Chapter Text
Achilles is a title: Best of men, blessed by the gods. ἄχος (áchos) "distress, pain, sorrow, grief" and λαός (laós) "people, soldiers, nation". A warrior to carry and absolve the suffering of his people.
To be Achilles is an honour beyond almost all.
===
The Iwaizumi family moves to Aoba Johsai when Iwaizumi is 9. If Iwaizumi climbs the tall tree in his backyard, he can almost make out the pale ruins of the Jade Castle, Aoba-Joh. The siege of the Little Giant. He had heard of it in history lessons, back in Kita-daii, but to see the legendary battle site for himself was… an experience. He leans further, craning his neck, and suddenly-
"Yahoo~ Are you my new neighbour?"
Iwaizumi flails, overbalancing, and falls out of the tree with a thump. He scowls, rubbing his head. "What the Hades?"
A hand appears in his field of sight. The skin is pale and smooth, and the fingers are calloused in a familiar pattern. Iwaizumi's eyes follow the outstretched hand to meet a pair of chocolate brown eyes. "Hello! My name is Oikawa Tooru, and we're going to be friends!"
The breath leaves his lungs in a whoosh.
Even at the age of 9, Oikawa Tooru is already almost too beautiful, milk-pale skin and bronze-bright hair, grace in every movement and power thrumming under his skin. Iwaizumi can't quite tear his eyes away from his long, silky lashes, and the way the sunlight glints off his hair. Iwaizumi can almost understand why Mika-chan made such a fool of herself around Daishou, why Eichi was at Akira's beck and call.
Then Oikawa shoves his hand closer and frowns. The moment is broken. "You know, unknown-kun, it's customary for you to introduce yourself in return."
Iwaizumi scowls and grips his hand, pulling himself up. "Iwaizumi Hajime. Nice to meet you."
Oikawa beams. "Iwaizumi-kun! Nice to meet you. My family lives just next door, right next to the woods. I think I've heard of your family right? The one with the great warrior Iwaizumi Haruto?"
"My brother. He's… very accomplished. We moved here because this is where he's championing." He straightens up with familiar familial pride. "He taught me to swordfight."
"Then Iwaizumi-kun must be very skilled! I'm going to defeat you when we spar!"
"You?" Iwaizumi looks him over. Sword calluses line his palm and scrapes cover his limbs, but for all his beauty, Oikawa is still stick thin and gangly. "You couldn't even pin a butterfly."
There is a sudden frozen moment. In the wink of an eye, Iwaizumi finds himself flat on his back. Oikawa stands over him, eyes narrowed, a stick aimed at his throat. "Say that again."
Iwaizumi finds that his tongue has dried up in his throat. He stares up at him breathlessly. For a minute, there is no sound other than his heart pounding in his ears and the birds chirping in the trees. Then Oikawa smiles, the radiant sun, and stretches out his hand.
"My name is Oikawa Tooru, and I'm going to be the next Achilles."
Oikawa's eyes glow in the midday sun, and his heart skips a beat. For a split second, Iwaizumi sees Oikawa at the age of 20, tall and lean and golden, at the front of an army. Oikawa, the sun glinting off his armor, elegance and strength, fighting off an invader. The next Achilles. In that moment, Iwaizumi would have followed him to the ends of the world.
Oikawa's hand is still outstretched, a wordless offer in his fingertips and a challenge in his eyes. Iwaizumi feels a laugh bubbling up in his throat. He takes it.
===
Oikawa starts hanging around the Iwaizumi residence. Iwaizumi starts becoming friends with him.
That summer, Iwaizumi learns a lot about Oikawa.
He learns that while he himself is fascinated by bugs, Oikawa will scream if he so much as sees a beetle nearby. When he shoves a bug down his shirt as a prank, he gets his nose broken by flailing arms. Oikawa is stronger than he looks, and not as coordinated as he wants to be.
