Chapter Text
The fall always happens fast, much faster than the rise anyway.
Hajime knows that, has known for the longest time actually. In fact, he first realized this one time when he was a kid playing with his dad at the beach. They’d spent the whole afternoon building a sand castle, working on the structure and those damn towers that took him so much patience and dedication, for it to crumble in a split second after a particularly strong blow of wind. He had been so sad that time - his father still teases him about it sometimes - and not because the castle was destroyed, but mostly because all the time and effort he’d spent on it ended up being wasted.
The same thing happened with the birthday cake he made (with the help of his mother of course, but Hajime was too proud to admit that) for Tooru’s eleventh birthday. He baked the base, prepared the topping and the coloured glazing and tried different flavours in order to find the best one for his best friend. And the boy in question had the audacity to finish the whole cake that took him an entire day to make in just ten minutes, leaving just a few slices behind for his family and Hajime.
It is almost like a law of nature, a constant in everyone’s life, so natural that Hajime isn’t surprised anymore when it happens again during his last year of high school, during what ends up being the last volleyball match with the Seijoh team. Long months of hard work and intense training with his teammates mean nothing when Karasuno scores the last point, winning the match and securing their place in the final.
And it’s frustrating to say at least, Hajime hates the idea of his efforts being in vain, but it’s nothing compared to the look on Oikawa’s face when he faces the team he couldn’t take to the nationals, with the expression of someone who thinks they’re not good enough. So, once it’s just the two of them in the locker room, he goes up to his best friend and hugs him, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders while the latter finally cries and lets all his frustration out, clinging to the back of Hajime's shirt like a lifeline.
It’s almost painful, and Hajime wants to punch something, because it’s so unfair for someone as amazing as Oikawa to feel this way, to feel like they'll never be able to reach the top no matter what they do or how much they try. So, Hajime tries to comfort him the best way he can, he holds onto him until Oikawa is not crying anymore and keeps whispering words of reassurance to make sure Oikawa knows he is there for him, and will always be, no matter what.
Time goes by like this, the two of them caught in a trance of sweet words and muffled sobs, limbs entangled in a position that can’t be comfortable in the long run, but the presence of each other makes everything else fade out in the background and the two boys can only drown in the comfort and warmth the closeness provides.
Hajime doesn’t know who moves first - could be him, could be Tooru, could be both of them - but he finds himself pressed even more against the other boy’s body, his hands grasping his cheeks while Tooru’s find their place on his hips, and, before he can even start to process what’s going on, they are kissing.
Oh my god, they are kissing.
It’s clumsy at first and Hajime senses the other boy tensing up, probably waiting for a rejection. And Hajime can’t help but smile into the kiss, as he thinks how stupid Oikawa must be for even thinking about him not returning his feelings, for thinking so little of himself that he’s afraid his own best friend (or partner, or boyfriend? they’ll have to discuss that later) wouldn’t love him just as much.
So he pours everything into the kiss: all the good times they’ve spent together, the happiness, the laughter, the smiles and looks they exchanged that finally make sense now, but also the frustration, the anger, the sadness and the regret they both feel at this moment. And he can feel Oikawa doing the same, as the initial surprise leaves its place to a way more pleasing feeling that warms up his face and body.
They part just for a second to catch their breaths and look at each other, and once they lock eyes, time seems to stop, they’re frozen in place, but all they can feel is warmth. A smile appears on Tooru’s face and Hajime thinks that if he could look at something for the rest of his life he wouldn’t mind it to be the expression Oikawa’s making now, cheeks slightly red and short breath.
“You’re the worst Iwa-chan! You can’t just do something like that after everything that happened today.”
“What do you mean I can’t?”
“This is gonna be both the worst and best day of my life now! Do you know how confusing that is?”
“You really are a piece of shit Oikawa”
“Excuse me? You’re the one-“
Hajime doesn’t let him finish, he kisses him again, partly just to shut him up but mostly because he wants to feel his lips and his warm breath on his face again. It’s slower this time, less rushed and desperate, and ten thousand times better. They both savour the kiss and let their hands wander on each other’s body, fingers brushing soft hair and broad shoulders, tanned skin mixing with paler one, limbs moving in perfect coordination, like they've waited all their life for this exact moment. And Hajime finds himself thinking the fall can be better than the rise sometimes and that if he could live this moment forever he’d be happy for sure.
