Archive of Our Own

heian period, 816

"Shinnou-denka."

Iwaizumi can hear the nighttime orchestra of crickets and cicadas beyond the window as he opens Oikawa's door after hearing come in. It's a cool summer night and the breeze teases volume in the curtains, billowing fluidly with the wind. It's only when the door closes that Oikawa looks up, features illuminated softly by a flickering lamp on the table he's sitting at. His robes drape over his frame and Iwaizumi steadfastly keeps his eyes above his collarbones, sharp and prominent even through the silk. Iwaizumi's standing straight, shoulders square and back, feet together.

Oikawa smiles, tilts his head. "Please, you don't need to call me that when we're in private."

Iwaizumi closes his eyes and bows deeply at the waist.

"…Oikawa-sama. You wished to see me?"

Oikawa's smile persists and Iwaizumi keeps his expression neutral, watches the person he's sworn to protect forever approach him. Oikawa's set down his calligraphy pen and Iwaizumi's able to make out his elegant script on the parchment; it's no surprise that his writing is as beautiful as he is, Iwaizumi thinks. He's third-in-line for the throne, which he thinks is a shame; Oikawa would be an excellent emperor. He has the intelligence, he has the kindness, he has the loyalty, he has the pure heart, and, Oikawa has admitted once, he has the desire. But, Oikawa was quick to add, his brother has more of a penchant for politics, which is undoubtedly one of the most important qualities for the job.

He'd smiled. "Besides, this way I have more time to read and spend with you."

Oikawa's robes move like water around him as he walks; Iwaizumi knows it's partly due to the artisanship of the textiles, but there's also something so fluid about the way Oikawa carries himself. It's hard to not watch him because he's so effortlessly mesmerizing, but Iwaizumi keeps his eyes straight ahead, his expression steely. He's closer to Oikawa than most guards would be to a prince, but Iwaizumi's always cognizant of his place. Oikawa is kind and wonderful, Iwaizumi thinks, and for that, he has to protect him. He's strong on his own, but he's a member of the royal family; it's only expected that people will want him dead. As long as Iwaizumi is at his side, no harm will ever befall upon him.

"Need I a reason to see my guard?" Oikawa asks quietly and Iwaizumi stiffens because Oikawa's come to a stop in front of him and he's absolutely intoxicating.

"…No," he says quietly and drops his eyes. "I apologize."

"Ah, I was teasing," Oikawa says with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Please, Iwaizumi-san. Relax."

Iwaizumi doesn't relax and Oikawa continues with his lopsided smile. It's late, but it isn't all that unusual for him to be here. Not only is he Oikawa's personal guard, he's also on the night shift. He was standing outside when he heard Oikawa call his name, his voice quiet and low, smooth and easy and even through a heavyset door, chills ran down Iwaizumi's spine. He'd glanced down the hall; Hanamaki nodded when he caught Iwaizumi's eye and he turned to pull open the door to Oikawa's room.

For as long as Iwaizumi has been alive and by Oikawa's side, he's never heard him raise his voice. Oikawa has a presence that captivates when he's in a room and he's never needed to do anything in particular to garner attention, it's all given to him immediately, like moths to a flame, waves to the beach. He's the absolute epitome of a prince, Iwaizumi thinks; he's beautiful, he's regal, he's gentle, he's intelligent, he's kind—he's a little annoying, but that's okay—he's well-educated, he has an eye for the arts, he's able to hold a discussion with just about anyone. He looks at someone and they feel like the only person in the universe; Oikawa has the charisma that doesn't always coincide with a pure heart and the fact that they both exist in him renders Iwaizumi breathless at how the universe has allowed him to meet and serve him.

Oikawa even takes his time to teach Iwaizumi about things that a mere guard wouldn't have the privilege to learn about. During the day, aside from Oikawa's gentle jesting, their relationship is as one would expect between a prince and his guard and the only comments people make are Iwaizumi-san is truly loyal to the prince and the prince is only this relaxed around Iwaizumi-san. At night, Oikawa will sometimes ask Iwaizumi into his room; Iwaizumi doesn't make it a point to tell people and he knows Hanamaki wouldn't, but sometimes Hanamaki isn't the guard down the hall, so someone else will see him enter. The guards will occasionally tease him, but Iwaizumi never lets anything slip about his private meetings with Oikawa; not only is it a violation of Oikawa's trust but Iwaizumi can't help but be selfish and want to keep these memories to only Oikawa and himself.

They talk and they read and they discuss everything from breakfast to poetry to history to destiny to the bunnies in the garden. Iwaizumi's nervous at first because it's absolutely no secret, almost an expectation that he doesn't know as much as Oikawa does, but Oikawa is patient and explains things thoroughly. He answers the questions that Iwaizumi slowly becomes emboldened enough to ask and there have been times where the sun will rise in the middle of a conversation. Oikawa always tells Iwaizumi to go sleep, he'll come up with an excuse so nobody finds him missing for the morning.

In response, Iwaizumi always shakes his head. "If you're awake, then I'll be at your side."

Oikawa also teaches Iwaizumi how to play go; he immediately takes a liking to the game, despite not being very good at it. Iwaizumi doesn't tell Oikawa that he secretly practices on his own, whether against other guards or mentally in his head, but he has a feeling Oikawa knows. It takes him a while but one night, he's finally able to hold his own for a respectable amount of time; he loses, but he actually sees Oikawa's brow furrow, a sure sign that he's thinking. Iwaizumi can't help but smirk when this happens, though his expression falters and he immediately apologizes when Oikawa catches sight of it, but all he does is smile and it's a little brighter than usual.

"You're different tonight," Oikawa remarks; he folds his arms over his chest, the silk of his robes moving easily with him. He frowns. "Don't tell me… it's because I'm to be engaged in a few days?"

It's common knowledge that Oikawa will be engaged to wed Shimizu Kiyoko; it's been discussed since they were young, but by the end of the week, it will become official. They've never exchanged pleasantries, but Iwaizumi's met her when he accompanied Oikawa to meetings between their families. She's lovely and a wonderful match for him, Iwaizumi thinks. She's known throughout the nation to be beautiful, intelligent, and kind. They'll be perfect together.

