Hajime could barely keep up. Finally, Nami regarded him with a curious gaze, “Ah, who’s this Tooru-kun? A new friend? He’s cute.”

Cute. What is it with Oikawa and his friends running their mouths without shame? Hajime hesitated—they weren’t exactly friends as they’ve only known each other for a week, but they also weren’t acquaintance nor strangers.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head eagerly, before he hooked their arms together and responded, “We’re on a date.”

Nami squeaked in surprise, face turning red immediately before Hajime recovered himself and glared at Oikawa. “No, we’re definitely not,” He snapped, unhooking their arms.

“Wow rude, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa gave an exaggerated pout, “And here I thought we’re getting along so well.”

“Wait… so are you two?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Ah, I see… I see…” She looked a bit relieved at that, and did Hajime just see a hint of jealousy in those eyes? Anyway, she offered her hand to him, “I’m Minami Hanamaki. I’m Tooru-kun’s childhood friend.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” He said, introducing himself this time, “We go to the same school.”

“Oh you’re also a film major in Tohoku?”

“Uh, no. Not technically.”

“Nami-chan, stop interrogating my new friend.” Oikawa whined, “We just came to pick up the cake.”

“Ah, right! Right!” She exclaimed letting Hajime’s hand go and nodding over at Oikawa, “You’re lucky you called in advance. You know we only make this in limited quantities.” She left them to head towards one of the fridge at the far-end side of the store. When she came back, she was already carrying a box that was similar to the one Oikawa dropped a few days ago.

Oikawa took the box from her and opened it eagerly. “Wow! It looks so yummy! As expected from you, Nami-chan! You have the best strawberry shortcake ever.” Hajime took a peek of the cake and was pretty impressed. He doesn’t know how to bake a cake, but he does recognize how red the strawberries were and how perfect the piping of the icing was.

“Oh, by the way, Tooru-kun… do you want some of these?” Nami offered the tray of pastries to them. They didn’t look as perfect as they were supposed to, some are crumbling and broken in the corners and some looked a little squished together. They still look good, though.

“Wow! Can I, really?” Oikawa beamed at her and she smiled back, “Yes, of course. But just help me bring those deliveries to the storage room?” She pointed at some boxes on the corner of the shop, which Hajime didn’t notice when they first came in. There were two huge boxes, that she definitely wouldn’t be able to lift without the help of anyone.

“No problem! I have here Iwa-chan who’s a strong and very fit athlete who could definitely help you with the heavy liftings.” Oikawa said patting his arms before taking some pastries from the tray.

“What are you going to do then, Shittykawa?”

“Man the register, obviously.” He said pushing Hajime towards the boxes.

“Thanks a lot. My brother used to help a lot around here but he’s busy with school these days.” Nami said as Hajime picked up two boxes at the same time. He heard Oikawa swoon somewhere behind him but he ignored it and followed Nami instead to the storage room at the back.

“When Tooru-kun lived in the apartment upstairs, he used to come to help me, too.” Nami continued, revealing another interesting fact about Oikawa which he didn’t know of. “He lived in Tokyo before?”

That made sense then, that Oikawa knew these shortcuts and that he and Nami were childhood friends. He was just curious why the guy never mentioned it to him. 

“Yeah, right beside our apartment. He lived with his mother.” Nami responded, “We basically grew up together—he and my older brother. We got close because my brother would always bully me whenever our parents are not around and I’d always hide in their apartment to wait for them to come home.” Nami chuckled as if remembering some fond memories she didn’t want to share. 

When he turned to look at the girl, she was already looking at him, but it didn’t seem that she was seeing him at all. Her eyes were distant and despondent, “He’s a good guy, you know? And he’s been through a lot—he deserves happiness more than anyone I know.” 

There was a longing in the way she said that—and Hajime wondered if Nami secretly is in love with the guy. It’s not a long shot to think of that, considering how Oikawa is. The question is Oikawa knows.

When they got out, Oikawa was still by the cashier, munching on some cookies. He gave Hajime a thumbs up and in retaliation, Hajime clonked him in the head. 

“Aw, so brutal, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa yelped, rubbing at the offended spot in his head, “You see how brutal he is, Nami-chan? I only let him do it to me because he’s kindda hot.”

Nami laughed at that, “You two would make a really good pair.” Hajime highly doubts that she meant that. They helped her close up the shop before they walk back to where they parked the car. Oikawa was quiet all throughout the walk back and even when they started driving back.

Hajime didn’t understand where this sudden mood change came from but the silence in the car was killing him which was weird, considering he did love driving in the car and just this afternoon, hated Oikawa’s random small talks.

“You should put on some music.” He suggested.

Oikawa wasn’t even looking at him—his head was turned to the side, looking out the window into the busy streets of Tokyo. It felt weird because it seemed like the guy beside him was a whole new person compared to the one he came with. There was no hint of energy radiating from him.

“We could listen to one of your audiobooks.” He whispered listlessly.

“You just made fun of that this morning.”

Silence, again. Hajime was getting irritated at it but if Oikawa wanted to ignore him, he wouldn’t make the fucking effort. Screw him and this terrible mood swing.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said softly.

“What?”

“Can we still be friends after this?”

And Hajime sort of understood what was going on in that head of his. It was still funny because he never really thought that after this, they would stop texting or calling each other. It had only been a week, but the thought of not having to hear from the guy for a day didn’t sit well with Hajime.

He sighed and slugged Oikawa on the head, “Of course, you idiot.”

---

For the next days, he and Oikawa had been constantly messaging each other—sending greetings, updates, and even selfies (that one time, in his case compared to Oikawa who has an endless supply of his face). Sometimes, they would even call each other, usually at night—before one has to go to sleep and one would end up falling asleep while the other is talking (him usually because Oikawa is really just a chatterbox).

It wasn’t completely surprising that Oikawa would be like this as he had always been—what surprised Hajime more was not just his tolerance for the guy’s antics, but that he had been responding as well. Eagerly, at that.

Even his teammates seemed to notice this, but it was their middle blocker, Kuroo Tetsurou who pointed it out after their Friday practice. The guy probably had been curious all this time because he deliberately and literally cornered Hajime in the lockers while they were getting ready to leave.

“You seem to be in a good mood recently.” Kuroo pried curious eye following the way Hajime’s hands pocketed his phone after the latter checked a message from Oikawa telling him he’d call tonight. Another teammate of theirs, and their wing spiker, Bokuto heard and sauntered to where the two of them were huddled together, “Something good happened?”

“Nothing in particular, really.” He replied but when Kuroo raised a brow and gave Bokuto a side-glance, he just knew they wouldn’t just let this pass. They’d keep pestering him until he fessed up—which wouldn’t have been that bad, except Kuroo is in all his classes. Sometimes, Hajime wished he had a different set of friends. He sighed in defeat, “Fine. I just met someone.”

The way their faces lit up made him instantly regret what he just said. Immediately, Bokuto flopped beside him, putting an arm across his shoulder, “You didn’t tell us you made a new friend!”

“Friend? Pfft!! With how often he had his nose in his phone, I dare say it’s someone a little more than a friend.” Kuroo chortled, shaking his head, “Our dear Iwa is getting laid and I couldn’t be more proud.” He wiped phantom tears from his eyes. 

Hajime has had enough and kicked his shin, “Shut up asshole. I’m not dating anyone. As if I’d have the time for that.” He shrugged off Bokuto’s arm as he stood and pushed Kuroo who was rubbing his shin, aside, “I’m just sort of helping him out.”

The two guys shared a scandalized look before Kuroo placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it tightly, “I didn’t know you’d be into that kind of thing, but hey, we’re not here to judge.”

He frowned, unsure of what he meant.

“You know, we get it. You’ve been single for so long and your…” Kuroo’s eyes surveyed him, hands gesturing at his body, “I guess you do need some form of release.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” He shoved the guy off.

“He meant we won’t judge if you got yourself a fuck buddy.” Bokuto offered, unhelpfully.

“Wha—” Hajime swore he just saw black, he glowered at their leering faces, already deciding who to punch first—okay, sure they were a couple of inches taller than him but he was the bulkiest and he could still definitely take them on. 

“Wait… so it wasn’t that?” It was Kuroo who picked on his murderous expression quickly, “So it was really something serious?”

“Wait, so it was really a girlfriend?” Bokuto piped in, “Or a boyfriend… I mean, we all think you could go either way as the rest of the people in the team are… well except for Wakatoshi because that guy’s just as straight as a stick.”

“Bo, that’s not the point.” Kuroo interrupted, “Also, you’re totally wrong because Waka has a long-distance boyfriend studying overseas.”

“What? He does?”

“Yes, a guy called Tendou or something…but that’s not the point. Let’s go back to the topic at hand.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Hajime sighed, getting tired at trying to explain something he didn’t even have to, “I just met a guy, okay? It’s not a relationship and we’re definitely not fucking.”

“But do you want to?”

“Bokuto, I swear I’m gonna punch you.”

“Chill, Iwa. We just wanted to know, okay?” Kuroo smacked Bokuto’s head as if to prove his point, “We were just really curious why you were smiling googly-eyed in your phone for the past couple of days. It’s just really out of your character and doesn’t help your reputation.”

“What reputation are you talking about?”

“You know, the bitter, sullen, sometimes scary, hot-headed hottie of the volleyball team.” Kuroo stated, “Continue going that path and I might do something to rile Wakatoshi to get him mad. Maybe flirt with his boyfriend or something.”

“Vandalize his car?”

“You could get expelled for that, idiot.”

He shook his head in surrender before he opened his locker to grab his things. He wanted to get away from the two idiots as fast as possible but he did wonder if it was true—not the reputation but how he had been acting. Was it really that obvious?

He has to admit that he had been feeling lighter these past few days—probably the best for the longest time and it was only because of a certain person who he considered troublesome, though he isn’t exactly sure why.

“So, what’s his name?”

“Oikawa Tooru.” Oikawa’s name slipped from his lips unintentionally before he realized what he just said.

Kuroo cocked his head to the side, “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Hajime sighed, “You’ve probably seen him in some school productions. He’s a film major.”

“Film major? Like my boyfriend, Akaashi?”

Oh yeah. He almost forgot about that. Bokuto started going out with his high school friend and long-time crush, Akaashi Keiji who is also studying film. He probably knew Oikawa. “Yeah, like your boyfriend. But I guess Oikawa’s his senpai? Isn’t Akaashi younger than us by a year?”

“Yeah. Want me to ask him?”

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“Not talking to you. I’m asking Kuroo.”

“Why the fuck would he want that?”

“Don’t know. Curious? Is he as pretty as Akaashi, though?”

Even better. Wow, that answer didn’t just pass his thoughts because there was no way he would think Oikawa is pretty. Okay, maybe that one time in Tokyo—under the heavy lights of the city, with the blurry, hazy colors dancing around him.

Hajime thought the guy looked magical.

Maybe, that one time. But just that one time.

---

Shittykawa:

[image sent]

I’m gonna watch Pacific Rim tonight!

Since you kept insisting how good this is.

Iwa-chan:

It’s not so good but it’s decent. Nothing beats the good old classic, Godzilla.

Also, why do you have another patch on your forehead?

Did you fall again?

Shittykawa:

Ack! The effects of that film are terrible.

And aww… Are you concerned, Iwa-chan? I’m touched.

Iwa-chan:

I’m not. I just can’t believe you are that clumsy. 

Isn’t that like the third time you told me you fell this week?

Not counting the previous weeks when you also got into an accident.

Shittykawa:

Yeah, it can’t be helped, Iwa-chan. 

I’m so awesome, I sometimes trip over my own awesomeness.

Iwa-chan:

Hope you choke to death on it, too.

Shittykawa:

‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Mean, Iwa-chan!

By the way

Are you busy tomorrow?

Iwa-chan:

Morning practice

Shittykawa:

I meant after that, silly

Iwa-chan:

Hmn, I guess I’m pretty free after that

Why?