It happens again, again, again and again.
They spend the entire weekend painting the walls of their apartment in Tokyo, careful not to make mistakes or ruin anything. The sun is setting when they finally finish, the last ray of natural light making the teal shades of the walls appear darker and warmer.
“It came out really pretty. I’m glad we picked this colour.”
“You can thank me later Iwa-chan. If we’d stuck with your choice, our apartment would be that ugly shade of green.” Oikawa says from the sofa he is laying on, much to Hajime’s annoyance.
“Do you ever stop talking? I think we’re even after I painted most of these walls while you were sitting on the couch eating your milkbread and doing nothing.”
“Can you really blame me Iwa-chan? I was really tired, plus you looked really hot while working shirtless. Admit you did it on purpose to distract me.”
“You’re unbelievable” Iwaizumi scoffs while approaching his boyfriend. “I don’t need to put up any type of show, not out of the bedroom at least” he added with a smirk.
“Shall we move this to the bedroom then?” Was Oikawa’s response as he got up and welcomed Iwaizumi in his arms.
They kiss. It is tender and slow and burning all at the same time, like the hundreds of kisses they've exchanged since they got together in their last year of high school.
It had been a rollercoaster since then. First coming out to their friends and family - which went extremely smoothly, much to Oikawa and Iwaizumi surprise, as if they were all already expecting it - then the dating, finishing high school, their promise, going to different colleges, moving to different countries. Saying it had been easy would be a lie, it wasn’t most of the time. The distance had been a problem, especially for Oikawa considering how clingy he is, but they kept in touch as much as possible with calls, messages, video calls and sometimes even letters.
And then, after five long years apart, they’re finally both back to Japan, Oikawa playing as a pro in the V league and Iwaizumi working as an athletic trainer for the national volleyball team. It seems surreal, being together again and living their respective dreams, being this happy they feel they might burst.
And it only gets better when one morning, while they’re laying naked in Oikawa’s bed, the latter says “I wish you would never leave my bed Iwa-chan” while snuggling closer to his boyfriend’s chest.
“If we lived together it would be our bed” the man in question whispers softly in Oikawa’s hair.
There is silence between them, and then Iwaizumi can hear some muffled sobs escaping his partner's lips, and that’s the only response he needs.
The following week they’re looking for an apartment to live in together.
The process is long and not always easy but they finally get it. A place they can call home, a place with all their pictures from when they were five years old up until now, a place where oikawa can listen to his favorite songs by Marina and sing along at the top of his lungs, a place where Iwaizumi can cook curry whenever he feels like it, a place where they can watch stupid documentaries while being pressed against each other on the couch, a place where they can have morning sex and then shower sex immediately after. Their place.
It’s crazy to think about it, even now, with Oikawa’s lips moving along his jaw and his hands wandering on his back.
“Yeah, we should definitely move this to the bedroom” Iwaizumi says as he picks his boyfriend up and starts walking towards their bed.
It all happens at once. While they’re moving past the door Oikawa thrusts his hips against Iwaizumi’s crotch, causing a moan to escape the other man’s lips, and the two lose balance for a second. But a second is enough for Iwaizumi to reach the closest thing he can find in order not to fall, which happens to be a cabinet next to the doorframe, and use it to balance himself again.
They don’t fall, but the cabinet hits the bucket with the remaining paint and overturns it, resulting in a mess of fresh paint hitting the floor and the carpet Oikawa’s mum had given them as a present.
The moment is gone as the two of them realize what just happened.
“Shit! Oikawa I’m sorry” Iwaizumi says as he lets go of his boyfriend and hurries to see the extent of the damage.
“Iwa-chan is so excited to have sex with me that he can’t even walk straight anymore”
“This is not funny Trashykawa. Look at the mess we’ve made.” The man groans while going to take something in order to clean the carpet.
“It’s no big deal Iwa-chan, we can always buy a new one if it doesn’t come out clean, I won’t tell my mum” Oikawa laughs as he goes and embraces his boyfriend from behind.
