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Summary
When he saw Tooru quietly leave the gym, Iwaizumi knew he had to follow suit. He knew Kageyama wouldn't be able to handle facing them right now. It would be too much, like shaking a can of soda and not expecting it to spray when opened.
He couldn't afford to be a coward. No more.
They'd played a strenuous 3 set match, and logic would suggest that he try and conserve energy so he'd be able to play again soon. But the time for logic had long passed, and players from other teams whispered as they watched Seijoh's ace tear out of the gym and down hallways like a madman on fire. It wasn't long before he spotted Oikawa.
Standing right in front of Tobio, back against the wall.
Enough.
The last straw in Hajime snapped as his mouth snapped open, green eyes flashing as his tongue poised to spit out words that were right on its tip. Had been on its tip since that fateful first day.
But it seemed that Tobio had finally snapped as well.
"Genius, huh? That's where you've all gotten it wrong, because the thing is, I'm no fucking genius."
(Tags will change as the story progresses)