Shittykawa:

Are you really this dense?

I mean I know you have a high forehead

But not a thick head

Iwa-chan:

I also have a pretty good punch

Shittykawa:

I have no doubt

With your arms

Seriously, do you do extra workout to have those guns?

Iwa-chan:

…

Shittykawa:

Anyway, I’m asking because I want to hang out

After your practice, that is.

Iwa-chan:

Why?

Shittykawa:

Well, I have two tickets for this movie I’ve been wanting to watch 

And I thought since you don’t have anything exciting going on anyway

You would like to go out with me?

Iwa-chan:

Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

Considering you asked me to go to the movies with you.

Shittykawa:

Why not?

I like hanging out with you.

Besides, you have a car so it’s easier to go there

Iwa-chan:

You sure do know what to say

Shittykawa:

Come on, Iwa-chan.

It’ll be fun.

Iwa-chan:

That’s still debatable.

Shittykawa:

We both know I’m good company

Iwa-chan:

Fine.

Shittykawa:

Fine I’m good company or fine you’ll go?

Iwa-chan:

What time do we meet?

The thing with hanging out with Oikawa is… no matter how much they try to plan what they would be doing for the day, things ultimately wouldn’t go according to plan. Of course, it would always be Oikawa’s doing as the guy usually inserts these little side trips in their carefully plotted travels.

Hajime would have no patience for these, typically. But Oikawa would call him such a sourpuss and tell him that these side quests are part of the overall adventure. Hajime would scoff and tell him he’s watching too much TV.

And yet, he would still allow Oikawa to drag him to whatever stupid idea he had in his mind. That day, the two of them went to see a movie which Oikawa had been ‘dying to see’ but not before they made a side trip to the pet store because Oikawa wanted to see some fish for the next episode of his web series. Of course, after the movie, Oikawa also dragged him to his favorite music-themed café which he didn’t even know existed in Miyagi.

It’s because you’re a prude. You need a little adventure in your life.

Hajime doesn’t know how a single trip to a jazz bar-inspired coffee shop had anything to do with being on an adventure. But Oikawa seemed to think that way—living adventure to adventure, always striving for a new experience, new things to try. Initially, Hajime finds it exhausting trying to find new things to do every Saturday they were together. But the more time they spent together, the more he began looking forward to their next adventure.

He also began to learn more about the guy—but not just the basic things one would know a friend, but the quirks and the unusual contradictions of his personality.

For one, Oikawa despite being overbearing is an overall nice guy—but he also has terrible mood swings that would come out of nowhere. He could be fun and happy one minute and sad and reclusive by the next. How many arguments did they have just because of Oikawa would lash out at him for basically nothing? And how many times did Oikawa apologize right after? This would have been exhausting, but Hajime usually brushed it off and just called him out for his shitty personality.

Sometimes, Oikawa would also disappear on him, too. Usually this is when he’d have some things to do in the hospital for his mother. Oikawa never talks about his mother and Hajime never asks. During those days, he would hear from the guy less and then one day, he’d just simply pop out like nothing happened and that he never sort of disappeared. Hajime thinks it’s just because he’s incredibly busy.

Shittykawa:

[image sent]

This is so cool

It was a Friday night and Hajime just got home after a grueling practice match with Sendai University. He dove instantly to bed, and closed his eyes when he got home—cursing himself that he forewent the shower in the gym so he had to drag himself to the bathroom before he could sleep. But he was about to doze off when he received a message from Oikawa which is basically a photo of a galaxy of stars. He has a bad feeling about it.

Iwa-chan:

Where are you getting at with this?

Shittykawa:

Nothing. I’m just sharing a photo of the milky way.

Iwa-chan:

Right. I forgot you’re a total space nerd.

Shittykawa:

Just appreciate the beauty!

Especially because we will be seeing some of them next weekend!

Iwa-chan:

Huh?

Didn’t you tell me you have to be somewhere?

Shittykawa:

Yeah! 

But this is for a once in a lifetime opportunity!

Do you want to come with me or not?

Hajime didn’t understand what he meant, for all he knows… Oikawa was just being overly dramatic. He contemplated if he should turn him down. It had been two months since he and Oikawa started hanging out—and during those times, he had dealt with Oikawa’s crazy antics and unexpected habits so many times now and Hajime began to question why on earth is he still letting him get away with any of these—even going as far as looking forward to them.

He remembered what Kuroo and Bokuto were blabbing about, and thought that maybe they were right. Maybe, he has gone soft.

Oikawa’s to blame. Fucking Oikawa with his brown eyes, his perfect hair, and brilliant smile. And that annoying personality to match with. Oikawa had always been a troublesome guy from the very beginning—and yet here he was, still doing his bidding. 

Iwa-chan:

Okay.

---

That week went by fast—in between surviving his course, Hajime also had to deal with club activities and just a few days ago, he also had given up on the idea of spending his Saturday alone at home doing absolutely nothing. Oikawa came into his world and ruined his perfectly peaceful weekends. Sure, they were boring and lonely...but he was used to it.

Who knew that he would spend his Saturday night in Sendai Astronomical Observatory, a place he hasn’t gone to since he was in a field trip back in middle school? But there he was, going through different space exhibits and reading different facts about celestial things he didn’t have any interest in, to begin with.

But Oikawa was with him and his energy and enthusiasm were contagious and he found himself enjoying the trip as well. Oikawa dragged him exhibit after exhibit with giant displays of planets orbiting the sun, plus detailed explanations of how the universe was created and an exhibit that featured artifacts showing old stargazing equipment which Hajime found really interesting. 

All these Hajime learned through watching the supplemental shows and reading the descriptions per display—and then relearn them as Oikawa repeated them over and over to him. He was too excited for his own good—especially when they reached the planetarium.

The observatory is the biggest planetarium in Japan and it boasts of a huge dome chamber which could hold more than a hundred people comfortably. There, you could get lost in the serene music, sitting on one of the plush chairs and just staring at the ceiling, under constellations you would be able to see on global point of view if there were perfect weather conditions and complete darkness. 

Hajime particularly liked this part of the trip—partly because Oikawa had stayed completely quiet, mesmerized by the stars as well… and also because when he glanced up at Oikawa, his pupils were so wide that he could see the stars reflected in those dark, brown eyes and it was just...beautiful.

“What?” Oikawa asked with a soft grin and Hajime realized he had been staring.

You’re beautiful. His mind supplied, but his tongue felt so heavy and thick in his mouth, he simply shook his head, hating himself. He would like to tell himself he didn’t mean that, but maybe, Oikawa’s sentimentality was rubbing in on him as he found the place so beautiful and romantic, it would have been a perfect excuse to say that.

Oikawa chuckled, standing up as he grabbed Hajime by the arm and up his feet. He was so excited he almost lost balance if not for Hajime who pulled him back to him, “Careful, Shittykawa. You know how clumsy you are.”

Which is true, the guy has some fresh scratches on his palms and arms from when he said he tripped and fell while jogging. That was the only reason why he pulled Oikawa to him… except that action inadvertently closed the space between them.

Oikawa blinked at him and that’s when he noticed that he had pulled him to his chest and placed a hand across his back. Shit. He almost shoved him away, if Oikawa hadn’t pulled away himself first, “Sorry. Let’s hurry or we’ll miss it.”

What exactly is it? He wanted to ask but Oikawa had already dragged him out the planetarium and up the stairs to the gift shop and up some more on the third floor where a huge, intimidating modern telescope stood in the middle of the floor. It didn’t look like the typical telescope one would imagine—this one looked more like something you would see in a television set, with its digital controls and boxy parts. The only giveaway was the scaled-up scope held up in the middle of the setup.

“The Hitomi telescope!” Oikawa proudly announced and Hajime cowered in embarrassment as the people on the same floor turned to look at them. Hajime supposed something was going on, considering the number of people present and also because Oikawa had to pay an additional fee.

They lined up to wait for their turn on the telescope and when it was theirs, Oikawa pushed him forward so he could go first. Hajime didn’t really know what to expect as he never really was interested nor thought about stars or celestial bodies floating in space until today. But when he took just a peek, it was like a whole new world was opened up to him.

There were thousands—no, millions of dots in different colors littering the pitch-black sky, some bigger than the others. He wished he knew the constellations because he wanted to make sense of the patterns he was seeing, but his ignorance didn’t make them any less beautiful anyway. More than that, what mesmerized him were the planets… knowing that there were planets in the sky is one thing, but seeing them, even not in their original size made Hajime feel so small, so irrelevant.

Oikawa was saying something beside him… he was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice and only when Oikawa tugged on his shoulder and told him that they would adjust the telescope a little to the left so that he could see it, does he hear him

“See what?” He asked because what else is there to see that would be more fascinating than what he had already seen. But Oikawa just grinned at him and urged him to look again.

The first thing he saw was something akin to a star—only it’s longer and has a fine dust tail. It’s streaking the night sky with its yellowish light, like cutting through the darkness in a near steady line. It didn’t look like it was moving all, but he knew it was just a trick of his eyes. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Oikawa whispered again and when he looked at the guy, he saw the stars back in his eyes and could hear the question he posed before when they were in Tokyo.

You don’t need to go somewhere new to make new experiences, right?

Now he knew he was right. Sometimes, all you need is to be with the right person at the right moment.

---

It was already around eleven in the evening when they finished with the trip and the only remaining establishment open was a nearby convenience store that sold meat buns and instant ramen which the shopkeeper was kind enough to cook for them. They brought back their food to the car to eat.

He turned on the car’s heater and Oikawa turned on some songs, this time from The Shins—its title very apt to what they just experienced.

“Is that why you wanted to come here today?” Hajime asked in between mouthfuls of ramen, “What’s it called again? The lady in the observatory told us but I wasn’t really listening.”

“It’s Comet NEOWISE.” Oikawa explained, taking the packet of the milk bread he also bought, “It was just discovered this year but it comes around every six thousand years and for the past months it had been moving away from the sun which is why you need a telescope now to see it.”

“Do you mean you could see it before without the telescope?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Howcome I never saw it before?”

Oikawa shrugged, “Well, were you even looking?”

Touché. He hummed in response, slurping more noodles noticing Oikawa’s hands quivering as he struggled to tear open his milk bread. He ignored it for a bit, thinking the packaging was just tough as they sometimes are, but when Oikawa grew more and more frustrated, Hajime took the pack and opened it for him. 

Oikawa’s face was unreadable when he handed it back to him. His eyes were downcast and he was biting his lips as his hand slowly stopped from shaking. “Are you still cold?” Hajime asked even though it didn’t make sense because when their hands briefly touched, Oikawa’s hand was warm. But the guy nodded so he turned up the heat a little higher.

🎶 We can blow on our thumbs and posture

But the lonely are such delicate things

The wind from a wasp could blow them

Into the sea

With stones on their feet

Lost to the light and the loving we need

“I wish I could see it again.” Oikawa spoke, but it felt like he wasn’t speaking to Hajime. The longing in his voice felt wrong.

“Baka, you just said it won’t come around in six thousand more years.” Hajime snickered, “By then, we’re not even sure if the earth still exists.”

“You are so morbid,” Oikawa pouted, “Who knows? Humanity might move on to different planets and actually thrive there.”

“Even if they did, we won’t be there to witness it anymore. We’d be long dead by then.”

A short pause. Hajime can’t help but feel he touched a nerve. Does he really feel disappointed that he won’t have the opportunity to live on another planet? I guess, if you’re a space nerd, you would.

“Do you think…there’s still something for us… after we die?”

“You mean like our bodies rotting?”

“Even after that.” He said then rolled his eyes, “Also, gross.”

“Are you talking about life after death? Reincarnation?”

“I just think it’s romantic, that’s all. The idea of living again in a different body. Being able to start over again and just reset your life.”