"No," Iwaizumi says quietly, keeps his eyes downcast.

Oikawa is a prince and Iwaizumi is a guard; not only that, they're both men and no matter just how much Iwaizumi feels for him, he's always known it wouldn't come to anything. The length to which Iwaizumi will go to lay down his life for Oikawa goes beyond the expectations of a guard. It spans the entire universe because only a breadth that wide might be enough to start describing what he feels for Oikawa. All he wants is to be by his side, protect him until his last breath, do everything he can to make him happy.

Iwaizumi finally looks up and his shoulders relax just the tiniest bit with his next exhale.

"You two will be very happy together."

Oikawa gazes at him evenly for a while and then smiles faintly; he doesn't say anything, but everything unspoken shines in his eyes. "I should sleep soon because we have an early start tomorrow," he says finally and Iwaizumi nods. "I'm aware you're not on duty tomorrow, but please stop by if you're available. We'll only have so many nights alone before I'm wed."

Iwaizumi nods. "Of course."

Oikawa smiles again. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to do tomorrow?"

"Whatever you would like, Oikawa-sama."

Oikawa hums; Iwaizumi will admit that he's usually a little less stiff with him when they're alone in his room together, but there's a part of his heart that he can't stop from aching. Because even if he's known that Oikawa would never be his, it doesn't make it easier to know that he'll officially be someone else's soon; he's always been told that he wears his heart on his sleeve and based on the way Oikawa's looking at him right now, there's no doubt in Iwaizumi's mind that he figured it out a long, long time ago.

He doesn't mind, he thinks. He doesn't have any secrets from Oikawa; everything about Iwaizumi is absolutely for him.

"I'll let you leave then, Iwaizumi-san," Oikawa murmurs and Iwaizumi gives another nod. He steps back so that he's able to bow, but only one foot has moved when he hears Oikawa's voice again.

"But one more thing…"

Oikawa leans in; Iwaizumi can't stop the surprise from flittering through his features, leaves his eyes wide while Oikawa's are half-lidded. Slender, soft fingers graze over Iwaizumi's jaw at the same time their lips brush against each other and Iwaizumi's breath catches in his throat; he gasps softly, a sharp inhale of breath that Oikawa seems to smile at. In contrast, Oikawa gives a hot, breathy laugh when he pulls back, though he lingers at the corner of his mouth for a moment. "Maybe in another life, Hajime," he says quietly, gazing at him seriously, and Iwaizumi swallows thickly.

His hands are shaking and clenching them doesn't help. Iwaizumi's reverent of Oikawa and even when he'll quietly and dryly make comments that Oikawa laughs at, he's still careful to remember the boundary between them.

But the boundary feels like it's gone for just a moment and he looks up at him, no longer as a guard at his prince, but as a person so atrociously in love with someone he can never have. When their gazes meet, Iwaizumi thinks all the wanting and longing he's felt for years is reflected in Oikawa's eyes and his heart feels like it may burst. He takes a deep breath and when he exhales, the sigh takes with it his nerves and all that's left in his heart is resignation and acceptance that weighs it down to the bottom of his ribs. He loves him, he always has and he always will, and it's a love that he knows transcends just this life.

"…Maybe," he agrees, his voice so quiet he thinks the whisper might be lost before Oikawa hears it. Oikawa smiles again and Iwaizumi takes his leave after another deep bow.

He wakes up early the next morning to accompany Oikawa to his meetings and then joins him at night to play go and discuss literature as they always do. They never bring up the kiss again and Iwaizumi pretends he isn't counting down to the days when Oikawa's engaged. Once Oikawa's married, their nightly rendezvouses stop and all he has left are fleeting glances and stolen smiles during the day.

The ghost of Oikawa's lips on his haunts him for the rest of his life.

kamakura period, 1187

Oikawa poses a question one day.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

They're sitting by the river and Oikawa's known Iwaizumi since before they could walk, but even then, they've only been friends for seven years. Given that they're seven years old, it's all they can do, but it's still only seven years, Oikawa thinks, and they have a lot more years of being friends left.

He can't wait for them.

Iwaizumi's father is a samurai, a still relatively newly risen class, and Oikawa's is a scholar; they'll soon be following different paths in life, but this isn't something that seven-year-old children think about. All they think about is where to play and today's chosen location is the river, where there are rocks for them to skip and mud to draw in and tall grasses to pick and use as swords. It's a slightly gloomy day, but Oikawa doesn't mind. Even if it's storming, as long as he's with Iwaizumi, he'll be able to smile.

Iwaizumi picks up a stick, starts drawing in the mud. "Dunno. What's that?"

Oikawa smiles. "Father told me about them!" he says, picking up two pebbles and presses them into the circle. "There's a red string of fate tied from your thumb to your soulmate. Thumbs for boys, pinkies for girls!"

Iwaizumi blinks and looks at his hand. Oikawa swears he can hear what he's thinking: there's no red string. "…Uh…"

"Don't worry, it's invisible," Oikawa reassures and Iwaizumi seems relieved to hear that. Oikawa watches for a moment longer before he crouches next to Iwaizumi; pulling a red string he's brought from home out of his pocket, he gently takes Iwaizumi's free hand. When Iwaizumi looks over and sees the string, he blinks but offers his thumb; Oikawa's smiling as he ties one end to him, then asks for him to do the same. Iwaizumi nods and drops the stick in favor of this and Oikawa's smile grows until Iwaizumi's finished and his smile is almost too big for his face.

"Do you wanna be my soulmate?" Oikawa asks.

"…Can we choose?"

Oikawa doesn't actually know and he's not about to leave something so important up to fate. "Father didn't say we couldn't!" he says and it's not a lie.

Iwaizumi stares at the string; it's tied on his left thumb and on Oikawa's right. Oikawa's already thinking about how this might make playing harder, especially if they want to chase each other, but he doesn't mind. He'd prefer being close to Iwaizumi, anyway.

"Okay," Iwaizumi agrees and Oikawa beams.

"Then let's be soulmates."

nanboku-cho period, 1378

"Iwaizumi-san, would you like some help in levying taxes?"

Iwaizumi's eyes narrow. "Why would I need help?!"

"You seem like the sort of person who needs help on various matters and I happen to be quite good at them."