He learns that Oikawa is very good at apologising. And that Oikawa's mother is quite a gifted healer.
He learns that his favourite food is milk bread, specifically the milk bread his mom makes, but he'll eat anything sweet. Including the cream cake straight from Iwaizumi's hand.
Of course, the cream cake's taste is marred by the pain of his bruised jaw after Iwaizumi instinctively decks him. His brother would have ducked away laughing, but Oikawa's reflexes are far from that of a legendary warrior yet, and his chin is caught head on.
Iwaizumi learns to apologize. Over time, he gets almost as good as Oikawa. Except to Oikawa himself, of course. They're just like that.
The first time Iwaizumi sees Oikawa run, really, properly run, he feels the breath fly out of his lungs.
Oikawa's soles barely touch the ground, and he flies over the ground, his hair trailing out behind him, glinting gold in the sun. It's like watching a shooting star speed towards the ground, Oikawa running like Hermes himself.
Iwaizumi is entranced.
(He's even more impressed when Oikawa picks up a spear and easily throws it the same distance as his brother without breaking a sweat, turning back to him with a frown and a mutter of 'still too short'. Oikawa Tooru was destined for a spear, not a sword.)
That summer, Oikawa teaches him the roads of Seijoh, the back alleys where the stray cats are, the best shortcuts to get from one side to another, the paths to the temples and the stores with the best deals. Iwaizumi teaches him their family's hand to hand, corrects his sword grip and his stance, teaches him to wield a mace and hide a knife. Oikawa teaches him how to wheedle an extra cake out of the street vendors, the proper decorum of tea ceremonies, how to smile and speak just so and gain an adult's trust. Iwaizumi teaches him the warrior's code, the theory and history of wars, how to play chess and strategize to win.
(Oikawa is excellent at chess, and even better with people, but he doesn't win against Iwaizumi, not until they're both 18 and half tipsy on rice wine.)
They share tutors for music, for literature, for every area of knowledge a young noble son should know about. They share clothes, homes, sometimes beds when the nights get cold and boring. Their mothers meet over tea far too often, and shake their heads fondly at the pair. They are young, and full of fire, and slowly, somehow, they become best friends.
Their tutors made them pair up once to practice partner fighting. Once, and only once. It's the first and only time they beat their tutors.
As soon as they step into the ring, Iwaizumi with his sword and Oikawa with his spear; as soon as they position themselves back to back against their two tutors; as soon as their tutors lunge and they bring up their weapons in unison;
It's like a tuning fork is struck against their spines.
They fight in perfect harmony. Even after just one summer, Iwaizumi has already learnt enough about Oikawa, beat him enough times, to know his weaknesses and his strengths. Oikawa has studied Iwaizumi enough, sparred with him enough, that they cover each other perfectly, a matched pair .
They have their tutors down in 10 minutes flat.
===
In their first summer together, Iwaizumi learns three important things about Oikawa Tooru.
3. Oikawa Tooru has the most potential with a spear he's seen, and he's going to be the best spear thrower one day.
2. Oikawa Tooru has the potential and the drive to be the next Achilles.
And lastly, almost most importantly,
1. Him and Oikawa Tooru are best friends. That will never change.
===
The first time Oikawa calls him Iwa-chan is when they're thirteen, the beginning of fall.
It's also the first time Iwaizumi loses to him.
Oikawa's limbs have lost their awkwardness as they adapt to years of proper rigorous training, and his eyes flash with a teasing challenge. "Will this be the time I finally beat Hajime-kun?"
Iwaizumi slides backwards smoothly and blocks a fist, sending out a kick at the same time. "Nah. Your stances have improved, but don't push your luck."
Oikawa smiles mischievously. "Will Iwa-chan finally praise me when I beat him?"
"Iwa-chan???" Iwaizumi's heart skips a beat and his punch falters at the sudden nickname. Oikawa's eyes hone in on the sudden weakness and he lunges, a leg sliding behind Iwaizumi's knee and hooking, and Iwaizumi finds himself pinned to the ground by Oikawa for the first time since they've met.