“For someone who just dragged me into an observatory filled with scientific stuff and kept spouting science shit all night, you definitely don't seem like the type to believe in that.” Hajime snickered. 

Oikawa didn’t respond after that. But he did give Hajime a soft smile which he felt he didn’t deserve because it was hauntingly beautiful.

What is he even doing? Hajime thought as his heart skipped a beat just at that.

What are they even doing here? Going on Saturday dates? Dates—this and the other times… those were dates, right? And definitely not a friendly one because he would never, for the life of him, drag Kuroo nor Bokuto in these places.

What are we, really? 

The song ended as the question burned at the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure what to ask him and the lull inside the car made it harder to speak. A new song played in his car’s radio.

🎶 When I talk it doesn't mean you have to listen 

Sometimes everything I say just comes out wrong...

“Neh, Iwa-chan. Let’s play a game.”

“Hmn?”

“Two truths and one lie.”

“Huh? What are we? Twelve?”

“Come on! Don’t be such a prude.” Oikawa grinned, “So are you game?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Fair point. Okay, here it goes. One, I actually already saw the comet prior to tonight but I just wanted to go again this time with you because; two, I really like you… and I mean like not as a friend,” he paused as if he’s trying to read Hajime’s reaction, “and three, I feel like you kind of like me, too.”

Hajime wasn’t stupid—Oikawa obviously gave those statements because he knew what Hajime would choose. He looked like he was already gearing for rejection. 

Hajime also knew what he should have chosen. It was the easiest, safest choice. Oikawa was troublesome as it is, getting more involved with him would surely bring more headaches. Besides, Hajime should want nothing more but to get those peaceful, lonely Saturdays back in his life.

Except he didn’t want those anymore. “One.”

“Hmn?” Oikawa blinked at him, confused and surprised at his choice.

But instead of explaining, he reached for Oikawa and pulled him in for a kiss.

🎶 Well this time I'm not blind 

And it's time you knew it 

I'm not scared to love you.

---

Oikawa:

Look what I have here!

[image sent]

Iwa-chan:

Is that what I think it is?

Oikawa:

Yup! It’s a DVD of the original Godzilla film

Turns out, guy living across the hall has the same awful taste in movies as you

Iwa-chan:

Big words from someone who watched E.T. fifteen times and cries every single time

Oikawa:

E.T. is a masterpiece!

Even you admitted that!

Iwa-chan:

Yeah… but fifteen times?

Oikawa:

Do you want to watch this or not?

Iwa-chan:

I already watched it.

What are you saying?

Oikawa:

Are you seriously this dense?

I’m asking if you want to watch it with me or not,

Iwa-chan:

Oh…

Mm… Yeah sure

You want to watch it later?

Oikawa:

Obviously, duh?

Iwa-chan:

My last class will end at five

Pick you up by then?

Oikawa: 

Sure. See you, Iwa-chan!

Honestly, when he kissed Oikawa, it was because he felt right doing it. He wasn’t really sure what that would mean for the two of them and they hadn’t really talked about this development in their relationship. But they had been going out together more often now—at least during days when Oikawa didn't have to go to the hospital for his mother.

Most of the time, they stay at Oikawa’s dorm since it’s inside the campus and it’s easier to go there. They had never gone to his place before and this would be the first time. 

He really didn’t have to worry much about it since his father rarely comes home anyway, but he found himself still feeling a little nervous because it’s the first time he and Oikawa would be really alone (those times in the dorm didn’t count because there would always be someone barging in either to chat with Oikawa or to borrow something.)

Of course, when he went to pick Oikawa up, the other guy, perceptive as ever, noticed this and teased him about it, “Iwa-chan… what the hell are you even thinking?”

“Shut up, Shittykawa.” He snapped, even when his face was flushed red. He noticed his father’s car when he pulled up their home and blamed his bad luck for this. Okay, it didn’t mean he really planned to do something… it’s just that, he didn’t want to deal with his father right now.

Especially not with Oikawa.

But his father met them by the door, immediately sizing up the guy behind him. “Otousan.” Hajime greeted and the man nodded at him, “You didn’t tell me you’d come home today.”

“I had to get some clothes.” He replied, “I’ll be going to Tokyo tomorrow for the conference.”

As if Hajime knew it along. “Ah, have a safe trip then.” His father was still eyeing Oikawa obviously waiting for him to introduce them. “By the way, this is Oikawa Tooru. Oikawa, my father Akihito Iwaizumi. He’s the chief physician in Tohoku.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened probably in surprise before he held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-san.” He was chirpier than usual and it was almost funny how his father was taken aback by the unusual perkiness of Oikawa. Like he literally had to flinch away from him before he remembered himself and accepted the handshake. 

“I’ll—I’ll be leaving in an hour, you boys make yourself comfortable,” He couldn’t believe what was happening. He had never seen his usually composed father become this flustered, “Hajime, just order some takeout for dinner.”

“Ah, right. I will.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san!” Oikawa chimed in before Hajime had had enough of the fake tone and almost dragged Oikawa up to his room, leaving his father downstairs to do god knows what.

“Just sit anywhere,” He said, dropping his bag on his study table. His room isn’t that big but at least it’s a lot neater than its original state this morning. Oikawa, instead of sitting though, the guy decided to roam around his room and check on whatever piqued his interest.

Oikawa pointed at the single poster in the room, “Really? Godzilla poster?”

“Shut up.” Hajime rolled his eyes and moved to set up the television and the DVD player.

Oikawa grinned and at him and moved along, “Your dad’s seems nice.”

He scoffed, “Please, anything but that.”

“What? Why?” He sounded totally curious. Hajime wondered if he should tell him—but he didn’t want to ruin his afternoon. Oikawa didn’t like that, “Is there any reason why you can’t tell me?”

Hajime nodded, “It’s a pretty fine afternoon and I want it to stay that way.”

Oikawa hummed, curiously but didn’t push it, “Hmn, is your mother as nice as him?”

“Nicer.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Oikawa beamed.

He didn’t know if he wanted to breach that topic because like he said, he didn’t want to ruin the afternoon. But it felt wrong not to tell him, at least what had happened to her. “You’d probably like her and she’d probably like you. I guess it’s too bad you guys won’t meet.”

“Am I allowed to ask why?”

“She died more than three years ago from cancer.” The words still felt bitter in his tongue but at least he managed to say it. Oikawa was left speechless, looking shocked and then embarrassed, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Hajime shrugged, “It was a long time ago, anyway.” He finished setting up the movie and went to sit on the bed.

Oikawa nodded, “Is that related to why you and your father don’t get along?”

“Sort of.” He responded patting the space beside him, “Let’s just… not talk about him today, please? I really don’t want to ruin the first memory of your visit”

Oikawa was silent for a while before he sighed, “Fiiiiiine.” He slumped beside him and arranged his long legs so they could sit comfortably in the small bed. Then as if he remembered something, “Oh, by the way, Iwa-chan.”

“Hmn?” Hajime faced him only to be caught off-guard when warm, soft lips pressed against his own in a quick kiss. It was gone before he could react to it, but the sensation lingered as his face burned with shame.

“Heh… cute.” Oikawa mused as he pulled away. He had this smug look that Hajime wanted to wipe away so he grabbed him by the face and kissed him properly, this time. Oikawa was too stunned to respond but after a few seconds, he began responding with the same eagerness.

It was beautiful the way Oikawa opened up to him—soft, warm, inviting. When he pressed his tongue inside his mouth, the overpowering taste of chocolate and mint made him heady. He was never fond of the flavor but mixed with Oikawa, and he instantly became a fan.

Hajime had girlfriends back when he was still in high school and he had some casual flings in college… making out wasn’t anything new to him, but none of them felt this good. He mused if it was because he really liked guys or it’s only because it’s Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa gasped when he unconsciously pushed the brunette down the bed and Hajime snapped back in reality. Shit. He instantly withdrew, leaving Oikawa stupefied and breathless on the bed, looking confused. “Sorry. I got carried away.” He muttered.

A leer formed in Oikawa’s lips, pushing himself up and then wrapping his arms around Hajime which didn’t help the erratic beating of the latter’s heart and the jungle thundering in his stomach. “It’s okay, Iwa-chan. You did nothing I didn’t like.” And then he pecked his cheek, “We can do it again if you like.”

Hajime considered it—really considered it because he knew that if they continued, he wouldn’t be able to stop and he wasn’t sure if that’s a bridge he wanted to cross now. But damn, it took a lot of self-control to tell the guy clinging to him that it wasn’t a good idea. Oikawa pouted, “Such a prude.”

Hajime shook his head in exasperation but ignored the sleight, “Are we going to watch it or not?”

The distraction proved useful as Oikawa perked up at the suggestion and grabbed the remote control Hajime offered. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to seeing this but knowing you liked this so much, I can’t help but get curious.”

He fought the urge to reach out and pull Oikawa closer to him. The more time he spent with the guy, the more he realized he was so clingy and he didn’t want to scare off the guy. But it seems that Oikawa has read into his mind and took the initiative. He moved so he could sit in between Hajime’s legs, wrapping the latter’s arms around his waist to be the small spoon.

“Oi, how am I supposed to see?” Hajime complained but even to his ears, the words lacked the usual bite to make it seem believable. “I guess you just have to deal, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa snickered before he reached over to press play.

That night, Oikawa told him, how his feelings didn’t change for him.

I still think your taste in movies is shit, Iwa-chan. But that doesn’t make me like you less.

---

Iwa-chan:

What are you doing tomorrow?

Oikawa:

Wow, this is new

You’re the one asking me out

Iwa-chan:

I’m not asking you out

Yet

Oikawa:

You are so cute, Iwa-chan.

But you should really rethink this tsundere type of thing going on

People don’t usually like that.

Iwa-chan:

Shut up

Also, you still like me

Oikawa:

That’s my life’s greatest tragedy

Iwa-chan:

But seriously, what are you doing tomorrow?

We haven’t seen each other for like two weeks…

Are you still stuck in the hospital?

Oikawa:

Unfortunately yes

I’m sorry

I know you miss me but…

Iwa-chan:

Wow, who told you I miss you?

Oikawa:

My heart

See, we’re already connected

Iwa-chan:

I’m just wondering when your annoying ass would come back

Oikawa:

I see

Well, my annoying ass won’t be back until next week

Iwa-chan:

Okay, I’ll see you then.

Oikawa:

Sure.

Also, even if you won’t admit it, I’ll say it still

I miss you, Iwa-chan.

Hajime never pried whenever Oikawa mentions anything about going to the hospital. Sure, they’ve known each other for a few months now, but they’ve only started dating for only a month or so. And he just knew they’re not yet ready to talk about that part of Oikawa’s life. Hajime didn’t mind. He trusted Oikawa’s pace and he just knew that he would tell him whenever he’s ready.

So that Saturday, Hajime spent the day with his friends because they kept telling him that ever since he got himself a boyfriend, he rarely spends time with them. Which is why the two eagerly accepted the invitation. Luckily, his father has not gone home for two days now so they had the entire house for themselves.

Kuroo arrived first, bringing along some snacks to last them a month. Interestingly, he looked a little disappointed when he saw him alone, which was weird considering how excited he sounded on the phone. Bokuto came two hours after, apologizing that he couldn’t come earlier because he had to drive Akaashi somewhere.

They all stayed in Hajime’s room where all his consoles and games were. They just were on their fifth winning streak in PUBG against some players from Colombia when Kuroo dropped the question that was probably hanging in his head for the entire afternoon, “So… is he coming or not?”

“Who’s coming?” He asked, without even looking at Kuroo. He was so focused on sniping one of the enemies hiding by the bushes and trees. He thinks there are two of them, but he couldn’t be so sure and didn’t want to give away his position to the snipers at the back.

“Your boy. Oikawa, was it?”

“To be honest, I also thought he’s here with you,” Bokuto admitted, “I mean aren’t you two already going out?”

“What made you think I’d let you guys around with him?”