"Which matters?" Iwaizumi challenges.

Oikawa smirks. "All of them," he answers and Iwaizumi scoffs.

Oikawa laughs; he doesn't need to turn around to know that their guards are sighing. He and Iwaizumi both reside at the capital, as most shugo do; on occasion they'll visit their respective provinces and, because they're next to each other, Iwaizumi and Oikawa often make the trip together. Oikawa doesn't actually mind the trip alone; Matsukawa can be good company, but it's more fun with Iwaizumi and only he can make a week-long trip by carriage feel like significantly less.

They're on one such journey right now. It's been a few days and Oikawa has grown restless; he asks Iwaizumi if he minds stopping so they can stretch their legs and let the horses rest. He has no objections, so they pull to a stop and Oikawa waits expectantly for Iwaizumi to walk with him. He looks vaguely annoyed—he'd been in the middle of reading something, Oikawa remembers—but he doesn't put up a fight and soon joins him.

Oikawa's found that despite whatever expression Iwaizumi is making, he tends to do what he wants fairly often.

There's a heavy load of responsibility that comes with being a shugo; Oikawa's well-trained in the duties, but being good at something doesn't always translate to enjoying it. Political and economic matters fill his daily schedule and Oikawa knows his way around them, but he'd much rather spend his time elsewhere and not being constantly handed a letter because there's another emergency, the clans are upset again, or there's a missing donkey.

However, he's been personally appointed to this position by the shogun and he won't waste the opportunity that he knows many people would do anything for. Having Iwaizumi Hajime as the shugo of the neighboring province is an added bonus; it gives him an excuse to continue to talk to the man who'd immediately caught his eye in the capital.

Oikawa's not a scholar, but he's familiar in the arts and literature and thinks that it can't be a coincidence that someone he can't remember meeting feels familiar anyway.

"Have you heard the rumors?" Oikawa asks and then he lowers his voice a bit; his strides start growing longer and Iwaizumi wordlessly follows suit without so much as a questioning glance. They're not far enough from their guards for them to be suspicious, but they're far enough that Oikawa feels like he can speak without fearing them eavesdropping; he's got faith in Matsukawa but as much as he trusts Iwaizumi, he can't quite extend that to his people.

Iwaizumi's kind; he's much kinder than Oikawa, even if he seems to be rough and rugged around the edges, and Oikawa worries his kindness will be taken advantage of. He won't admit it, but it's another reason he likes to spend time with him; Oikawa's always considered himself to be a fair judge of character and he likes to make sure that Iwaizumi is surrounded by good people. It's not his place, he knows, but matters of the heart hardly care for technicalities.

Another reason he enjoys traveling with Iwaizumi is because it's one of the few times where they can relax. If they're in the presence of other lords, they'll address each other by their proper titles; however, in private with only their guards to overhear, they're able address each other familiarly, a silent acknowledgement of how their relationship extends beyond one of professionalism. Nobody needs to know how close they are, Oikawa thinks, it'll undoubtedly be used against them and the last thing Oikawa wants is for any sort of misfortune to befall Iwaizumi.

"Some shugodai are taking powers from the shugo. It's still fairly uncommon, but should this continue, there would be some unrest."

Iwaizumi doesn't say anything at first. He stops suddenly and looks over his shoulder, focuses his gaze on their guards. Iwaizumi's default expression isn't the most inviting and tends to ward most people off, but when he's conscious of it, there's so much concentrated in his features that Iwaizumi immediately commands respect and attention. "Leave us," he says flatly.

Matsukawa and Kyoutani glance at each other. "…Iwaizumi-dono—"

"Please wait for us back at the carriages. We won't be long."

They hesitate but when Iwaizumi glares, they nod and scuttle off. Oikawa gives an amused smile as Iwaizumi waits for them to be out of earshot. "My, Iwaizumi—"

"Are you worried for any particular reason?" Iwaizumi interrupts, brow knitting and Oikawa blinks in surprise. "Is there anything I can do to keep you safe?"

Oikawa's still staring; his lips split into a grin and his heart feels warm as he steps closer and very briefly takes Iwaizumi's hand in his, trusts the long sleeves of their robes to hide the contact. The touch is short lived, but the sensation linger, jolts still running up and down his arm. "I'm…" he shakes his head with a small laugh. "No, I'm not in any kind of danger. They're just rumors I've been hearing; I'm gossiping, actually, so please, don't take this so seriously—"

"If you think you're in any kind of danger," Iwaizumi says, voice low, "let me know immediately. I'll do whatever I can for you."

Oikawa's breath catches in his throat; even though he feels the wind continue to whisper over his skin and hears the birds continue to sing in the background, it's like everything has stopped, and the only thing that matters is the way Iwaizumi is looking at him so seriously, so sternly. He relaxes with a sigh after a few more blinks; Oikawa takes another step closer still and reaches out for Iwaizumi's hand again. A few fingers twine and this time he doesn't pull back immediately, though hearing one of their horses whine has him stepping back, loss of contact mitigated by the memory of it.

He's still smiling as he nods. "Okay," he promises quietly. "The same goes for you. You're kind, so I worry someone will take advantage of your naivety."

"I'll be fine," Iwaizumi shakes his head. "Kyoutani-san's about as loyal as you're annoying."

Oikawa frowns a little and they begin to walk back towards the carriages, the distance between them smaller than before. "I'm annoying?"

"The absolute worst."

Oikawa huffs. "Bold words, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi's nose wrinkles, but he doesn't establish any annoyance for the nickname and the next time Oikawa uses it when they're alone, Iwaizumi even smiles as he presses a kiss to Oikawa's collarbone.

sengoku period, 1467

"We're leaving tomorrow as well."

"You're heading south, correct?"

A nod. "Yes, we have family there. Your family is in the north, if I recall."

The other woman reciprocates the nod and sighs slowly. She absentmindedly reaches up a hand, dancing her fingers along her perfectly done-up chestnut-brown hair while looking over to see their sons playing happily in the garden. Children always get along, but Iwaizumi and Oikawa seem to gravitate towards each other the way the sun and the moon do; from the moment they first met each other when they were still learning to crawl, they've been inseparable. She's always found it adorable and marvels at how they seem so in tune with each other and she manages to say that without a mother's bias.