Iwaizumi feels his face warm at the sudden intimacy of the position, Oikawa's triumphant face glowing just a few inches from his. He leans back and offers his hand, a mirror of their first meeting, and Iwaizumi takes it, pulling himself up.
"So?" Oikawa is all bright smiles and laughter. "I finally beat Iwa-chan. Are you going to praise me?"
Iwaizumi drags a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but his face. "Yeah, Shittykawa." His voice is hoarse, a lump in his throat. "Good job."
He avoids his eyes for the rest of the day.
They're lying side by side on their futons later when Oikawa speaks. "Iwa-chan?"
"…yeah, Shittykawa?"
"It is okay if I call you Iwa-chan, right?"
"Yeah, dumbass. We're friends. It's fine."
Oikawa rolls towards him, eyes wide in the scant moonlight. "The Achilles Tournament is in a few years."
Iwaizumi grunts sleepily in acknowledgement. "Go on."
"Your brother… he'll be going for it, won't he? The best warrior Seijoh has seen?"
"…Yeah, probably."
"Iwa-chan, do you think I'll be good enough by then?"
"You beat me in the Iwaizumi style of fighting, the style in which I've trained since birth. You're the best spear fighter I've ever seen, or at least you will be. You're all rounded and charming. What do you think?"
"…I want to know what you think, Hajime."
The silly nickname is gone in an instant. Iwaizumi looks towards him and sees vulnerability in every shuddering breath, Oikawa's eyes wide and almost begging. Tell me I'm good enough. Tell me I can be the next Achilles.
Iwaizumi rolls back on his back and stretches languidly. "You want to know what I think?" His hand finds Oikawa's, and Oikawa freezes. "I think you're good enough, Tooru." He presses the hand to his lips, and hears the breath hitch in Oikawa’s throat.
"I'll support you over my brother in your bid for Achilles."
Oikawa swears him as philtatos the very next day. With a declaration like that, how could he not?
===
They make other friends, of course. But Oikawa's smile is just a little too shiny, his eyes a little too stiff. Iwaizumi glances at him from the side of his eye and says nothing, but he squeezes Oikawa's hand in warning anyway.
Oikawa tells him one night, sprawled on the beach tracing the stars. Iwa-chan, they don't understand me. It's almost painful to have to talk to them. They don't make sense, not like you do.
Iwaizumi presses on. Still, you need friends.
Oikawa turns to him, his smile dazzling in the moonlight. Whatever. I have you, don't I?
Iwaizumi ignores the wave of emotion washing over him.
===
They improve at impossible speeds. Oikawa's bronze-gold hair grows to the nape of his neck, brushing his shoulders, tickling the bottom of his ribs. He refuses to cut it, citing years and years of 'hard work' and patience. As a compromise, Iwaizumi offers to braid it, to keep it out of his eyes. He ignores how his stomach squeezes with happiness when Oikawa agrees.
Oikawa is far too close to him, his back warm pressed against his arms. Oikawa's hair is liquid bronze cascading in his hands. Iwaizumi deftly separates it into sections and weaves it together, his fingers a whisper on the back of his neck. The first time, it's tangled and messy, prompting a squawk of rage. The second, it's marginally better. By the end of the day, Iwaizumi knows how to do a basic braid.
(and if later he goes to ask the pretty florist to teach him to braid hair, no one needs to know about it)
And from then on, Iwaizumi is the one who braids Oikawa's hair, before they train, before they run, before bed.
===
They're growing up. In hindsight, they should have seen this coming.
Oikawa wakes up one day to find that his bronze hair has darkened to almost brown and screams so loudly that Iwaizumi crashes into his room, sword in hand, ready to fight off whatever invader that has somehow made their way past the guards.
"IWA-CHAN," Oikawa shrieks. "MY HAIR."