Kuroo raised a brow, “I didn’t peg you for the jealous type.”

“Not jealous. Just didn’t want you to make a fool of yourselves.”

“Still sounds jealous to me.”

Bokuto snickered, “Though now that I think about it, it wouldn’t make sense for you to invite us if ever he is actually he—oh shit! Iwa they got me!”

“What the hell are you even doing there, you fool?”

“I was on my way to the care package!”

“Of the enemy?! Our supply drop’s on the left, stupid.”

“Hold on you guys, I’m coming to get ya out!”

“No, stupid! We’re surrounded.”

“Go save yourself, Kuroo.”

“We took down at least two of them.”

“Win the match for us! Avenge our deaths!”

“Shut up, Bokuto! You were the reason we got killed.”

“Oh shit, they also got me! Fuck!”

“Nooooo!!”

“Yeah! They got me. Oh shit, shit…”

“There goes our winning streak.” Hajime sighed, dropping the controller on the floor. They had been playing the entire afternoon and now he realized that it’s already eight. The snacks they ate ruined their appetites so nobody brought up the idea of dinner. “I need to smoke.”

“Yeah, me too.” Kuroo agreed, standing up to follow Hajime out of the room. They went out to the garden, or what used to be a garden. It was his mother’s used to be beautiful and well-kept but ever since she died, nobody took charge of it. Now, it only looked dry and depressing.

She would be terribly disappointed if she learned that Hajime had picked up smoking in her absence. Truth be told, despite doing it occasionally for almost a year now, just to cool his head, most of the time—he never really got the hang of it. 

Unlike Kuroo, who somehow made the entire act attractive, breathing in and exhaling the smoke as if he’s a freaking dragon, Hajime would still cough and sputter at times when he’s smoking. It wasn't cool at all, but when would inhaling burning smoke to your lungs ever be?

“Oh, by the way… I finally remembered where I heard him before.” Kuroo said, taking a drag on his cigar. 

“Who?”

“Oikawa Tooru.” He replied, “I remembered—or more correctly, Wakatoshi did.”

“Huh?” Hajime didn’t know what to make of it. He knew their ace player didn’t have a variety of hobbies so it’s quite surprising for him to know someone outside of volleyball, unless…

“He was a setter when we were in middle school. Very promising, Wakatoshi told me, which is saying a lot considering it came from him. But he disappeared in high school and nobody from the volleyball community heard of him again.”

Wait… what?! It was like a rug was pulled from under his feet. Suddenly, it made sense why he gave that sentimental look when he mentioned what sport he plays. He was a volleyball player, too… and a good one at that, if he received that compliment from their ace player. Considering all these, why didn’t Oikawa tell him?

From his reaction, Kuroo deduced that he didn’t know, “Wait, he never told you?”

He shook his head, “No, I mean I never asked but…” He could have told me, then. Aren’t we like, dating?

Kuroo shrugged, taking another puff from his cigar and blowing it through his nose. Hajime watched the stream of smoke rise and disappear into thin air. I wonder if it got something do with his mother’s sickness.

“Oh? Is that it?” Kuroo asked. He didn’t even realize he was thinking out loud, “Well, his mother is. That’s how I met him. He was visiting his mother.” He took a drag of his cigarette. It burned and he coughed out the smoke, ungracefully. 

Kuroo snickered, before doing the same… except, smoothly. That smug jerk. “By the way, that’s not what the rumors said.”

“Rumors? About what?”

“Oikawa. They said he disappeared because he was sick,” Kuroo sighed, “But I guess there’s no truth to that because it was his mother who was sick. So that’s good.”

A rumor on Oikawa being sick? Hajime fell into silence as he pondered over it. Of course, it was impossible. Oikawa looked as healthy as a person could be. There was just no way he was suffering from any disease. Besides, he was there to visit his mother—that’s it. He wasn’t sick or anything.

He was convinced that the rumor was just a rumor, but the memory of that last night together came on him—the way his hands spasmed out of control and he wondered…No. 

But there was a tightness that built up in his throat which had nothing to do with the cigarette already burning his fingers. He was about to ask Kuroo some more questions, when his phone rang. It was Oikawa.

Trying to hide his excitement because, for the past few days, Oikawa hasn’t been calling him as frequently as he used to, he put out his cigarette and threw it into the nearby trashcan before excusing himself from Kuroo who waved him off.

“What do you want, Shi—”

“Iwa-chan…” 

There was something wrong with his voice. It was feeble and shaky with none of the chirpiness it usually has. The burning in his throat got worse and it wasn’t because of the cigarette. He didn’t like the sound of that voice on the other line.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you…” A feeble sob, “Can you pick me up?”

“Pick you up? What do you mean pick you up? What’s happening? Where are you now?” He didn’t want to sound frantic, but he apparently did because Kuroo who was about to go back inside the house, came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking worried.

“I’m at the… here…” Another sob, “I’m in the parking lot of the hospital… just… please?” Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to sound like that. It all felt so wrong and his heart was aching just at his voice sounding too distressed.

He didn’t know what came over him. The fact that Oikawa was in the hospital should have been a huge deterrent for him—but Oikawa called him. Nothing else matters anymore because the man on the other end of the line sounded so broken it hurt, “Okay. Wait for me.”

---

The hospital parking lot was even gloomier at night than in the morning with only half the spots occupied and half the streetlamps lit. He doesn’t believe in ghosts or anything paranormal, but he couldn’t help the goosebumps that crawled down his skin when he went out from the comfortable warmth of his car and into the cold night.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust in the darkness, but even being half-blind, he was already scanning the area, looking for a particular silhouette to appear. His phone stupidly died on his way here and he forgot to bring the cord to charge it with so he had no way of knowing where Oikawa was.

With his heart in his throat, he began surveying the parking lot, checking every car and bench he came across with. He stopped himself from yelling out his name as to not attract security…which on second thought.

He was about to yell out his name when he heard a very distinct whimper, a little to his left, right where the parking lot ends and opens to the hospital garden. 

“Oikawa?” He called again and was relieved when he heard a soft, “Iwa-chan?” answer back. He finally saw the silhouette of a guy who was sitting on one of the benches facing the illuminated fountain which was the only source of light. In the darkness, his black hoodie and pants made him appear like a shadow. 

When Hajime got nearer, he saw that the guy was in bad shape—his usually styled hair looked disheveled, cheeks a little sunken, and his eyes were swollen probably from crying too much.

“What happened?” He asked, approaching him slowly like he was a fragile, small animal he was careful not to scare away. This wasn’t the Oikawa he knew and it pained him so much to see him like this.

Oikawa managed to give a delirious smile, “You came…” He chuckled softly more to himself as if he couldn’t believe Hajime was really there, or that Hajime would even come at all. 

But how could I not? He thought as he moved to sit beside him. His face turned into a scowl when he noticed the stench of alcohol coming from the guy followed by a funky metallic smell. He looked down at his lap and saw Oikawa holding an opened bottle of sake—the same one they got from Tokyo.

“Oi, was that just a drunk call?” Hajime would seriously go ballistic if it was just that—especially when he probably violated a couple of traffic rules just to get here as fast as he can because he thought the guy was in serious trouble.

“Maybe?” Oikawa suggested but before Hajime could snap at him, the guy leaned down to place his head on his shoulders, “Or maybe I just really, really wanted to see you.” His voice was soft and airy… but something just didn’t sit well with Hajime.

“You know, you could have easily told us to meet up. You don’t need to give me a heart attack just to—” His words trailed off… because the implications of what he just said dawned on him. The meaning wasn’t lost on Oikawa who looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile tugging in his lips, “You’re beginning to like me, don’t you?”

He found the question ridiculous because, aren’t they already going out?

When he turned to face him and call out this stupid notion, he couldn’t find the right words to do so. They were so close, he could smell the alcohol and feel the warmth of his breath on his face. He watched as the lights from the fountain, color the side of his face like a muted dream—why is he so beautiful?

“What are you even doing here at this hour?” He asked, changing the topic more for himself than for the other guy.

Oikawa sighed and leaned back on the bench, “I want to see NEOWISE again.” His speech was a little slurred and his movements ungainly. Hajime chuckled, “That sucks because you’re six thousand years a little too early.”

“We won’t be able to see it again, huh?”

“I think we’re lucky enough to have seen it once in our lives. We can’t be too greedy.”

Something about what he said broke something in Oikawa and he heard him sniffle. “Oi, are you crying?” He asked but Oikawa didn’t reply and instead, asked in return, “Why, Iwa-chan?” He cried sounding angrier than sad, “Why can’t I be a little bit greedy and ask for more time?

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked pulling away to see Oikawa smiling but tears were already pooling in the corners of his eyes. Why did Oikawa have to be this mysterious? Why can’t he understand him? 

“Did something happen to your mother?” He finally breached the question that he was sure would open up a hundred more.

“Something…” Oikawa chuckled under his breath and then he choked on a sob, “I miss her so much I want to see her again.”

“What—Oikawa, you’re drunk.” He said, and the man just laughed but there was no humor in it. He raised the bottle to his lips to take another swig but Hajime took it, easily prying it away from his fingers which he noticed were dead-cold, “I think you’ve had enough. Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

Hajime grabbed Oikawa’s wrist when he noticed that his sleeve was soaking wet. Frowning, he looked at his hands and even with the lack of enough lighting, he just knew what it was. 

Blood? What—

“Oi, Shittykawa what the fuck did you do?” His question died in his lips when the man slumped forward and crashed on his chest.

---

Hajime hated hospitals since his mother died. He vowed never to come back in that wretched place ever again. What happened before with his father was a miscalculation in his part—a lapse in judgment he promised never to do again.

And yet, here he was again… running towards the hospital steps, an unconscious Oikawa in his arms. He didn’t know that he would be forced back to that place that night, without another thought in his mind except for the man he was currently carrying in his arms, bleeding to death.

His head was already spinning at the smell of blood and alcohol but he managed to make it to the automatic doors which opened up to him. He burst into the hospital lobby terrifying all the staff inside who turned to him in alarm at his frantic state. It almost felt like he was in a movie and he wanted so much for it to be just that—to watch on the sidelines as this nightmare unfolds. But he was part of the cast.

“H-Help…” He couldn’t breathe, whether from the effort of running or from the panic rising to his throat, making it unable to form any words at all. The people around him were too shocked to react, probably not sure what they were looking at. There was nothing else to hear save for the loud drumming of his heart enough to deafen his ears. Finally, after a couple of shaky breaths, he screamed, “He-Help him! Please!!”

It was the girl at the front desk, the one who recognized him the day he went to see his father—Megumi, he remembered now, who saw what was happening. “Oh my god! He’s bleeding!” She yelped pointing at Oikawa. And then it’s as if someone pressed the play button and fast forward at the same time because suddenly there were a flurry of movements and sounds all around him.

What happened? How long was he like this? Where did you find him? The questions kept coming and he had no answers for them so he offered none. He was just mutely standing there as one of the nurses took Oikawa from his arms and laid him down on an available patient trolley. They were checking his signs, administering first aid right in front of him and he could hear them say: his pulse is very faint; he’s losing a lot of blood.

Hurry, please. His mind repeated this over and over like a mantra as they began wheeling Oikawa towards the wing where the emergency room was. One of the nurses was holding up Oikawa’s hand to slow down the bleeding yelled something about calling for the doctor but Hajime didn’t hear him properly. 

He watched as Oikawa was taken away from him, noticing how ashen the guy’s skin had become and how blue his lips were. A nurse came to his side to ask him more questions and he answered them mechanically.

How did you find him?  

In the hospital garden. He called me to pick him up. I wasn’t aware of the situation until I was there.

Did he show any signs of depression prior to this?

No—he seemed fine the last time I saw him but that was two weeks ago. Although we still message each other in LINE. Besides, I don’t even know what signs I should be looking for...

Was this the first time he did it?