It breaks her heart to separate them; it'll be years before they'll understand why and for now, all they'll know is that they've lost each other.

"I hope you'll stay safe."

She looks over, sees a gentle smile lining the other's lips and she returns the expression, though she knows she can't rid all the anxiety quelling her features. "Please also stay safe."

Reaching her hands over the small table they've chosen to have tea at for the last time, she clasps her hands tightly. She feels a squeeze in return but it does little to reassure her. The question of the shogun's succession has left the nation in a precarious state; for the longest time, it hasn't been a question of if but when and now there is no question. The best they can do is get as far away as they can, but unfortunately in their case, they'll be at opposite ends of the nation.

"It's so unfair that their childhoods are going to be stolen away by war. I wish we didn't have to separate them," she murmurs and shakes her head. "Perhaps after the war…"

Her voice trails off and they both know why; the nation is on the precipice of a civil war of unprecedented magnitude. Thinking of the after is mostly a matter of survival; there's no space to hope for reunions when all hope is concentrated on their lives and the lives of their loved ones to remain in this realm.

Iwaizumi's mother smiles, squeezes her hands again.

"…Perhaps they'll find each other in another life."

nanban trade period, 1601

"Look, look!"

"I'm looking, stop poking me!"

Two teenagers hide behind crates, fingers curled over the splintering wood to peer at a large, multi-decked sailing ship. These ships have become commonplace at the docks, and yet Iwaizumi and Oikawa still marvel at the grandeur. They watch men come down the pathway, holding boxes of items that only the upper echelons of society are able to be privy to; all Iwaizumi and Oikawa are capable of are stolen glances to fuel their imaginations.

Iwaizumi's known Oikawa since they were kids; their moms are friends and they're only a month apart, so they start playing together before they're even able to form memories. Oikawa's the one who proposes they watch the boats unload; Iwaizumi agrees because on that day, there hadn't been very much else to do and it quickly becomes one of their favorite pastimes.

They wonder what's in the boxes, because even the people bringing them off of the ship look so unfamiliar. Their clothes are so different; these people are from somewhere called Portugal, Iwaizumi hears, and he tells this to Oikawa, who also doesn't exactly know what to make do with this information. He's heard they're opening schools and though he and Oikawa don't attend them, they manage to learn about some of the things other kids are learning there.

They bring art, silks, sugar, guns, gold, wool; these are all things that neither Iwaizumi nor Oikawa are exactly able to obtain to examine, but try to catch sneak peeks of them anyway. There's a whole world out there, Iwaizumi thinks, and if they could get on the boat and sail out, there's so much for them to explore. He wonders what else is out there; besides Portugal, what other places are there? What other goods? The possibilities are limitless, he thinks, and that's terrifying—and exciting.

He looks over, sees Oikawa's eyes wide and staring. "Look, look, Iwa-chan! Porcelain! My sister would break that…"

"And that's why it's not going to you."

"Mean…!"

Oikawa huffs. Iwaizumi smirks and he goes back to watching them bring yet another box off the boat, this one filled with art; it's strange, he thinks, he's never seen art like that. He isn't very familiar with art in general, but he thinks their art is definitely better. It's weird and this is one of the boxes that Iwaizumi's less fascinated by.

"Wish we could leave with them…" he hears and looks over to see Oikawa frowning, lips pushed out in a pout. "Because all that stuff, they've got to have even more back home, right? It's so cool…"

Iwaizumi huffs. He turns and sits down so his back is to the boxes and folds his arms over his chest. He crosses his legs at the ankles, knees a good distance from the ground and fixes his gaze on some old netting laying a few meters away. "Yeah. Well, I guess we're stuck here for now."

Oikawa mirrors his position, but he hugs his knees to his chest and peers at him. The stench of the sea is strong; Iwaizumi doesn't have to look to know that the fishermen have brought in their catch for the day. "For now?" he echoes.

Iwaizumi looks over and smirks, tilts his head. "Yeah. I mean, you're the one who never shuts up about reincarnation, how in your next life you're going to do all this stuff. So, in our next life, we'll explore together. We just have to find each other again."

He holds out his pinky. "Okay?"

Oikawa stares at him for a few moments and then he grins, cheeks pink as he hooks his pinky with Iwaizumi's, whose smirk widens.

"Okay!"

edo period, 1742

Social order is everything.

Iwaizumi knows this. It's been burned into his mind since he was a child, the strict social stratification of their society. He's fortunate to be in the samurai class and as part of that class, he has a high moral example to set for the other three classes. His father tells him this constantly and Iwaizumi takes it seriously; this is his place in a society where divisions are meant for a reason and he's imbued with a social responsibility.

He spends a large part of his time at home and his days are filled with maintaining his fighting skills and studying. His father is in the military and in a few years, Iwaizumi will be as well; these are his last years of as much freedom as their society will allow for and even though Iwaizumi understands his responsibilities, there are some things that his heart wins out on.

"You can read, right?" the voice comes and Iwaizumi nods. "Can you read this to me? Please?"

Iwaizumi vaguely remembers meeting Oikawa Tooru when they were kids. He's nineteen now and Oikawa is as well, but when they were about six or so, he'd met him at the same riverbank they're at now. Iwaizumi had snuck out of his house that day to run around; he hasn't had much of a chance to explore the city he's lived in his whole life and also hasn't met many other kids his age, so when he meets Oikawa, it's before he knows about classes and stratification and prestige. All he sees is a kid his age, and he asks if he wants to play.

He says okay and grins.

They play only a few times before Iwaizumi stops being able to sneak out but when Iwaizumi sees Oikawa almost a decade later, he recognizes him almost immediately. He's got the same hair, the same skin, the same freckle on his collarbone, but what Iwaizumi sees and remembers so clearly is the twinkle in his eye and the way he smiles. Oikawa had stared at him and Iwaizumi could tell that it also only takes him a few seconds to place him in his memory. He smiles—it's a little more demure, more shy, undoubtedly because as they've grown up, they've learned about social standings—so Iwaizumi's the one to approach him and when Oikawa smiles that smile from childhood, Iwaizumi's chest feels warm.