Iwaizumi drops his sword with a clang and hurls a vase at him. "Olympus, Trashykawa, I thought someone was here to kill you!"
Oikawa stares at him with huge watery eyes, his hands clutching his braid. "Iwa-chan, my hair is brown."
Iwaizumi stares at him like he's grown a second head. "Yes. And?"
"It's brown!! I look common!"
"…did you really not see this happening?"
Oikawa screeches, betrayed. "Iwa-chan, you saw my hair darkening and didn't say anything?"
Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side. "It's… normal for your hair to darken with age?"
Oikawa positively sobs as he flops back down on his bed. "I look terrible!"
He rolls his eyes and hauls him back up, dragging him outside. "Don't worry, your posse of fangirls will still find you pretty."
"Will Iwa-chan find me pretty?"
"You know, when we first met, I thought you were almost supernaturally pretty." The confession falls from his lips almost unwittingly.
Oikawa gasps and clutches his chest, hair momentarily forgotten. "Iwa-chaaaan, that's so sweet!"
"Of course, that was before you opened your mouth and revealed your shitty personality."
He tackles him to the ground. "You take that back! I'm pretty, you said it yourself! Go on, say it: Oikawa Tooru is pretty!"
"Oikawa Tooru is prettyyy… annoying."
Oikawa pinches him. "Iwa-chan is so mean to me!"
Iwaizumi glares at him but he can't stop his eyes from softening. "Yeah, just to you."
===
They sneak out too much.
Iwaizumi loves hiding in the forests, exploring every nook and cranny till both of them know the woods like the back of their hand. He loves climbing the trees, high above everyone else, and following the animals, light-footed and unnoticed. He loves how Oikawa's long hair dapples in the sunlight streaming through the trees, loves watching Oikawa scramble up branches, loves watching him stain his lips on fresh blueberries.
Oikawa loves the ocean, the beach. He loves the gentle glow of the sun dipping below the horizon, the soft sand between his toes, running along the shore with Iwaizumi chasing after him. He loves the sea breeze, loves the water on his skin, loves the taste of salt and opportunity in the air. He loves how Iwaizumi's smile softens as he looks out over the water, how his hair looks plastered to his head, how he laughs at the sight of Oikawa soaking wet, having fallen into the water.
Iwaizumi loves Oikawa. Oikawa loves Iwaizumi. Most days, they end up on the beach, bathed in golden sun and salty wind. They end up chasing each other through the cove, laughter echoing off the walls of the caves, sand sneaking everywhere and following them home. Iwaizumi untangles Oikawa's hair after the sea breeze and braids it back, fixing his mask for the general public. This is a side of Oikawa that only Iwaizumi sees, hidden among the seagulls' cries and the gentle crashing of the waves.
They sneak out too much. It's a bad habit they just can't break.
They're walking back one day when they hear them. First, the great bell tolling. Then, the steady pounding of the announcements drum, a pattern that itches his brain, familiar but not familiar enough. Lastly, the mourning horn, low and thrumming. Iwaizumi feels his hair stand on end as the sound resonates through his bones. Something bad has happened.
"Iwa-chan, someone died." Oikawa's eyes are wide with fear. "We have to get back!"
Iwaizumi's heart pounds against his ribs in the same rhythm as their footsteps, Oikawa slowing to match him. someone died someone died someone died someone died-
His feet glue themselves to the cobblestone.
Oikawa flails at the sudden stop, turning around with eyes full of concern. "Iwa-chan?"
His tongue sits heavy in his mouth, and his vision tunnels. He feels himself sway alarmingly, and Oikawa is by his side in a flash, a steadying arm wrapped around him. "Iwa-chan, what-"
The house decked in black mourning is his own.
He scrambles towards it, feet numb. Who… no. it couldn't be.