I don’t know. We haven’t known each other for a long time and I think if he did this before, that’s something he wouldn’t really be open about.

He thought of what Kuroo told him just an hour ago—there were other rumors surrounding his disappearance. Was it this?

When she asked him for Oikawa’s emergency contact, he couldn’t think of anyone else but his mother who’s already confined in the hospital. 

“Maybe she could call someone up for him,” he suggested to which the nurse nodded. His father or a sibling, maybe… even though Oikawa never mentioned having any of those two present in his life right now. The nurse agreed—she told him she’d trace the patient Oikawa was related to and inform her.

A scene from the past kept crawling its way from the deep depths of memories that involved bright green eyes turning a moldy shade; flushed cheeks becoming sunken and grey… a soft, weak voice calling him. He pushed it away, fought back against it even as the smell of disinfectant grew stronger. His breath came fast and short and he felt dizzy. 

With the last ounce of his strength, he ran back out the door and into the open, taking in gulps of cold, bitter air like he was drowning. He closed his eyes and held himself up against the wall as he willed his heart to calm down or else he’d have a heart attack.

“…jime-kun… Hajime-kun! Hajime-kun!”

Megumi was looking up at him with a worried face, “Are you hurt anywhere? I could call in some people to fix you up.” She reached out to touch Hajime but he flinched at the touch. Megumi retracted her hand and gave a soft,sympathetic smile, “Is Oikawa-kun your friend?”

It didn’t even surprise him that Megumi knew the guy. Considering how much time Oikawa spends in the hospital to be with his mother and how personable he is, Megumi would definitely know him. He should know—he was in that same position before.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. They’re doing the best they can to save him.” He’s sure that it was supposed to calm him but he was already a nervous wreck that it didn’t really help. He was so confused and feeling so guilty for even taking away a few of those extra minutes from Oikawa when he sat down to talk to him when he should have checked on him as soon as he saw him.

Questions filled his mind: Why did Oikawa do it? Was he suffering from depression and I didn’t know about it? Why didn’t I notice this sooner?

Looking at his hands, he noticed that it still had Oikawa’s blood—and his shirt still had some fresh bloodstains. How much blood did he lose? Is he going to survive—no, he must survive this. As if he was in autopilot mode, he turned to Megumi, “I—have to wash up.”

They went inside again, with him fighting the urge to throw up. Megumi handed him an extra shirt which she said they keep for their nursing aides. The bathroom isn’t that far from the entrance and was also thankfully empty when he entered which was good because even without  looking at the mirror, he knew he must have looked like a mess. 

He dragged himself to the sink, turned on the faucet and rubbed the dried blood on his hands under the running water. He watched as the bloody water circle the drain until the color faded into a tinge of pink. He splashed some cold water to his face, just to wake himself up because he was still half-convinced that this was just a really bad dream.

Someone please wake me up. He whispered under his breath. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home and crawl in his bed and wake up tomorrow with Oikawa’s annoying messages in the morning. Maybe, if I leave now I could just pretend this isn’t happening. 

But the thought of leaving Oikawa made his chest ache so much he couldn’t understand why. He looked at himself in the mirror and felt disgusted with himself. You’re selfish. You don’t deserve his friendship at all. He changed into the borrowed shirt and used his old one to wipe himself.

When he went out, he wasn’t expecting to see his father waiting for him in the lobby. Megumi looked sheepishly at him and he knew she must have informed him. He was occupying one of the chairs and was regarding him with an apathetic look which wasn’t new to him.

When it looked like he wouldn't be approaching him, his father took the initiative to walk towards him. “Are you hurt?” Was the first question he asked, to which he just shook his head.

“Was it the same boy?” It was not a genuine question but more of a confirmation.

Before he could answer, the nurse who interviewed him approached him once again. She noticed his father and greeted him politely before he turned to Hajime with a frown, “You told me his name is Oikawa Tooru, right?” 

He nodded and the scowl on the woman’s face deepened, “We have no one sharing his surname here. The last patient we’ve had that was Oikawa Chiharu and she died nine months ago.” She paused and then flipped some pages on her clipboard, “We have some records with him though. He’s under the program of Sasaki-sensei of the Neurology department.”

It was as if the world had been turned upside down on him. Oikawa’s mother has been dead all this time? Oikawa as the patient? It didn’t make sense—or he didn’t want it to make sense.

He shook his head in complete disbelief, “There… must have been some mistake. Clearly, he was just visiting his mother. He’s not a patient. He’s not sick. If he was, he would tell me.”

But there was truth in the nurse’s eyes and he just knew she isn’t lying. 

“Sasaki-sensei?” His father chimed in, “Isn’t he collaborating a research on HD with Tokyo University?”

“Ah, yes…Iwaizumi-sensei.” The nurse agreed, “He has a program with experimental drugs for Huntington’s Disease.”

“Huntington’s Disease?”

He piped in, confused at the foreign words. Even the name feels wrong on his tongue. It didn’t even sound like a disease—it almost, sounds cool. Except his father gave him a worried look which was pretty rare, “You didn’t know about his condition?”

Condition. He didn’t even say sickness. He said condition as if it was something permanent and something that Oikawa wouldn’t live past…it’s almost like a death sentence which he found impossible because apart from what happened, Oikawa is in tiptop shape. He shrugged nonchalantly, “Is it something serious?”

His father and the nurse shared a look and they didn’t even need to answer. Hajime just knew.   

---

Being in Shinjuku was like being in a technicolor paradise. He was standing in the middle of Shinjuku’s central park, blinded by the city lights and deafened by the noises of the street.

Why am I here?

“Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa was a few feet from him, smile in place, his hand held out for him, “Don’t you know? It’s only normal to hold each other’s hands when you go somewhere unfamiliar so you won’t get lost.”

What? Was that all a dream? Were they really just still here in Shinjuku? Did he imagine everything?

He stared at his hand and it looked real enough for him. Before he could even reach out, the guy pulled away with a huff, “Hmn… Don’t blame me if you lose me, then.” 

He caught up with him, eventually, “Stupid, We’re literally standing side by side. How can I lose you?”

“Oh, but didn’t you already lose me?”

And when he turned back to him, he was no longer there.

---

It had been a long, sleepless night of just staring blankly at the ceiling, falling in and out of consciousness until the first signs of morning spilled into his room and told him it was time to move. It was like waking in a dream when he dragged himself from the bed and into the bathroom to take a shower, if only to feel a little less awful than he already feels.

He didn’t know how he even got home last night, but he vaguely remembers his father saying he’ll drive him home. Pathetic. He felt pathetic not just for relying on his father, but for leaving Oikawa.

You could not do much for him now. The best thing to do is go home and come back tomorrow.

Megumi did update him in the middle of the night—they already stitched him up. He’s no longer in danger. You can now rest easy.

Rest easy—as if that was the easiest thing to do.

When he got out of the shower and headed downstairs, he was surprised to still find his father in the kitchen, eating breakfast. He certainly didn’t want to deal with him early in the morning, but what could he do?

“Hajime, have breakfast with me.” It wasn’t a suggestion but more of a command. Hajime dragged himself to the empty chair across his father and took in what the man prepared. As expected, it wasn’t anything extraordinary, he toasted some bread and brewed some coffee. At least, he took out some butter from the fridge.

“Are you going back to the hospital?”

He nodded without saying anything. He just took a piece of toast and spread butter on it before popping it into its mouth. It already lost its crunch and it tastes bland in his mouth. 

His father seemed to consider his next words before speaking again, “Did you look up his condition?”

He paused, before—“I did.”

Last night, when he couldn’t sleep, he did read about the disease that Oikawa was supposed to have. There were a lot of articles about it, even videos of people with the same disease—but what became clear to him was there’s no cure for this.

HD is a hereditary neurodegenerative disease that affects one’s movements, memory and behavior. Symptoms and prognosis vary from person to person but once the first symptoms appear, the person can live up to ten to thirty years. He had seen videos of people in the last stage of the disease but had to stop midway because he kept imaging Oikawa in that helpless state and his heart couldn’t take it.

“Do you… understand what it means?” 

Honestly, in his sleep-deprived brain—he doesn’t fully grasp the implications of it. He still hasn’t fully wrapped his head around the idea of Oikawa being sick and right now, he just wants to see him.

When he didn’t respond, his father gave an exasperated sigh, “That means he won’t be cured, and he won’t get better.”

Yeah, that one is clear as day.

“You have to reconsider your friendship with him.”

Reconsider. He wished it was as simple as that. He wished he could go back to that time when Oikawa was merely someone who blackmailed him into helping him out. He wished he could do take back all those weekends he spent with the guy. He didn’t mind those dull Saturdays, after all.

His father was sitting still in front of him, cold and unfeeling. Hajime tried to recall any memory of his father that didn’t always feel like this but couldn’t remember any. 

“Are you going to tell me to abandon him like how you abandoned me?” The poison in his words stung and he saw his father flinch at his attack. Good. His father looked like he would argue or deny his accusation, but changed his mind.

“There’s a program in Tokyo.” His father continued after a while, “You always wanted to leave Miyagi, didn’t you? I could pull a few strings and help you get into their science program. You could—you don’t have to stay here anymore.”

He chuckled in mock amusement, “Are you this desperate that you’d be fine sending me away just so to stop me from seeing him?”

“I’m not thinking about him.” His father said, “I just… want you to think about your future. This thing you have with him… this... it won’t last forever. You will learn to live without it.”

“Learn to live without it?” Hajime scoffed, “That’s huge coming from a man who stopped being a father the moment his wife died. You couldn’t cope with your loss and now you’re telling me that I would move past it.”

His father stared at him like he’d been slapped. And it probably must have been what it felt like, “That… I didn’t mean that.”

Hajime wanted to spite him. Tell him that if he wanted to apologize, it’s too late now. The damage has been done there was just no way they could fix their relationship anymore. But his throat burned so much for holding back his tears and he couldn’t speak.

“Hajime, you have to let it go while you still can. You have to. You can’t make the same mistake I did.” He had never seen his father look so broken before and he didn’t know what to make of it. All his life he painted his father as the selfish, career-crazed, unfeeling monster that he is, but now—it was like seeing a side of him he didn’t even know existed. “Your mother, she was the love of my life and I loved her more than anything in this world… and when she died… it’s like a part of me—no, it’s like most of me died.”

“…”

“You’re still young. You wouldn’t understand it now but there is nothing you can do for him.”

Hajime didn’t want to stare at the truth now. Didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that the nurse and his father might actually be saying the truth about Oikawa. He wanted to believe they were wrong.

“I’m going.” He said finally and he was out the door before his father could even respond.

---

The hospital still terrified him. He still spent a few minutes in the parking lot, trying to calm himself and not panic at the mere idea of going inside. It was kind of funny knowing last night, he wasn’t even thinking about himself when he took Oikawa inside, but right now—the old anxiety crept back to him with twice the strength. But he steeled his resolve, went out of his car and marched his way towards the building.

The hallway to the private wards was worse than the lobby. The highly polished linoleum reflects the artificial lights overhead and the beige walls simply grow from the floor in a continuous stretch upwards to the ceiling. He passed by identical doorways bearing numbers in the same silver lettering and nameplates below with the names of the physicians handling the patients.

Nothing has changed.

Oikawa’s room was at the dead-end of the hallway, near the supply nurse’s station. Room 809 it read and under it, wrote in bold letters was his physician’s name Sasaki Kojiro, Neuro. He held onto the doorknob for a few minutes until it became too uncomfortable to just be standing there doing nothing. When he knocked, it was a different voice that told him to come in.

The room was designed so that when you enter it, you don’t see the patient right away but a white thin curtain divider separating the bed from the rest of the room. Seeing the bleakness of the room, Hajime regretted that he didn’t bring him any flowers. Considering this, it was a lot better and brighter than the hallways and the hospital itself—with its cream walls and huge glass windows.