"You can't?" Iwaizumi asks with a small frown; he doesn't mean it as an insult and trusts that Oikawa's aware of his intentions, but he's genuinely surprised. He's not sure where Oikawa's procured the book he's been handed, but it's not terribly advanced or complicated; it's something he would've been reading when he was still a kid.

He blinks, remembers that while samurai are expected and taught to appreciate the arts and literature, artisans are generally only expected to achieve basic literacy and immediately feels a flush creeping up the back of his neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay. No," Oikawa admits sheepishly with a small smile. "I can read a little, but not enough to be able to understand that. One of my parents' friends gave it to me."

Iwaizumi nods and flips through the book; it's a collection of simple poems, he notes, and shifts to be more comfortable against the tree. His interactions with Oikawa are usually fleeting; during the day, he'll see him if he's out in town to buy some goods and has made it a habit to always buy what he can from Oikawa. They don't go out of their way to be overly familiar, but they also don't leave it a secret they know each other; Iwaizumi's been chastised about this before, about being too friendly with an artisan, but he doesn't care. He's known Oikawa since before he's known what it means to be in different classes and while Iwaizumi wants to uphold his duty to society, he doesn't think it should come at the cost of neglecting his only friend.

They meet about one night a week and Iwaizumi's not sure when this became an unspoken rule; there have only been a handful of times over the last few years where one of them has missed the rendezvous, and they always have a good reason when they see each other next.

"I'll teach you," Iwaizumi says and Oikawa blinks in surprise. Iwaizumi smiles slightly. "It's not that hard, and you'll pick it up. You want to?"

"Really?" Oikawa asks and Iwaizumi's smile widens to see the way his eyes sparkle. "If you don't mind, of course!"

So Iwaizumi starts teaching Oikawa how to read.

He's not sure how good he is at teaching; he's never had to before and he manages to slip some of his favorite books from home, nods when Oikawa asks if he's sure it's okay that he keeps them. They meet for hours at a time at night, sitting quietly by the river, shoes kicked off and feet submerged in the water. If it's raining, they'll go to Oikawa's residence; Iwaizumi has no qualms about bringing Oikawa to his home, but he seems to be hesitant, and Iwaizumi doesn't push it.

"You're actually a good teacher, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says one night. Iwaizumi can't even remember when the nickname started, but he can't say he minds it. It takes a few times for Iwaizumi to realize Oikawa is actually calling him that and it's not his ears playing tricks on him; he stares at him once it's confirmed and when Oikawa laughs, asks if he should stop, Iwaizumi surprises them both by mumbling no.

"Actually…?" Iwaizumi echoes with a frown and glares lightly. Oikawa laughs again and he shifts; their shoulders brush and Iwaizumi's heart skips a beat. He moves again and Iwaizumi frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Oikawa murmurs, wrinkles his nose. "Just a little cold. What's this word?"

"Esoterically," Iwaizumi answers. He hesitates for a moment before moving forward; the movement has Oikawa pulling away and Iwaizumi's quick in shedding his outer layer kimono and drapes it over both of their shoulders. His cheeks are red—they are absolutely scarlet—but he sternly focuses his gaze on the book in Oikawa's lap instead of meeting his eye. "…Keep going, you're doing well."

But Oikawa doesn't keep going. He's pressed a finger to the word esoterically and is no longer looking at the page. "Iwa-chan," he instead says, voice delicate.

"…What," Iwaizumi returns, voice monotone.

"May I inquire what it is you are doing?"

Iwaizumi seriously considers saying no because that is technically one of the choices, but knows Oikawa would not receive that answer well. He heaves a sigh and clears his throat. "…You said you were cold," he mumbles. "I wasn't just going to let you be cold."

He doesn't hear anything at first and feels his heart sinking, terrified that Oikawa's going to want to stop seeing him because maybe it's weird to do what he just did; he hasn't realized just how much he looks forward to their weekly meetings until he'd had to skip one a few weeks ago. By now, they've got their routine down and if they don't show up within ten minutes, they leave. However, the guilt gnaws at him and he's also disappointed; to make up for it the next week, he found a book that he really thinks Oikawa will enjoy and seeing the way Oikawa's face lights up is more satisfying than managing to disarm his instructor.

"Thank you, Iwa-chan," he hears instead. Iwaizumi smiles; he turns his head a bit to be able to look at the book again and that's when he feels Oikawa's lips press to the corner of his mouth.

His breath hitches; he'll later realize that Oikawa had meant to just kiss his cheek, which is already daring enough, given they're two men sitting outside. But his head jerks to look at him and Oikawa looks just as taken back; his cheeks are rosier than normal and his eyes are wide, but suddenly Iwaizumi finds himself wondering if he's always been this pretty when bathed in moonlight.

"S-sorry, I—"

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" Iwaizumi's words are flying out of his mouth before his brain has a moment to register what he's saying; Oikawa's eyes grow even wider and Iwaizumi makes sure to wait until he sees a nod before he leans in and kisses him.

He wants to make sure that Oikawa wants to kiss him too and that he doesn't feel pressured; when they're together, Iwaizumi's not thinking about the difference in their classes, even if that's what's been drilled into him since he was a kid. He doesn't care about hierarchies or social orders or classes when he's with Oikawa, because all he cares about is Oikawa, the only person he's never felt pressure to live up to an expectation around. All he cares about is being with him, making him happy, and, at this moment, feeling Oikawa's lips against him.

Iwaizumi hasn't kissed anyone before; he doesn't exactly have a frame of reference and relies on his instinct instead. A hand tentatively comes up to tangle in Oikawa's hair to hold him close and when Oikawa sighs at the touch, it emboldens him. He relaxes and tilts his head, feels Oikawa's tongue run across his bottom lip. Iwaizumi's mouth parts reflexively and then Oikawa's tongue is inside his mouth and Iwaizumi doesn't know how to feel or what to do, but, he thinks, he doesn't not like it.

The book's slid out of Oikawa's lap because both of his hands are now grasping Iwaizumi's inner kimono, pulling him close. He wonders if Oikawa can tell how fast his heart's beating; it takes everything for Iwaizumi to hold himself together because even if he doesn't really know what he's doing, he knows he wants to do more of it. He kisses him harder, brow knitting, and Oikawa's reciprocating when the sudden sound of some leaves rustling has them pulling back immediately.