The door smashes open beneath his hand. His mother looks up, face wet with tears. In her hand, a letter. Iwaizumi beelines for it, snatching it out of her hand. She doesn't even reprimand him for the rudeness, just sobs and turns away, and Iwaizumi feels a thick blanket of doom settle in his stomach.
We regret to inform you that Iwaizumi Haruto has fallen in battle, cut down by an enemy. Due to a perceived slight to his commanding officer- his commanding officer? His brother, a war hero, under some pipsqueak general without an ounce of courage? -he was deployed separately from his philtatos. Due to a shortage in men, he engaged in battle against medical advice, with a thigh wound and a sprained knee, and took down ten men before he died. He will be honored and remembered forever. Hail, Iwaizumi.
The paper warps under the pressure from his fingers.
My brother is dead.
It's only after the funeral, after the tsuya, after Iwaizumi Haruto's ashes are scattered among the ruins of Aoba Castle, that Iwaizumi lets himself break down, his face crumpling in tandem with his legs. Oikawa's arms come up and he hugs him close. Iwaizumi inhales, deep shuddering breaths, and sobs his heart out. Oikawa watches the stoic boy cry, and feels his heart clench. In an instant, he's made up his mind. Before he can say anything, Iwaizumi speaks, face still buried in his shoulder. "My brother is dead."
"I know, Hajime." Oikawa's voice is the softest it will go, quietly wavering. "I'm sorry."
"His philtatos is dead too. He… he followed him."
"I know," he repeats helplessly. "I'm sorry."
Iwaizumi rubs at his face. "His philtatos… I knew him. Katsu-kun."
"You mean… Miyamoto Katsuya? Miyagi's pride, who won the Battle of the Black Pearl?"
Iwaizumi nods. "That was in the last war, when he was deployed alone, before he was reunited with my brother. You knew him as the legendary warrior from Miyagi, but I knew him as my brother's friend."
"…What was he like?"
"He was even better at hand to hand than my brother was. He… he snuck me sweets at dinner and taught me how to climb a tree. When my brother beat me up badly in a sparring match, he wrapped my ribs and taught me how to fight dirty. He taught me the right way to saddle a horse and how to tie my yukata properly without tripping. He is… he was one of the best strategists in recent history, but he was one of the best men I've ever known." Iwaizumi's voice is soft as he speaks. His eyes brim over with tears. "He was like a second brother to me. And now he's dead."
"Oh, Hajime."
"They never should have separated them." Iwaizumi's voice is bitter. "They should have known that separating philtatos never ends well. Of course he would have followed my brother. He probably blamed himself for not being there."
"…Hajime."
Oikawa gently tips his chin up, and Iwaizumi's red rimmed eyes meet his.
"When I'm Achilles, no one else will die."
It's a foolish, childish promise. At 15, both of them should know better than to believe it.
Iwaizumi clings to him, to it like a raft in the sea.
===
Bad news comes like a flock of crows descending on a carcass, one after the other. Oikawa Thetis collapses at the dinner table one night, blood streaming from her nose. Iwaizumi watches, but he watches Oikawa, his face as bone white as his knuckles tighten around Iwaizumi's arm, as his mother is carried to her bedroom on a stretcher. He watches as doctors from all over the country are summoned, but no one knows what's wrong. He watches as Oikawa throws himself even more into his training, barely a moment spent outside the sparring grounds. Iwaizumi matches him blow for blow for blow, bruise for scrape for ache, keeping pace with him through the nights, dragging him to dinner, to sleep, to somewhere other than the field. He understands the need to train, to strain your body until your mind goes quiet.
They're sixteen, and the Achilles Tournament is in three years.
Oikawa drags Iwaizumi to spar with him again, eyes too bright and body raring to go. Iwaizumi obliges, because Oikawa's dream is his dream too, and he wants nothing more than for Oikawa to become the Achilles as he so wishes. He wants it, desperately, he wants their pain to be relieved, wants Oikawa to reach the light he's straining for.