He could see the two silhouettes behind the curtain—one of which he was sure was Oikawa and the other, probably Sasaki-sensei. Instead of approaching, Hajime stayed by the door, unsure of what to do or say. They maybe mistook him for a nurse or a maintenance staff which was valid considering how early he visited. A bespectacled man probably in his late thirties wearing a doctor’s coat poked his head out of the curtain, and saw him. He frowned for a minute before his face bloomed into recognition, “Ah, you must be Iwaizumi-san.”

He doesn’t remember ever seeing the doctor, not even during his stay in the hospital, so it didn’t make to sense to him how the doctor knew him until—

“Iwa-chan?” It was Oikawa’s voice this time and the doctor then stepped into view and gestured for him to come near, “You must be here to visit him. It’s okay, you can come in. I was just about to leave, anyway.”

He expected to see the worst when he saw Oikawa—but all he saw was the same guy, sitting on the hospital bed, a soft smile on his lips. He was a little paler under the morning light, but all in all, he looked the same. Hajime was inclined to think that they, indeed, were mistaken. He was not sick—except for Sasaki-sensei’s presence in the room.

Hajime turned to the doctor and gave a polite bow, “Iwaizumi Hajime. I’m not sure we’ve been acquainted before.”

“Oh, we haven’t. I’m Sasaki Kojiro, Tooru-kun’s doctor.” He said. Hajime couldn’t help but compare Sasaki-sensei to his father. For one, the guy was younger and has a comely, soothing presence.

“Tooru-kun is always talking about you.” The doctor said, smiling, “Kept going on and on about how you’re—”

“Sensei!” Oikawa yelped, alarmed and the doctor just chuckled in amusement. He reached out to ruffle his hair and Hajime didn’t like that one bit. But he did not say it out loud. “Sorry, sorry… Anyway, I’ll visit you again this afternoon. Just take it easy and take your meds. Your friend is here anyway so that will keep you busy.” He gave them both a wink before he walked out the room.

Hajime thought having the doctor there was awkward—but it wasn’t as awkward as not having him there at all. The silence between them stretched as Hajime sort of stood stiffly in the corner of the room, not even sparing a glance at the guy who he was sure wasn’t looking at him as well.

Talk. He thought to himself. Talk, goddammit.

“Neh, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s voice was soft and quiet when he spoke but because the room was enveloped in silence, he heard it clearly, “Two truths and one lie.” There was pretend humor in there, and Oikawa was smiling at him when he looked up. But his eyes were sad and it hurt so bad.

He opened his mouth to respond, but Oikawa had already spoken.

“One, my mother died months ago but I always come here to eat her favorite cake every first Saturday of the month as we used to back when we were living in Tokyo.” A pause, “Two, she died from complications of a neurodegenerative disease with no cure,” Another pause,  but this time, it’s longer, and when he spoke, his voice was trembling, “Three, I am suffering from the same disease...had been for the past seven years.”

Seven years.

Hajime wanted to say something—but at that moment of vulnerability, what could he say to make it all better? What could he say to make the look Oikawa was giving him disappear? What could he do to make it go away? He had nothing—right at that very moment, he realized his father was right—he could do nothing for Oikawa.

His father was right, of course. He hated the fact that he is, but also acknowledged, with bitterness that what he was saying absolutely, without a doubt, makes perfect sense.

Oikawa would not get better. It will all be downhill from here. It’s not yet too late to back out. He should not put himself through the same thing, again. He couldn’t let his feelings destroy him, again.

He could run away now. Leave everything—his memories, his life here… and Oikawa.

“Three,” He responded—more of begged and Oikawa laughed bitterly, “Wrong. All I said were truths.”

“That’s not how the game’s supposed to be played.”

“I know.” Oikawa shrugged, “But I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

There were tears in Oikawa’s eyes when he looked up at Hajime and the smile on his lips was beautiful as it was fragile. His hands were visibly shaking and now he knew that it wasn’t because he was cold—it never was.

Move. Hajime willed himself to do something. If you’re not going to go to him, at least leave. Don’t watch him break himself for you.

“I should have never talked to you.” Oikawa said softly, “I should have not forced you into this mess.”

“That day, when we met, my life was already over, all the experimental drugs I’ve been taking to slow down the symptoms, they’ve become ineffective so I wanted to… and I was on my way to the roof deck, eat my mom’s favorite cake and just…” The words died in his lips and the truth dawned on Hajime.

“I’m sorry for being cruel and selfish…I should have told you sooner. I should have stopped.” His lips quivered and then he just lost it—burying his face into his hands, he began sobbing, “I’m… sorry. I really, really, really am sorry.”

Hajime’s heart broke. The logical part of his brain wanted to leave. Leave. Fucking go and leave him alone. But instead, his legs carried him to Oikawa’s side and he found himself reaching out for the guy. Oikawa cowered from his touch, like he felt undeserving of it, and he pushed him away. The force was too weak but the rejection, too strong that Hajime pulled his hands back and just watched him—

Watched the first person he cared for, after a very long time just break in front of him.

“Don’t.” Oikawa cried, “There’s a limit to how selfish I could be. I couldn’t take more time away from you.”

More time? As if he was the one running out of time!

“Oi, Shittykawa!” Hajime grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to look at him, “What are you sorry for? I always knew you had a shitty personality and that you’re selfish and stubborn. So why are you crying like this? Why are you apologizing for coming into my life?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m already taking time away from you—”

“That’s bullshit.” Hajime snapped, “You still have, what? Two or three years ahead of you? That’s still a lot of Saturdays, you know.”

“You don’t understand!” Oikawa yelled, swiping his hands away, “Even if I have those time, I wouldn’t be the same! I wouldn’t be me. All the things you know about me… they’d be gone.”

Of course, Hajime knew. He had seen the videos. HD patients will lose their ability to move freely, to speak, to walk, even to stand. They’d be stuck in bed, in a wheelchair as the disease ravages their body… he knew this and he didn’t even have to ask him because the answer was already in Oikawa’s eyes. His own form of defiance—that was what this is about.

Hajime hated it. He understood it, but he hated it, “…why do you make it seem like it was a mistake to save you?”

Oikawa blinked at him, surprised by the question. And then he sighed and reached out to touch Hajime’s face, “Because I didn’t want to be saved.”

His hand was cold, but it felt like he was imprinting his handprint onto Hajime’s cheek. A lone tear began to fall, followed by another and then another, until they came down in unstoppable rivulets. He grabbed onto Oikawa’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Don’t blame me if you lose me.”

I’m holding your hand.

I’m holding it tight.

So why—why am I still losing you?

---

“Yo, Iwa! Here!”

Kuroo was smoking yet again in their campus—not to mention, just beside their gym. What’s worse is that Bokuto was with him—and another guy, Akaashi.

Hajime surveyed the surroundings to make sure that none of their teammates was there to blab and if there were, he could easily walk away and pretend he didn’t see them. When he was sure that the coast was clear, he approached the three, “Coach is going to kill you if he finds out.”

He nodded at both Bokuto and Akaashi, who also gave him a polite nod. Until now, he couldn’t believe those two are together. Akaashi seemed too prim and proper for someone as chaotic as Bokuto. But maybe, that’s the strength of their dynamics.

“Coach will already kill me for skipping practice today.” Kuroo countered, “So I don’t think smoking would make a difference.”

“He would kill you and shit on your mouth.” Bokuto offered, earning a disappointed sigh from Akaashi and a reprimanding, “Bokuto-san.”

“Speaking of which, why did you skip practice today?”

“I got caught up on something.”

“By caught up he meant he woke up late with all the sex he got last night.”

“Bo, what the fuck?!”

“Bokuto-san!”

“What?! You’re the one who told us!” Bokuto countered and then he turned to Akaashi, “You heard it too, Akaashi. He just told us.”

“That is not the point.”

“Yes, listen to your boyfriend, Bo. That is not why we’re here.”

“If you’re going to tell me some gross details about your sex life, I’m leaving.”

“No, no! Iwa! Come on. That’s not why I messaged you to come here.”

Hajime sighed, running his hands through his hair. He hasn’t had any decent sleep for the past three weeks now and this is seriously not helping him in any way. “Well?”

“So we’re thinking we should hang out tonight. Considering it’s your last Friday in Miyagi.”

Two months ago, he decided to take on his father’s offer to continue his studies in Tokyo University. He got the acceptance two months later from the Science Department and needed to cram all the preparations for his transfer in one month. He had been driving to Tokyo and back every weekend, submitting requirements and looking for apartments.

His friends, of course were shocked at first and considered this a betrayal, vowing that if they meet in court, they would annihilate Tokyo U’s volleyball team. Hajime wasn’t even sure he’d join any club there.

“Come on, Iwa. It’ll be fun. We’ll drink and go to that batting place you always wanted to go to when we were first years.”

“Oh, he’s good. Babe, what did I tell you? Now Iwa could not refuse him.” Bokuto said gesturing at Akaashi who looked unimpressed. Or maybe, that’s just how he looks like?

Hajime sighed, “Fine. But I just have to drop by the faculty to submit my final report to Irihata-sensei. Wait for me in the parking lot?”

“Sure.”

“Ah, can I walk with you?” Akaashi asked suddenly, surprising him and Bokuto, “I left some books in my classroom and I have to get it back.”

“Want me to walk with you?” Bokuto offered which made a lot of sense. But Akaashi shook his head, “If you go with me, it might take too long since you easily get distracted by everything you see in our film room.”

“AKAAASHII!”

“I’ll see you in the parking lot, Bokuto-san.” He said finally, before turning to Hajime, “Let’s go?”

“Ah, sure.” Hajime said leading the way and completely ignoring Kuroo who was teasing Bokuto about how his boyfriend completely chose Hajime over him.

Akaashi was quiet beside him for the most part of their walk, but when they reached the multimedia arts building, he turned to Hajime and asked, “Does Oikawa-san know you’re leaving?”

At first, he was confused of the question—until he remembered that Akaashi is in the same department as Oikawa’s. And though they’re in different years, they might have shared some classes together, considering Oikawa’s irregular schedule. But for Akaashi to ask—he didn’t even know they were close enough.

He cleared his throat, “Um, no.”

 “Are you not going to tell him?”

What for? He hadn’t seen nor talked to the guy ever since that day in the hospital. The last update he heard was from Megumi, that same week, telling him that Oikawa has now been discharged. Even so, he didn’t receive any messages from the guy nor did he attempt any other type of communication.

He shook his head, “It’s better this way.”

Akaashi nodded but he obviously didn’t agree at all. He wanted to ask more—maybe, Akaashi could tell him any updates about Oikawa, but it would be weird if he asked. Wouldn’t it?

“I didn’t know you’re close with him.”

“I’m not.” Akaashi said, hesitating, “We were just working on a project in our animation class. And also, he’s also pretty popular in our department.”

“I bet. He’s pretty good looking.”

“It’s not that… well, it is that. But also because…” Akaashi responded, “People kind of learned about his sickness a month ago. I guess, it’s a bit hard to hide anyway because of the wheelchair.”

“Wheelchair?”

Akaashi blinked at him in confusion, “Yeah? He began using that a month ago. Surely, Bokuto-san told you about it because whenever he drops by and sees Oikawa-san… he would chat with him for a…” His voice trailed off when he realized Hajime didn’t know and just like the proper guy that he is, the next words were, “I apologize.”

“You don’t have to.” Hajime replied, “I mean… what’s to apologize for? It was our choice.”

Akaashi hummed in response but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, we both know I couldn’t do anything for him.” He wasn’t sure if he was saying that for Akaashi’s sake or for his sake. But his throat felt tight and his eyes burned. The smaller guy was looking at him with a perturbing look before he sighed and said, “So you’re leaving without saying goodbye?”

Ouch. That hurt. “It’s not like… I have a choice, don’t I?” Oikawa didn’t want to be saved.