Iwaizumi's response is reflexive; he's used the kimono draped over them to cover Oikawa entirely because he doesn't know what someone would be more aghast at: the fact they're both men or that he's a samurai and Oikawa's an artisan. But he's relieved to see that it's just some birds flying through the trees; Iwaizumi gives a sigh of relief as he tells Oikawa this, lowers the kimono from him.

"Sorry for doing that," Iwaizumi says, looking back at Oikawa and noting his slightly swollen lips. "I wanted to make sure you wouldn't get in trouble."

"It's okay," Oikawa answers and his voice is a little husky, which leaves Iwaizumi even more breathless. His eyes are on Iwaizumi searchingly and even though it's unnervingly terrifying, Iwaizumi can't look away from him.

"Was…" Iwaizumi hesitates and blushes. "Was the other thing okay? The k-kiss?"

"Yeah," Oikawa answers and he's smiling this time. He brings a hand up to cup Iwaizumi's face and brushes his thumb over his likely equally swollen lips. "Yeah, it was more than okay, Iwa-chan."

"I don't want you to feel like you're pressured or anything," Iwaizumi continues, brow knitting. "If you didn't want that—I don't know what would happen if anyone found out—"

Oikawa's shaking his head and he leans in, intentionally leaves a kiss to the corner of his mouth this time. "I don't care about that. I like you, Iwa-chan. Whatever happens would be worth it."

"Don't say that," Iwaizumi says a bit quicker than he meant; hoping to convey that he hadn't meant it in an angry way, he cups Oikawa's face with both his hands, looks at him so earnestly. "I-I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. Nothing bad will ever happen to you, if I can help it."

Oikawa looks at him and Iwaizumi can see the way his eyes move as he's gazing at him with a universe hidden behind them; when he inhales, it's shaky, and Oikawa's face between his hands is the only thing that grounds him.

"…Spoken like a true samurai, Iwa-chan."

meiji period, 1876

"Iwa-chan… I'm bored."

"How is that my problem? And stop calling me that."

Oikawa pouts. Iwaizumi Hajime is the son of a baron and even though that's technically a few ranks below his father's title of marquis, Iwaizumi certainly doesn't show him the respect that Oikawa, honestly, thinks he deserves. Their parents are having a cup of tea together to become more acquainted; Oikawa doesn't have much interest in their political shenanigans and plans on avoiding his preordained destiny as long as he possibly can.

He's managed to slip away from an afternoon of English tea and biscuits—he's not entirely convinced yet of the Victorian taste permeating the upper classes of society—by saying he'd like to show Iwaizumi around their estate. Iwaizumi had appeared to be impassive at this suggestion but played along with the plan they hadn't discussed beforehand, which Oikawa was secretly pleased with.

However, Iwaizumi Hajime is a bit of a buzzkill.

"Tell me about yourself, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, adjusting his position in the chair so he's facing him. "How is it, being a baron-to-be?"

"Fine."

"…"

"…"

"…Ah… good thing you were born into it, because I don't think anybody would be bestowing the title on you otherwise…"

"You-!"

"There we go," Oikawa grins cheekily and Iwaizumi looks befuddled. He rests an elbow on the armrest and presses his chin to his palm. "Iwa-chan was acting weird and uptight. Let's be friends, yeah? We're probably going to have to be seeing each other a lot because of our parents."

Iwaizumi frowns. Oikawa's wondering if he's about to go back to his stiff, boring demeanor when he reaches a hand up and loosens his tie with a sigh, not quite meeting Oikawa's eye. Oikawa smiles and pulls back to mirror his movements. "Yeah, I don't like them either. Normally I'd be wearing a kimono since I'm at home, but because Iwa-chan's family is here…"

Iwaizumi scowls, throws a glare that Oikawa deflects with a smile. When his tie's loosened, he undoes the top couple buttons of his shirt and Oikawa can't help but linger his eyes on the newly exposed skin. "Yeah, they're annoying."

Oikawa watches him for a while; he's never met Iwaizumi Hajime before, hadn't even seen him in a photograph until he walked past the threshold of their door today. And yet, as soon as Oikawa saw him, a sense of familiarity washed over him, and he searched his memory for the name Iwaizumi. Was it an old friend? A schoolmate? A long-lost cousin? Something about his strong set jaw, the freckle by the corner of his mouth, his dark eyes were so reminiscent of someone Oikawa swears he knew a long time ago.

"What're you looking at?" Iwaizumi grumbles.

Oikawa tilts his head.

"…Have you ever met someone and it feels like you know them, even when you haven't met?"

Iwaizumi's frown deepens. "…What? The hell are you talking about?"

Oikawa blinks and then he smiles, shaking his head. "Never mind! Iwa-chan doesn't have the extensive critical thinking needed to understand, anyway. So, do you want to play something? We could play go, if Iwa-chan knows how."

"Of course I know how, asshole," Iwaizumi grumbles and nods.

They spend the afternoon playing go and even though Iwaizumi loses all three games, Oikawa's pleased that he puts up the best fight he's come across, aside from his own father.

"Iwa-chan must've had a good mentor in the past," Oikawa says and Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes.

"Shut up. Let's go again."

taisho period, 1919

Oikawa's seen him before, but he's never seen him.

Oikawa Tooru is twenty-one years old, and he already knows that he's going to be an investigative journalist after college. It's all about finding the scoop and reporting the truth, spreading vital information to everyone. It's about making a change and keeping everyone informed. It's about making a difference in the world, a positive difference, and leaving a legacy that goes beyond just his life.

He's good at it too; he's charming and knows that he is objectively good looking, which he'll use to his advantage when a source is being a little stingy. It might not be the cleanest of reporting tactics but, Oikawa thinks, it's a far cry from some actually sleazy tactics. He's using his charisma, there's nothing wrong with that. It's not like he's bribing anyone or covering up the truth because Oikawa is many things, depending on who's asked for their opinion on him, but his one constant is that he's honorable.

Mostly constant, anyway.