Halfway through a bout, Oikawa's leg twists and gives out from underneath him. The two of them tangle and go down with a scream and a puff of sand. Iwaizumi is the first to recover, and he turns to see Oikawa's knee already swelling up. Almost absurdly, he thinks back to the skinny boy who had pinned him in a second, to the message We regret to inform you that Iwaizumi Haruto has fallen in battle, cut down by an enemy…
"Oikawa-"
"Don't." His teeth are gritted, his eyes squeezed in an effort to stop the tears. "You don’t have to lecture me, Iwa-chan."
Iwaizumi sits down next to him and gently takes his hand.I understand. Oikawa pitches sideways and buries his face in his shoulder.
They stay like that in the sand, two boys wrapped around each other, both trying not to cry.
"Iwa-chan." Oikawa is biting his lip so hard that Iwaizumi can see blood welling up around his teeth. "Iwa-chan, what do I do?"
"You rest. You recover. You come back stronger than ever." Iwaizumi stands and retrieves a plank and bandages. With calloused hands, he gently sets and splints Oikawa's leg. "Shittykawa, you dumbass, take better care of yourself."
Oikawa tries for a shaky smile. "Well, I have Iwa-chan for that."
Iwaizumi promptly scowls and flicks his forehead. "Don't be a moron. You can't be the great hero of mankind if you're missing a whole leg."
Oikawa lets his lip tremble comically and he promptly bursts into overdramatic tears. "Iwa-chaaaaan, so mean! Do you think I'm going to lose my leg?" Behind the teasing, Iwaizumi hears the undercurrent of fear. He flicks his forehead again, years of familiarity in the gesture.
"Don't be stupid, Tooru. You're going to be just fine."
===
He is. He recovers, and he trains, pushes himself just beyond his limits, striving to reach the standard he was before, to improve, to be better than the best. Iwaizumi watches him, arms crossed and brows furrowed, before picking up his own sword and joining him. At least this way he can almost control the pace at which Oikawa wears himself out. With his brother dead, the whole city thrums with expectations for Oikawa Tooru, the next champion of Seijoh.
(Iwaizumi starts sneaking away to the apothecary, to the healer’s house, to the woods, coming back covered in grime and sometimes blood and holding herbs, always with a satisfied smile on his face.)
It's a month after Thetis collapses when Oikawa suddenly stops in the middle of their morning run. "Hajime."
"What, no nickname?" Iwaizumi instinctively teases. His heart thuds. This must be serious.
Oikawa turns to face him, brown boring into green. "Hajime, I need you to promise me something."
Reflexively, "Anything."
"No matter if I'm Achilles or not, we're both destined for the warrior's life. We've fought for it, trained for it, we're ready for it."
"Yeah."
"And you're my philtatos. We'll fight side by side, prize each other above all, because I'll put you first and you'll put me first. Where I go you'll follow, and I'll stay by your side."
Iwaizumi sees where this is going. "Yeah."
Oikawa's eyes are dead serious. "Hajime, promise me you won't follow me where you can't go. If I die in battle, promise you won't come after me there."
His breath catches in his throat. His brother and Katsu-kun…
"Promise me!" Oikawa's gaze is heavy and searching, his eyes almost desperate.
Iwaizumi sets his chin. "Only if you'll promise the same."
Wordlessly, they clasp hands. I swear.
===
Iwaizumi only sees Oikawa lose a bout once. It's against the champion of Shiratorizawa, Ushijima Wakatoshi. They're all on the far edge of sixteen, tall and almost grown.
He only catches the end of the practice match, but that's enough. Ushijima grabs Oikawa by his braid and yanks. At the same time, his leg kicks out and hooks Oikawa's bad knee. Oikawa gasps and stumbles to the side, his spear missing its mark wildly. He's pinned in no time, panting flat on his stomach with a knee digging into his back and a sword aimed at his spine. Ushijima looks at him in contempt.