Akaashi shrugged and Hajime hated how Bokuto’s boyfriend was so observant and so insightful. Maybe he learned that by being with Bokuto, but how dare he read into Hajime’s feelings? They’ve hung out periodically when his boyfriend would bring him along… but even then, they barely talked.

“My building’s here.” He said, pointing at the multimedia arts building—more to remind Hajime that they’d be separating already. Hajime nodded and watched Akaashi walk towards the deserted-looking building. During night, with only little lighting—it looked like deformed a sleeping monster, as the rest of the structures in the campus.

“He didn’t want to be saved!” He called out to Akaashi who stopped and spun around to gape at him in confusion, “Oikawa. I… tried but he didn’t want me to.”

Akaashi nodded and smiled, “Of course, he’d tell you that.”

“Why? If that’s not what he meant, why would he…”

“Bokuto-san and Oikawa-san always told me you’re dense… and now I think I kinda get it.”

“…”

The next words Akaashi said stuck to Hajime even after the guy had already walked inside the building and left him standing alone in the darkness.

You always choose to bleed for people you love.

Tohoku University is huge—almost as huge as Tokyo University. Oikawa’s dorm is located in Aobayama, which is still a 30-minute walk from the science building—twenty, if you’re like Hajime who sprinted his way towards the building and breathing heavily, drenched in sweat—earning weird looks from the rest of the students in the lobby.

He knew his way in this building, and he traced his steps towards the familiar route he made many times for the past month. Take the elevator to the fourth floor, turn left and walk until you see the broken vending machine, at the end of the hall, the door with the peeling number—door 416. Oikawa’s room—small, cluttered with books and DVDs. He’s not the really good in housekeeping, but his bed was always warm and comfortable; and music always seemed to perpetually play inside.

Oikawa would be sitting on the floor, reading a book or writing and he would be on the bed, just watching him work. He didn’t even know he had these memories, until he was standing in front of his door, heart drumming in his chest as he pondered on his next actions. Should I knock? Should I just open it and barge in, without any warning?

His palms itched, he closed it into a fist and took a deep, shuddering breath, willing all his nerves to stay at bay but it wasn’t helping. He looked down at his feet, feeling the panic rising inside his chest. He came here on a whim, without really thinking what he will do and now, he’s lost.

This is stupid. Why am I even here? Maybe Akaashi lied. Hell, he didn’t even know him well enough so why would he even listen to him? He and his boyfriend should really start minding their own businesses.

Knock. Just knock.

What do I tell him? What could I possibly tell him that would make him forgive me for leaving him like that? Would he even talk to me?

Knock, Hajime. Just knock and—

The door swung open but it wasn’t Oikawa, but a tall guy with pink hair and a confused frown who instantly sized him up when their eyes met, “Who are you?”

Hajime didn’t recognize the guy. Oikawa’s friend? He had never seen him before and he didn’t look like he came from the university at all. A guy from Tokyo?

“Makki, who is it?” Oikawa’s voice finally came from behind the guy and Oikawa finally came into view. He wasn’t in his wheelchair—but there were weights strapped around his legs and his steps were uneven and unsteady—like that of a toddler learning to walk for the first time. But apart from that, he looked the same. Brown eyes, brown hair mussed up a little, a little thinner than he used, but he still looked beautiful. When he saw Hajime, it looked like he had seen a ghost, “Iwa-chan?”

“Oh, so this is the Iwa-chan?” The guy called Makki quipped but none of them confirmed his identity. “I must say, he’s a lot smaller in person than in your photos.”

“Photos?” Hajime’s curiosity was piqued and Makki smirked, “Oh, that’s right, Iwa-chan. Our dear Tooru takes photos of you secretly and sends them to his friends back in Tokyo, like a fucking creep that he is.”

“Makki! Shut up!”

“Now you’re embarrassed?”

Oikawa’s eyes shot daggers at the guy who raised his hands in surrender. Then he turned to Hajime, “What are you doing here?”

It took a few moments before Hajime found his voice, “I… wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay, that’s my cue to leave. I’ll follow Issei at the cafeteria downstairs, you want anything, Oikawa?” to which Oikawa replied No and then the guy was out the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Oikawa gestured to the chair in his study as he wobbled to his bed. Hajime moved to assist him but Oikawa raised his hand, “It’s okay, Iwa-chan. I can manage.”

The room looked different—the spaces were cleared out and there was a folded wheelchair beside the bed. Oikawa noticed him looking and he chuckled, “Don’t worry. I only use it when I’m out because I don’t want to be late in classes.” They sat across each other, almost at arm’s length, but Hajime felt the distance between them stretch wider than before. Oikawa smiled bitterly, “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

 “What do you mean?” Hajime asked, unsure what Oikawa was saying. He still looked beautiful and whenever he smiled, his heart still skipped a beat. Oikawa scoffed in disbelief, “Who are you and what did you do to my friend?”

“What?”

“This isn’t like you, Iwa-chan. You’re being too kind about it. That doesn’t suit your personality.”

Trust Oikawa to still get on his nerves despite everything, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“There he is,” Oikawa laughed lightheartedly and the sound of it was too familiar, Hajime wanted to pretend they were back to where they were before months ago. He wished they could have frozen time back then—when things weren’t so fucked up between them and he…they had more time.

“I… got a scholarship from Tokyo.” He said softly and Oikawa looked surprised—then a bit hurt, which he immediately covered with one of his fake smiles, “Congratulations, Iwa-chan. Tokyo is a beautiful city. I’m sure—"

“I thought you said no more lies?”

“…” Oikawa, then sighed, “Why are you here, Iwa-chan? Are you here to say goodbye? Because if you are, I don’t think it’s necessary because—”

“Oikawa.” Hajime interrupted before the guy could complete his sentence, “Are you in love with me?”

The question caught him off-guard as he definitely didn’t expect that question to be thrown his way that carelessly. As if Hajime didn’t know what it meant or what it entails. Or maybe he did know, but right now, he didn’t care.

Because the past two months were hell for him. Because the past two months, he kept himself busy trying to distract himself because he didn’t want to think. The times he drove to Tokyo, he put on his audiobooks and turned them on to full blast because he didn’t want to listen to Oikawa’s playlist which was still saved in his player. But he also didn’t want silence.

“Have you gone crazy?”

“Just answer the question.”

“What do you want from me? You know this will go nowhere no matter what I—”

“Just answer the fucking question, Tooru.”

Oikawa lost his words when he said his name. He just stared at Hajime like he committed a crime. Then he laughed, bitterly, “Why? Are you?”

The thing is, Hajime already knew the answer. Knew it two months ago but didn’t want to admit it to himself. He rose from his seat and approached Oikawa, reaching out to touch his face “You forced your way into my life… ruined my Saturdays with your pointless adventures, your stupid films, your silly love songs—and that insufferable personality.”

When he held Oikawa’s face, his cheeks were cold and wet from the tears—but his eyes were shimmering under the fluorescent and he never looked so beautiful—no, not beautiful. He smiled, “You were absolute chaos—but you were also pure magic.”

He watched as a dozen of emotions flashed before Oikawa’s eyes. Confusion, glee, sorrow, guilt… how could one person hold so many conflicting feelings—and then he settled for one but Hajime couldn’t read it as the guy began to cry. They didn’t need more words. Hajime pulled him in for an embrace and this time, Oikawa didn’t push him away, didn’t try to retreat to himself… instead, with strong hands, the guy held on to him. Held on as if he was afraid Hajime would disappear.

“I think, I am…”

“Hmn?”

“In love with you.”

“I know you are.”

“And I think… you’re in love with me, too.”

“I think so, too.”

Hajime didn’t go home that night. He stayed beside Oikawa’s bed, kissing and sharing the love they stopped themselves to feel because they were too afraid to lose each other in the future, so they foolishly decided to lose each other now—as if that would hurt less or as if that was ever an option.

They knew now, as Hajime laid Oikawa down the bed, watched the stars in his eyes, caught the gasp with his mouth, and felt the guy come helplessly undone before him, that they couldn’t just magically turn off the thing that made them fall in love in the first place.

---

“What color do you want them again?”

“White, of course. I’m not an animal.”

“Ah, I thought you’d love something livelier.”

“Hmm, I guess pale yellow would be nice too.”

“Like a really…really… pale urine color?”

“Why are you being so gross?”

“Hey, I’m just throwing in some suggestions!”

Oikawa chucked a UFO-shaped pillow his way which he was quick to dodge. The target was off and the force was weak, but it still managed to hit him on the side of his body. He chuckled and picked up the plushie from the floor, it was the one he had bought Oikawa for Christmas a few months ago along with the rest of the wild collection of space-themed trinkets back in his dorm room. He dusted it off before he returned it to Oikawa who had resumed browsing through the magazine he had been reading for the past hour or so.

“Scooch,” He whispered softly, placing the plush back across Oikawa’s leg before climbing in himself to sit beside the guy who barely gave him enough space in the narrow bed. The spring mattress creaked under their weight for a choking moment and they froze as things settled and then Oikawa rolled his eyes up at him, “You know this bed is meant for one person only, right?”

He said this, but Iwaizumi didn’t miss how Oikawa’s body visibly relaxed at their close proximity. They weren’t necessarily touching, but they were near enough to feel each other’s warmth. He would never tell Oikawa about how his usually aggravating presence strangely always provided some sort of comfort to him, not if he doesn’t want to hear it until the end of his days.

Ignoring his previous question, Iwaizumi turned his eyes on the wedding magazine Oikawa was holding and frowned, “Is that really necessary?” He wasn’t referring to the magazine at all, but the fact that Oikawa was choosing flowers for his future funeral. He was still against it as he thinks the overall idea was not just morbid but completely uncalled for, but Oikawa, of course, had insisted on doing it.

I need to make sure things were perfect. If he didn’t know any better, the guy is doing this to prepare him for his eventual death. Hajime doubts anything could prepare him for that.

“You know nothing about culture, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa said in a singsong voice before he proceeded to leaf through the magazine again, “You find the best seasonal flower recommendations in these wedding magazines. Not to mention, you can sometimes score deals and coupons to buy them.”

He was about to say it wasn’t the magazine, but he didn’t want to open up that argument again. Oikawa was in his good moods and with him, one could never know what to expect the next day or the next hour. It’s not like he can help it—part of having HD is having these uncontrollable mood swings and bouts of depression. So instead, he scoffed at his priggish attitude, “Oh, you mean like on the internet?”

“Nothing beats flipping through actual, physical pages, Iwa-chan. Of course, you wouldn’t know that because you’re an uncultured brute.” Oikawa sneered giving him a side-eye. Iwaizumi was about to say how impressive that Oikawa hasn’t combusted yet with the size of his inflated ego, but the guy smiled at him and the words just disappeared in his tongue.

Oh, it was unfair how his heart immediately picked up at the genuine smile the boy had given him and Iwaizumi had an ounce of courage in him right now, he would have told Oikawa how he should smile more like that. But he stayed quiet and the silence between them stretched. It wasn’t awkward anymore—they had gone past that stage a long time ago. They could now sit comfortably with each other, without feeling the need to fill the air with unnecessary conversations.

He watched Oikawa thumb through the glossy pages, fingers wobbling as he grasped the corner of each paper. Iwaizumi tried his best not to stare at those pale, bony fingers, but it was incredibly difficult—and Oikawa did not miss it.

“Stop that, Iwa-chan.” He said, a soft smile playing on his lips, “I know you think I’m pretty but you really ought to stop gawking at me.”

How can I not? He wanted to say, because Oikawa looked different, not necessarily bad because, for some ungodly reason, Oikawa always manages to look good in spite of his awful state. It’s just that he looked unhealthy. His brown eyes lacked the usual luster, his cheeks had sunken and the bags under his eyes had become a prominent feature on his face.