He's at today's protest with a dual purpose and one is to, well, protest. It's a tumultuous time in politics; power is shifting away from the old oligarchical group to a more democratic system, a result of continuous Western influence. However, there are still remnants of the old system and today's peaceful gathering is for universal suffrage and dismantling the old political party network. So, Oikawa's first and foremost purpose being here is to show his support and his second purpose is to report on it.

Raising his camera, he presses the shutter; there's a small, familiar click and flash. Oikawa's lowered his camera to prepare for the second shot when a few students moving aside reveal a face that catches his immediate attention; it's a face he's seen before, but he's never seen.

It takes him a minute to remember his name and Oikawa's stunned still for a second; he can't explain it, he recognizes him from one of his lectures, but his first instinct isn't that he's seen this person a few days ago in class. His first instinct is that he's seen him years and years ago, in a different period, in a different time altogether; he's someone who feels so familiar—but currently a stranger.

He's around Oikawa's age, he knows that much for sure. He has dark eyes that seem to be permanently set in a scowl and a strong jaw with a freckle by the corner of his mouth. His skin is tan and smooth and Oikawa's eyes naturally find their way to his neck, watches the way his Adam's apple moves as he's chanting, finally resting on his sharp collarbones, just barely visible through his opened collar.

Oikawa's seen him a few times in one of his lectures—chemistry, he thinks, because even if he's a journalism student, he has a fondness for the sciences. He hesitates and then raises the camera and takes a picture.

And then he looks at him. Iwaizumi Hajime looks directly at him.

Oikawa thanks the heavens that he's made a name for himself as the investigative journalist that nobody requested the presence of, but is always there. He's fairly used to people looking at him with recognition; it just so happens this is the first time that Oikawa's heart skips a beat.

Iwaizumi's still staring at him, and Oikawa thinks that he might go back to protesting, when he does the unthinkable:

He walks up to Oikawa.

"Hey."

…?!

"Hi," Oikawa manages with a smile. "Sorry, did you not want your picture taken?"

"No, that's fine," Iwaizumi shakes his head, and Oikawa's eyes are on his Adam's apple and his collarbones—it shouldn't be allowed, he thinks, to be displaying collarbones like that. He should really button up his collar. Maybe Oikawa should do it for him.

Or, he thinks, maybe not. That might be strange.

"You're in my chemistry lecture, right?" Iwaizumi continues and Oikawa smiles, nods. "Thought you looked familiar."

"So you noticed me in lecture?" Oikawa returns sweetly; his smile widens to see Iwaizumi's eyes widen and his cheeks flush slightly. He scoffs, clears his throat. Cute, Oikawa thinks.

"Are you here to protest or just report on it? Your articles in the school paper are pretty good," he adds and Oikawa lights up.

"You've read them?"

Iwaizumi shifts his weight, shrugs and rubs his nose; he's looking away and Oikawa watches a blush creep to the tips of his ears. "Yeah. Like I said, they're good articles."

If Oikawa hadn't been sure of Iwaizumi before, he certainly is now. His articles tend to be polarizing; he reports on serious issues, even if doing the fun little fluff pieces would be safer and still give him exposure. If Iwaizumi likes them, then he thinks that he probably shares similar beliefs.

"I'm here to protest too."

Iwaizumi looks at him, gazes pointedly at his camera. "…Have you protested at all yet?"

"Well, Iwaizumi-san," Oikawa huffs indignantly. "I'm getting to it."

There's something about seeing a good-looking person advocating for the same beliefs, Oikawa thinks, that makes him even more good-looking. And, given how attractive Iwaizumi already is, that's an impressive feat.

Oikawa huffs, but he can't hide the smile that makes it apparent he's not mad at all. "Hand me a banner, will you, Iwaizumi-san? And then you can take me to dinner."

Iwaizumi smirks, but Oikawa's gleeful to note that he's reaching for a spare banner set to the side. "What makes you think I was going to ask you out?"

Oikawa laughs, accepts the banner and lets his camera hang around his neck. There are hundreds, maybe even a thousand, people here, some talking amongst themselves and some chanting. And yet, as soon as Iwaizumi had walked up to him, all of Oikawa's senses have tunneled in on him and Iwaizumi suddenly is all he can focus on and all he wants to focus on.

"Let's call it divine intervention or fate."

modern day, 2012

"I don't think it matters what life we're in, we'll always be destined to be with each other."

"…It's… just frozen yogurt, Oikawa."

Because Oikawa Tooru is the type of person to gaze adoringly at frozen yogurt.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at Oikawa's glare. "Besides, I don't think they had frozen yogurt back in, like, the Heian period. You can't be with something that hasn't been invented."

"Iwa-chan's just jealous that frozen yogurt might actually be my soulmate," Oikawa huffs and Iwaizumi watches him eat a mouthful of sesame frozen yogurt with gummy bears and sprinkles. Oikawa insists on frozen yogurt because it's allegedly healthier, but Iwaizumi wonders just how healthy it can be if he's layered that many sweets on top of it. Just looking at Oikawa's cup makes Iwaizuim's teeth hurt. "It's wonderful. It's life itself. It's absolutely divine. It's—"

"It's frozen yogurt, Oikawa."

Oikawa sticks his tongue out and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes; his cup is much simpler, it's just matcha with some mochi and red bean. He also begrudgingly realizes that his cup is much cheaper than Oikawa's when they're being weighed and this cannot be a coincidence, because it's his turn to pay today. Oikawa asks if he wants to head out and Iwaizumi nods; he finishes the last of his cup in one giant gulp that's causing a brain freeze Oikawa laughs at. Once they're out of the shop, Oikawa reaches out for Iwaizumi's hand and he laces their fingers together loosely.

Iwaizumi is in love with Oikawa and despite his constant surprise at his stroke of pure luck, Oikawa's in love with him too. Out of everyone he can have, Oikawa chooses him to be with and thinking this makes Iwaizumi shove his face into his pillow for a few seconds every morning before getting up to go about his day.

They started dating officially a few months ago, but Iwaizumi realizes that so little has changed and maybe it's because they've been acting like they're together for as long as he can remember. He isn't dating Oikawa because he wants to kiss him or have someone to hold hands with; they're nice additions, Iwaizumi manages to think without his face turning bright red, but he's with Oikawa because of how he makes him feel. Oikawa makes him feel brave and safe, supported and loved, trusted and trusting. If Oikawa's with him, Iwaizumi thinks that everything will be okay.

