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It started when he was 15.
Oikawa ran to the bathroom, his chest hurting and tears rolling down his face. As he coughed, he looked at the petals falling out of his mouth in confusion. He picked one up, entranced by its bright yellow hue. Pretty, he thought absently, as his body was racked with coughs once again.
He looked up in surprise, when the door crashed open, the sound out of place in the tranquil night. Through teary eyes he saw his mother standing there, hair mussed from sleep and eyes alert, searching his body for signs of harm. She kneeled on the floor next to Oikawa, eyeing the yellow petals wearily. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as she ran a hand through Oikawa’s hair, heart clenching at the tears in his eyes.
‘I don’t know’, Oikawa says, voice trembling with the force of his tears. His mom picked up one of the petals, tracing a finger over its outline, ‘I just coughed these up.’ She pulled the boy close to her chest. ‘ Who can it be?’, she wondered, her heart heavy. Sighing, she rubbed a hand over Oikawa’s back, trying her best to comfort the confused boy.
‘Let’s get you back to bed, hmm?’
‘Okay, mom.’ came the watery response.
That night, Oikawa had a hard time sleeping, eyes trained on the glow-in-the-dark aliens and planets stuck to his ceiling, wondering what his Iwa-chan would say about this.
---
By the age of 17, Oikawa had learned that the petals he had coughed up were of Gerbera daisies and that he was dealing with something called the ‘ Hanahaki Disease’.
‘The Hanahaki Disease is one in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love’
Oikawa’s initial reaction was to laugh, head thrown back and eyes closed. ‘Mom, you’re killing me. Me? Love? Hilarious!’ His mom sighed, eyebrows furrowed at her son’s nonchalance. ‘Think about it love, is there anyone you like? Perhaps, a best friend whom you’ve known your whole life?’
Oikawa’s eyes grew wide at that, his easy smile disappearing. ‘I don’t like Iwa-chan, Mom, he’s my best friend. It’s not like that’
Oikawa resolutely ignored the way his heart skipped a beat every time Hajime held his hand as he dragged him away from the gym while scolding him for over-doing serving practice. He ignored the way his heart raced every time Hajime ruffled his hair and called him Shittykawa. He ignored the way his heart grew fond every time he thought of Hajime’s fond smile as he joked around with Makki and Mattsun.
Oikawa’s reverie was interrupted by a loud shout at the front door. ‘Hurry up, Shittykawa! Or we’ll be late for practice.’
Oikawa’s mom smiled at that. ‘He’s always around, huh?’
‘Yeah,’ Oikawa said, his smile returning, ‘Always.’
---
When he was 18, Oikawa realised that Iwa-chan would not always be around.
‘I’m going to Tokyo next month’
‘What! Why?’
‘Well, I want to study sports science and they offered me a scholarship, Shittykawa’
Oikawa frowned, his stomach sinking. He’s going away.
‘Are you … not happy?’ Hajime asks, unusually hesitant.
‘Of course, I am, Iwa-chan! Our ace is not only good at volleyball but also smart! Who knew?’ Oikawa smiles, but it’s the smile Hajime hates, fake and emotionless.
‘Whatever, Shittykawa. Let’s get back to practice.’
‘Iwa-chaaaaan! Why are you such a hardass’, Oikawa pouted, grateful that Hajime had changed the subject.
‘Don’t let it show. You absolutely cannot let your feelings show.’ Oikawa shook his head as they walked back to practice, a smile on his face and an arm around Hajime’s shoulder. ‘Our beloved ace has gotten into Tokyo University with a scholarship everyone!’ he yelled as they walked through the gym doors.
The room erupted in applause and smiles, everyone rushing up to Hajime to congratulate him. Oikawa used the crowd to his advantage and slipped out of the gym, rushing to the locker room.
Once he was sure he was alone, he finally let his body be racked with coughs, violent and painful. This time the petals were a light pink, gentle on his skin in sharp contrast to the piercing pain in his chest. ' This was bound to happen sooner or later, why does it hurt so much?’, Oikawa thought. ‘Because you thought you had found the one who wouldn’t leave’ , his mind supplied, in a voice that sounded a lot like his mother.