"Oikawa Tooru. Sloppy, undisciplined, weaknesses everywhere. You want to be the next Achilles? You should have come to Shiratorizawa."
Even from a distance, Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's loud "Fuck off".
Ushijima lets him up. "Your worthless pride is going to be your undoing. You're no match for me."
Oikawa gasps for breath, a pile of limbs on the ground. Iwaizumi marches over, dagger braced. "Ushijima, fuck off. He's worth ten of you. He'll beat you when you're least expecting it, just you wait."
Ushijima's face remains expressionless. He doesn't even speak, just turns and walks away. Iwaizumi is too busy running his hands over Oikawa, checking for bruises and on his knee to chase after him.
Oikawa finally meets Iwaizumi's eyes, and his are wet and burning with hatred. "That righteous bastard. I'm going to beat him one day."
Iwaizumi offers him a hand. "'Course you are."
Oikawa takes it. "One day. I'll be Achilles. And he'll regret it."
===
In their seventeenth summer, Iwaizumi learns a lot more about Oikawa.
He learns how all the girls in the city melt at his smile, how they bat their eyes and throw themselves at his feet, sigh dreamily over him and plan their weddings as he runs past. He learns how one of them had planned to love-potion him and swiftly dispatches that threat. He learns how Oikawa turns them down gracefully, somehow making them fall deeper than ever. He learns of the betrothals Oikawa has already rejected.
("Dumbass, why would you reject that offer from the Katsukis? They're such a high ranking family!"
"Ow, Iwa-chan, stop hitting me! I'll get brain damage. I'm going to be a warrior, remember? I can't settle down and be some lady's trophy husband! Besides, there's already someone I'm interested in.")
He learns how Oikawa's eyes look when he's drifting too far into his own head, learns when to ease him out gently and when to simply smack him and interrupt his thoughts. He learns that although Oikawa says his favourite food is milk bread, soba is what he scarfs down after training and ramen is what he eats when he's sad.
(He learns to make milk bread from Oikawa Thetis and ramen from the old shop owner on the corner. The first time Oikawa eats his milk bread, he actually cries.)
He learns what Oikawa looks like crying, learns what he looks like when he wakes gasping from a nightmare in the middle of the night. He learns to gently prod him into talking about it, whether it's about his mom, his future, or Seijoh burning down. He learns how Oikawa's weight feels in his arms, how his tears feel on his skin.
(Oikawa learns too. He learns all the same thing Iwaizumi does.)
He learns what Oikawa looks like dead on his feet with his guard still up, unwilling to stop and rest. He learns when and how to push Oikawa past his limits, and when and how to drag him to rest. He learns the feeling of his thick hair between his fingers, learns a million complicated ways to do a lady's hair and applies it to Oikawa's. He learns how Oikawa looks spinning in euphoria, his hair swirling around him and coming undone.
He learns how Oikawa looks, sleepy in the early dawn light, sweating and exhausted in the harsh afternoon sun, gentle and warm in the golden sunset, ethereal in the moonlight. He memorizes his laugh. He traces the lines of his body, the arc of his smile. He inscribes Oikawa into his heart. Iwaizumi would know him blind.
He watches Oikawa improve. He watches Oikawa launch his spear, fly across the earth, and catch it before it lands. He feels his heart in his throat.
He knows that Oikawa is going to be the next Achilles. He learns that he's in love with Oikawa Tooru.
And, as the moon rises over the peaceful beach, as the waves lap against their feet dangling off the edge of the dock, as Oikawa turns to him, skin lit silver in the moonlight with his hair fluttering in Iwaizumi's handiwork, as Oikawa smiles nervously, Iwaizumi lets his eyes soften at the smile. He lets Oikawa take his hand. He lets Oikawa trace his jaw with a calloused hand. He lets Oikawa kiss him under the starry sky, against a backdrop of glowing waves.
He learns how Oikawa’s lips feel on his, chapped and warm and soft.
And he learns that Oikawa, too, is in love with him.