He's always felt this way, he thinks, he's always felt invincible if Oikawa's with him.

"Did you look at the itinerary I sent last night?" Oikawa asks as they cross a street.

"Yeah. Nerd," Iwaizumi says and Oikawa whines next to him. "It's good, I like it. I'll add some stuff I found and send it back tonight."

"We should book our flights soon, yeah? They'll just get more expensive if we wait too long."

"Yeah. This weekend?"

"Okay!"

They're going to travel the world together. The idea starts off as a road trip through Japan, but as they keep talking about it, Oikawa says that he wants to go overseas too; it's their last summer together before they part ways for college and he wants the ultimate trip experience with Iwaizumi. He agrees and when he asks what caused the sudden desire to go international, Oikawa had tilted his head and smiled.

"I'm not really sure. I just woke up one day and suddenly felt like it's something I've wanted to do for a long time."

Oikawa's swinging their hands lightly and they've taken a detour on the way home; they don't have a lot of homework to do and with the volleyball season having ended, the days are quiet and peaceful. Oikawa's led them through the park to the dock they often hang out at during the warmer months. They leave their backpacks and shoes on the grass and roll their pants up, take a seat on the slightly creaking wood and dip their feet into the cool water.

Oikawa's jabbering and Iwaizumi responds enough to keep him from complaining. He might seem annoyed, but Iwaizumi loves days like this, when they have nothing to do, all the time in the world, and each other. Oikawa shifts so that their shoulders brush and Iwaizumi rests his hand over his, grunts when he murmurs his name.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Iwa-chan?"

It's not as out of the blue a question as one may expect, for two reasons:

One, this is Oikawa.

Two, the text they're currently covering in literature class includes the red string of fate legend, where Iwaizumi learned that despite modern day interpretation showing the string being tied on the pinky, in the ancient Japanese myth, it had been tied around the thumb for boys and pinkies for girls.

"I dunno," he grumbles. "Who knows, right?"

"I like the concept," Oikawa says and he kicks his foot slightly, laughs when Iwaizumi recoils at the water that splashes to his calves. "It's romantic. Two people destined for each other by the universe? Maybe Iwa-chan's my soulmate," he teases and Iwaizumi scoffs.

"You mean I still gotta deal with you in the future, as if all the past iterations haven't been enough?"

"Don't be so mean, Iwa-chan! I'm a catch!"

This is normally when Iwaizumi would retort that Oikawa's a nuisance, he's annoying, he's a pain, he's stupid. But instead, he's overcome with something warm cresting in his chest and he looks over with a lopsided smile that only Oikawa gets to see, curls his fingers around Oikawa's palm. "…You are, actually."

The only thing rarer than when Iwaizumi's tender like this is when Oikawa's shocked into silence for several seconds. Iwaizumi can see the way he inhales sharply before he stops breathing for a few moments; his eyes widen and he swears even Oikawa's hair is tensing. Iwaizumi looks away because he's always going to feel embarrassed after saying things like that. He feels his cheeks ebb with a warmth and when Oikawa laughs quietly, bumps their shoulders together, he grumbles shut up.

"Well, I think soulmates are real," Oikawa continues. Iwaizumi glances over and Oikawa's looking at him, but not at his eyes; he's wondering why Oikawa's staring at his mouth when he feels him bring up his hand to brush his thumb over the freckle that Iwaizumi has there; Oikawa's always liked to kiss it, tease that he's heard freckles mark where soulmates have left kisses.

Iwaizumi plainly states he's never heard that in his entire life, but thinks it might not be a full coincidence that Oikawa has a freckle on his collarbone where Iwaizumi will absentmindedly leave kisses.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi asks quietly.

Oikawa's eyes flick up to meet his and he smiles.

"Yeah," Oikawa says softly, "I think Iwa-chan is mine."

And then Oikawa's leaning in to kiss him.

There's a familiarity in kissing Oikawa, even when they kiss for the first time; it's almost like Iwaizumi has memories of kissing someone from even before they've been born, which he thinks is ridiculous.

But Oikawa's mouth on his is such an intimate memory and it's almost a reflex, the way he knows how to move his lips against Oikawa's and how his hand comes up to cup his jaw. He'll never tire of this, he thinks, he could kiss Oikawa for the rest of his life and each kiss will feel both new and exciting, but warm and second-nature. The kiss remains slow and sweet and, Iwaizumi knew it, Oikawa's frozen yogurt is basically sugar with milk, but that doesn't deter him from continuing to lazily kiss him. It's only when he hears Oikawa moan quietly that he pulls back because, after all, they're still in public.

Iwaizumi's face is scarlet; he brings the back of his free hand to his lips and Oikawa laughs breathily. He feels the weight of his head on his shoulder after a few moments and Iwaizumi finds himself straightening to sit taller than he has the height for, just because he wants Oikawa to be comfortable. Oikawa's turned his hand around and their palms are pressed flush against each other, fingers laced and Iwaizumi's tracing circles around his knuckle longer than he consciously remembers doing so.

Everything with Oikawa has felt so familiar; they meet when they're literally in diapers and not even cognizant of themselves, but when they're older, he still feels something bloom in his chest when he looks at Oikawa. It's a nostalgia that runs deeper than their eighteen years of friendship together; he looks at Oikawa and swears he sees multiple lives that he has no memories of, just knows that when he lived them, Oikawa was there.

He can't explain it, but he knows what he feels and that's all he can trust.

He closes his eyes. "…Yeah," he says finally. "I think I do."

Oikawa raises his head and looks at him. "You do what?"

Iwaizumi casts his gaze over, smiles at someone who he feels like he's had a bond with that's outlasted even the planet they exist on. He's so lovely, Iwaizumi thinks, and that's something that he can't bring himself to admit out loud to Oikawa, but he thinks Oikawa is breathtakingly wonderful in every single way and he can't imagine a single life where he doesn't know him and doesn't love him and that, he thinks, might be a sign from the stars.

"I think I believe in soulmates," Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa blinks, then smiles warmly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi answers.

"…And I know that you're mine."