‘Well ,’ he thought, ‘ he’s not obligated to be by my side forever no matter what my naïve heart feels . And I’m not about to be one-upped by Iwa-chan. If he’s going to Tokyo I will just go even further away .’ He gathered the petals, those hateful reminders of his weak heart, and threw them into his bag, running back to the gym to join a celebration his heart wasn’t in.
---
Argentina is lonely.
This is what Oikawa realises as he walks down the brightly lit streets of San Juan, body tired and achy from practice. His stomach rumbles, a reminder for him to feed himself, but Oikawa’s mind was elsewhere, a place starkly different from San Juan with its warm colours and strong smells. Miyagi . The very thought of the quaint district filled him with nostalgia.
The breeze ruffled his hair, as he thought about a certain spiky-haired, hard-handed man somewhere in California. (Like he didn’t know the exact location of where he was). His mind was lost in a maze of memories, filled with images of Hajime and him, at their favourite ramen shop in Miyagi, at the volleyball gym at Seijoh, in the living room of his childhood home, the sound of Hajime’s laughter still fresh in his mind. ' It hurts to think of him', he thought, ' but I’d rather hurt than not think of him.'
Lost in his thoughts, Oikawa came to an abrupt stop when he realised, he was already at his apartment door. Just as he opened the door, his phone dinged, startling him. ' Look whom I met!’ , the notification read. Oikawa unlocked his phone, heart squeezing as he saw Hajime’s goofy grin, his arm around Ushiwaka’s shoulders.
'It hurts', he thinks as his body is racked with coughs once again, the floor now being littered with red petals, the colour of Oikawa’s heart. ' It hurts, but it’s familiar now.' He bent down, gathering the soft petals, carrying them gently for they were as fragile as his shattered heart.
With blurry eyes, he typed out a reply. ‘Haha, Iwa-chan, two big brutes like you and you don’t even know how to take a selfie.’ As he pressed ‘send’, a tear fell on the screen, blurring Hajime’s face. He wiped the screen, laughing mirthlessly. ' Argentina is lonely', came the unwelcome thought, ' but my heart is lonelier'.
---
The court was filled with laughter and cheers, a mix of Japanese and Spanish could be heard everywhere. Oikawa was buzzing with adrenaline, heart pounding as he walked back for the final serve. The match was at a deuce and his team had the advantage. All he had to do was slam this serve home. He took a deep breath, spinning the ball in his hands before bringing it to an abrupt stop. Eyes sparkling, he tossed the ball, jumping with all his might to spike it.
The crowd erupted in cheers as the serve landed deep in the back court with a resounding thud. Oikawa pumped his fists as his teammates crowded him, slapping his back and shouting. He laughed, eyes darting to the sides, eager to see his Iwa-chan’s expression. ‘ Not mine’, he warned himself. He finally found him, standing at the bench, eyes shining with determination and something else he couldn’t decipher.
Once everyone had settled down, Oikawa walked up to Hajime, heart aching and expression smug.
‘So, we won.’
‘You did.’
‘What happened to ‘ One day I will defeat you ,’ Iwa-chan’. Oikawa’s voice was teasing but there was no weight behind it.
‘Shut up, Shittykawa. This is not the last game of either team.’ but Hajime was smiling. It was Oikawa’s favourite smile, the one where his eyes crinkled, and cheeks bunched up. ' That smile doesn’t belong to you', he thought even as it tugged at his heart.
‘Come over,’ Oikawa blurted out, in an effort to distract himself. Hajime looked surprised. ‘It’s been what? Over 10 years since you bought me ramen, Iwa-chan!’ He smirked. ‘I deserve it, what with us winning the match and all.’
Hajime laughed, as Oikawa looked on fondly. ‘Of course, Shittykawa! I’d love to.’