But probably the most disconcerting thing is the bandage on Oikawa’s forehead from when he lost his balance and fell two days ago during one of his physical therapy sessions. It wasn’t the therapist’s fault, Oikawa had claimed because they were supposed to be taking a break but he pushed himself harder. I don’t want to give up on walking just yet. I don’t want to be stuck in a wheelchair just yet.

“I wasn’t staring, Shittykawa.” He lied, before pushing himself off the bed, “Anyway, I should probably go. Class is about to start.”

A look of envy passed Oikawa’s eyes but he hid it well with a smile. Hajime knew he misses going to school but he had no choice. For a few months, he managed to get by, but eventually, things were becoming harder for him that he had no choice but to drop out.

Oikawa nodded at him, closing the magazine and giving him his full attention now, “Right. Thanks for dropping by—but you do know that you don’t have to spend your lunch breaks with me. Even if you drive, it will still take a lot of time.”

Hajime didn’t answer, but he ruffled Oikawa’s head to which the other guy whined. What he really wanted to say was he was doing it because he knew their days were numbered… so he’d take as many times as he is allowed to have. But he didn’t say it because he knew Oikawa would blame himself again. He hated seeing him cry.

“Geez! Right after I spent the entire morning doing my hair on my own!” Oikawa griped. Hajime felt a little bad because he knew it was already hard for the guy to do his own hair because his tremors have gotten worse lately. He smoothed his hair back—or at least tried his best to.

Oikawa liked these sweet moments and he leaned into his touch. It was routine now—Hajime would drop by during lunch break to eat lunch with Oikawa and then he’d drop by again during dinner so they could have dinner together. Sometimes, if his schedule would allow it, he would even stay the night. Oikawa would gripe and complain about him sharing the already small bed, but whenever he tried to leave, he would find the other wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back.

"I have practice this afternoon so I might be late for dinner."

"You seriously don't have to go." Oikawa said, smiling, "I know how volleyball practices can be really tiring, Iwa-chan. I was captain once."

That was one of the things Hajime still couldn't believe, how this pompous guy could be a team captain, nonetheless of a powerhouse team but Ushijima swore by it. 

“Don’t miss me so much, Iwa-chan.”

“You wish, Shittykawa.”

“Is that really the appropriate name to call your boyfriend?” Oikawa snapped and Hajime chuckled. Boyfriend. They had been dating for almost a year now, but that word still filled him with warmth.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” He said, leaning towards Oikawa so he could properly kiss him, surprising the other guy for a moment before a smile blossomed in his face.

“’I’ll see you tomorrow, Tooru.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hajime.”

---

“Iwa-cha—an are you really—-okay with this?”

“Yeah, so shut up before I change my mind.”

“Wow… so… rude.”

Hajime looked around before pushing Oikawa’s wheelchair through the hospital hallways as quietly as possible. Whenever a nurse passed them by, he and Oikawa would greet and nod at them casually before they moved along. They hoped they looked as nonchalant as they wanted to look because in reality, they were both giddy and nervous at the same time.

It was Oikawa’s fault. He mentioned this idea to him a couple of days ago—and he, the ever dutiful boyfriend decided to do it. It was the least he could do.

Thankfully, they only met two more nurses before they were able to slip in an empty elevator to take them to the topmost floor where the short stairs to the roof deck are located.

When they got there, the floor was completely empty apart from the maintenance staff whom Hajime bribed to let them in. He helped Oikawa up the steps while the old guy carried the wheelchair to the top of the stairs. The guy knew Hajime as the son of the chief so maybe that also helped.

His father still do not approve of his relationship with Oikawa...but also understood that he could do nothing about it. 

As they waited for the guy to open the locked door, Oikawa held on to him, shivering. He could barely stand now, but as always, he would still try his best. He also stammers a lot now when he speaks now, and sometimes he slurs his words making it difficult to understand. 

Sasaki-sensei advised him to slow down his words and Hajime told him that it doesn’t matter how slow he speaks, he would still listen. Still, because he didn’t want to become a burden, Oikawa mostly speaks in single or double-word phrases and uses gestures to communicate. Hajime became an expert in reading him.

The cold, night wind hit them once the doors were opened and Oikawa held on closer to him. He smiled and pulled him closer to his chest. Somehow, because of the muscle loss in his legs, the guy who was taller than him before, stood an inch smaller now. But he tried not to think about it, just as he tried not to think about all the other things that were changing Oikawa.

The guy helped them with the wheelchair and gave Hajime a thumbs up when he pushed Oikawa into the roof deck. “All’s set,” he whispered, “Just call me when you guys are done.”

Hajime nodded even when Oikawa gave both of them a quizzical look, “Set?” He asked and Hajime shrugged, “Don’t think about it.” To which Oikawa hummed in response.

It was a clear night without the moon so all the stars were the main event of the sky. They were spread in the sky like tiny fragments of glass, forming shapes and patterns Hajime couldn’t name. It wasn’t as breathtaking as the one they saw through the Hitomi telescope, but it was beautiful just the same.

Hajime looked down at Oikawa whose face was beaming at the stars above them. He saw those same stars reflected in his eyes and he was taken back to that time in Sendai. “Beau...ti...ful.” Oikawa whispered and looking down at his face, Hajime couldn’t agree more.

He let Oikawa watch the stars quietly for a few minutes before he nudged him from his stupor, “I have something else to show you.”

Oikawa gave an adorably confused frown as he pushed the wheelchair farther ahead the roof deck—past the huge water tank where the benches were located...

“What—“ Oikawa squeaked when he saw what Hajime was talking about. Near the corner of the roof deck there were blankets and pillows spread out on the floor. There was a cooler on the side where a lamp was lit, giving the setup a warm, romantic glow. In the middle of it, was a mid-sized telescope already pointed at the sky. “Iwa…” Oikawa looked up at him, tears already brimming his eyes.

“What? You think I’d forget the first time we went stargazing together?” He asked, grinning triumphantly.

Hajime helped him down the blankets, piling pillows on his back so he could sit comfortably. Of course, when he moved to sit on his spot, the guy held out his hand and gestured for them to sit closer together. He moved closer to Oikawa until there was no more space between them.

“How long...did you plan...this?”

“Since you mentioned you wanted to see the stars last week.” Hajime said opening the cooler beside him, grabbing a canned beer and some root beer for Oikawa, popping in a straw for easier drinking. Oikawa took it in his shaky hands and bowed his head in thanks. 

Hajime moved towards the telescope and took a peek, “This is not as good as the Hitomi telescope… but it’s the best I could find.”

“Did—you...buy?” Oikawa asked pointing at the telescope.

“Oh this? No.” Hajime chuckled, “Borrowed this from Kuroo’s boyfriend. Thought he was a science nerd just like you but turns out he’s just filthy rich, “Here.”

He held out his hand to Oikawa who accepted it after placing his root beer on the floor. Hajime moved so Oikawa was sitting between his legs and against his chest for support. He helped Oikawa lean forward to look into the telescope. 

Oikawa was holding onto his arm and though he couldn’t speak clearly to express his excitement—he would squeeze Hajime’s arm and make a soft sound every now and then whenever he sees something that piqued his interest. He let him do it for as long as he wants, even when his arm and numb went numb for staying in the same position for so long.

The air around them was cold, but Oikawa was warm inside his arms. Warm, alive. He wished he could freeze this moment right now—just as how he wished he could freeze every moment he had with the guy. He hugged him closer which somehow broke the spell Oikawa was under that he looked up at him, with questions in his eyes, “T-Tired?”

Hajime shook his head, “Sorry, you can still look if you want to.” To which Oikawa shook his head before pointing at his abandoned root beer, “Let’sss go—back.”

They went back to their original position, side by side. “Let’s listen to some music?” He suggested and Oikawa nodded, “Audio—books?”

Hajime rolled his eyes, “Oh shut up!” Oikawa laughed—it wasn’t the old loud, adorable, and slightly annoying laugh, this one was scratchy and breathy at the same time—like even laughing was painful. 

🎶 Outside another yellow moon

Has punched a hole in the night time mist

I climb through the window and down to the street

I'm shining like a new dime

The downtown trains are full

He saw Oikawa’s lip quirk up in a smile as he closed his eyes and listened to the song. His breathing slowed and he looked so peaceful. And Hajime could feel his heart fill up with emotions until his chest began to hurt and his eyes began to water. Because he wanted so much to stay here forever and not face tomorrow. 

He squeezed the man’s hand and whispered his name, “Tooru.”

The way Oikawa opened his eyes to look at him felt like they were in a slow-motion film. He could see every heartbeat of his movement, could feel the world quiet into a lull. And the look Oikawa gave him right there—glistening eyes filled with wonder, the warm yellow light silhouetting his features, lips slightly parted to ask an unheard question—that look, he’d surely remember forever.

🎶 You wave your hand and they scatter like crows

They have nothing that'll ever capture your heart

They're just thorns without the rose

Be careful of them in the dark

“I love you.”

Oikawa gave him a dazed look before a wistful smile bloomed on his face. With little difficulty, he moved to hold his face. Hajime closed his eyes to stop the tears from falling and even when he felt Oikawa’s cold touch, he kept his eyes shut. He felt Oikawa’s warm breath on his face, felt his lips move against his own when he spoke, “I love you, Hajime.”

🎶 Will I see you tonight 

On a downtown train

Every night, every night 

It's just the same

On a downtown train

His heart clenched tight as he kissed Oikawa, wrapping his arms around him, afraid to let go. It would be wrong, right? If I asked for more time? Because I knew it’ll be like this from the very beginning—but I didn’t know I would love him this much and god—just the thought of him being gone kills him.

When they parted, they were both crying—him harder than the other and it filled him with shame. Oikawa understood and didn’t judge. He wiped Hajime’s tears away and kissed his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids—until he felt more like a child and hid his face on the crook of the other guy’s neck.

“What do I do?” He asked, more to himself than to Oikawa. He didn’t need to specify because the guy holding him close knew what to say. Oikawa pulled away so he could hold his face into his hands and look straight to his eyes, “When...the time comes… You have… to… Let me go…”

---

It was his father who brought him the message. He was roused from sleep at around two in the morning with his father knocking on his door.

He just came from a training camp so as the and Oikawa agreed on, a few days ago, he had foregone visiting him so he could recuperate his energy in the morning. Little did he know that morning would not come

Hajime, he’s gone. He had said but in his sleep-addled brain, it felt like he was just dreaming. So, like the fool that he is, he grunted and went back to bed.

That night, he dreamt of Oikawa standing under the stars looking like the first time he met him. Healthy, happy, glowing in a magic light. He was looking up at the sky, unaware of Hajime’s presence. He was the one who grabbed onto his hand to catch his attention and Oikawa looked down at him, with a surprised gasp. It’s only normal to hold each other’s hands when you go somewhere unfamiliar so you won’t get lost, he said.

Oikawa smiled at him wordlessly—and he just knew what that meant. When the time comes, you have to let me go.

That night, Oikawa said his farewell and he woke up in the morning in tears, knowing it wasn’t a dream. When he tried calling Oikawa, he didn’t pick up.

He never picked up again.

---

The thing Hajime knew even before is that you don’t ever move on from the pain of a loss—you just learn to live on until the pain becomes a constant, bearable thing that makes you numb.

It took years and miles for Hajime, but one day, he just stopped.

He stopped trying to look for pieces of him left in the small corners of his room.

He stopped scanning his face in a crowded place because he knew what he will see is not him, but a broken fragment of his memory.

He stopped listening to songs that they used to listen to together when they drive somewhere.  

He stopped watching those tacky old alien films he would find on television because he hated those anyway.

He stopped looking at the stars—stopped mapping out his profile in those tiny little dots in the night sky when he couldn’t even remember his face anymore.

But he never stopped loving him. He will never stop loving him.

One day, he might find himself wanting to try again, loving someone else… but he just knew it will never be as good as the one he had with him.

How do you let go of your soulmate? The answer was very clear—You don’t.

+++