---
Oikawa shivered as a strong breeze blew past him.
‘27 years old and you still don’t know how to wrap up for the cold weather’ Hajime shook his head as he shrugged out of his jacket. ‘Here, take this.’
Oikawa stared at the jacket, with a dazed expression on his face. 'Why must he be so perfect', he thought, still staring at the jacket.
‘Oi, Shittykawa, can you hear me?’, he snapped his fingers in Oikawa’s face. Hajime tugged him forward with one hand, which drew Oikawa out of his daze. ‘Of course, I can Iwa-chan! I was just amazed that a brute like you is offering me his jacket. Time really changes people, huh?’. Hajime let out an indignant scoff as Oikawa pulled the jacket on. At once, he was overwhelmed with Hajime’s scent, the smell of wood and warmth overpowering his senses. ‘ Home’ was the first thing his brain thought, ‘ he smells like home’. Oikawa chuckled, amazed at the cruelty of the universe.
Soon they reached his hotel room, burdened by bags full of steaming ramen. Oikawa unlocked the door, bowing with a flourish, ‘Guests first, Iwa-chan! I can’t be outdone by you when it comes to manners.’
Hajime burst out laughing at that. ‘You are never going to change, are you Shittykawa?’ Oikawa smiled at that, his heart singing. ' At the very least I can make him laugh, if not anything else.' ‘Welcome to my humble abode, I guess.’
Hajime walked in eyes drawn to the mess of clothes on the chair. ‘Pardon the mess, you know how I am.’ Oikawa rubbed his neck. ‘Just hang on let me clear this up.’ Oikawa turned towards Hajime, ready to be scolded for being messy but Hajime was not looking at him.
Oikawa’s heart stopped as he realised what he was looking at. His eyes were fixed on the jars on the dressing table, filled to the brim with petals, yellow, red and pink. ' Fuck, I forgot to put them back.'
‘What are those, Tooru?’ Hajime’s voice was firm, his expression unreadable. ‘And why are they on your dressing table in your room at the goddamn Tokyo Olympics.’
‘You know what they are. They’re a sign that I’ve been rejected. Again.’
‘Who is it? And why would you carry them around ?’ Hajime asks taken aback at the broken look in Oikawa’s eyes.
‘It really doesn’t matter. He doesn’t return my feelings as you can see.’
‘Just tell me, dumbass.’
‘It’s you’, Oikawa blurted out, voice shaking and heart tired of hiding its feelings, of feeling guilty and inadequate. ‘It’s you and it has been you since we were in high school. I carry them around because I like being reminded of the one guy who’ll never see me as anything other than his best friend.’ I hadn’t meant to say that. ‘Plus, it’s easy clean up, you know?’ He laughed, looking up to see if he had finally driven the other boy away.
All of a sudden, he was pulled into an embrace, Hajime’s familiar, calloused hand in his hair. Oikawa looked up sharply when he felt tears falling on his head. Hajime was smiling that beautiful smile, tears rolling down his face. ‘Iwa-chan …?’ Oikawa was confused. This was not the reaction he had been expecting.
Hajime pulled out a small glass bottle from his pocket. ‘Take a look at this.’ The bottle was filled with petals. Gerberas to be exact.
‘Oh.’ Oikawa’s eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised up to his hairline.
‘Yeah, Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I thought we told each other everything.’
‘I was scared’ came Oikawa’s voice, small and trembling. The boy was shaking in Hajime’s arms, hot tears escaping his eyes. ‘I was so scared, Iwa-chan. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.’
‘I would never leave you, dumbass. Not in a million years.’ He said as he pulled the other boy into a kiss. Pulling away, he cupped Oikawa’s face, wiping way his tears. ‘I love you, Tooru.’
Oikawa smiled, and it was like watching a flower bloom in the spring. ‘I love you too, Hajime. So fucking much.’
---
‘What type of flowers would you like at the wedding venue?’
‘What do you think, Shittykawa?’
‘I think we’ll go with Gerberas.’