Iwaizumi leans into the contact and stops for a moment, letting his head fall on top of Oikawa’s, his body still tense.
“Why are you so worked up over this Iwa-can? I told you, it’s no big deal” Oikawa murmurs into his shoulder, before he starts placing soft kisses on the warm skin there.
“It’s just… I don't know… We worked so long in order to keep everything clean and now we just relax for a second and this is the result.” Iwaizumi says, pointing at the huge stain on their floor and carpet.
“Well, that only means we’ll have to work a little bit more before going to bed. What is it that they say? The longer the wait the greater the pleasure, right?” Oikawa says, turning his boyfriend around so that they are facing each other.
“Yeah I guess you’re right, sorry”
“Stop apologizing or you’re sleeping on the couch Iwa-chan”
At that, they both laugh and Iwaizumi’s hands find their place on his boyfriend’s cheeks as they both lean in for a kiss.
“I love you so much” Oikawa whispers before closing the distance between their lips.
The fall always happens fast, much faster than the rise anyway. Hajime knows that, has known for the longest time actually.
So it’s no big surprise that he moves before anyone else does, faster than anyone else, as he feels his heart in his throat, and rushes at Oikawa’s side just a few seconds after his knee hits the gym floor.
It was already clear from the first step of his jump that something was wrong: the posture itself was not the usual one and the balance was off. And it only became more evident as Oikawa hit the ball in mid-air, in the way his whole torso was leaned a bit too much forward after the impact, in a way that screamed wrong wrong wrong to Hajime’s experienced eyes.
One second and the man he loves is on the ground, clutching his already injured knee with an expression of pure and raw pain on his beautiful beautiful face. One second is all it takes for years of training and effort to lose all their meaning. One stupid second and a lifetime of sacrifices and dedication vanishes before Hajime, who can only watch helplessly as the paramedics take the love of his life, put him on a stretcher and take him to the hospital.
It's like being in a trance or some sort of weird dream - a nightmare, Hajime corrects himself - because he finds himself in a hospital’s waiting room and he has no idea how he got there. Did he go with the ambulance? Did he drive here himself? Did someone drive him?
He sets for the last option as he realizes there are other people sitting next to him: Hanamaki and Matsukawa on his right, Oikawa’s sister on his left and Oikawa’s parents in front of him, standing, as they talk with a doctor.
It all hits him at once, the situation they’re in, the seriousness of it all, but especially the fact that he is not next to his fiancé when the other man is probably terrified, more than everyone else in this room put together. He abruptly turns his head towards his friends’ direction, his eyes desperately begging for the answer to the question he can’t bring himself to ask out loud.
How’s Oikawa?
It’s Makki - bless his soul - who meets his eyes first and immediately understands. “They’re giving him surgery right now. The fall tore both his cruciate ligaments and the whole knee articulation is compromised. And...”
Makki hesitates, looking at Matsukawa for some sort of support. The other man nods, not meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes, and the first one continues.
“They’re trying to fix it as much as possible, but… considering it was already damaged in the past… it’s gonna be… difficult, to say at least”
“... Difficult, but not impossible, yeah?”
Iwaizumi doesn’t recognize his own voice - he wouldn’t even have realized it was him who spoke if it wasn’t for the three pairs of eyes looking at him in disbelief. No one answers his question, no one dares, as his two best friends and Oikawa’s sister exchange a look of apprehension.
It’s the latter who eventually sighs and turns Iwaizumi by his shoulders, facing him directly, warm brown eyes piercing his in a way that is too familiar for his liking.
“Listen, Hajime. We won’t know until the surgery is over, so there’s no need to think about the worst right now. We’ll talk about that if and when it’ll be necessary. Okay? Now I need you to relax and breathe.”
“I- Okay, alright.” He exhaled at last.
The smile that Oikawa’s sister offered him was comforting, but he could see in her eyes that she was trying to convince herself too, maybe more than anyone else.
They stayed quiet for the rest of the time, Oikawa's parents exchanging a few words of encouragement and reassurance with their daughter, Makki patting his back from time to time in an attempt to comfort him.
Iwaizumi was lost in his thoughts, eyes fixated on one particular spot on the floor, shoulders hunched forward and forearms resting on his knees. His whole body was vibrating with frustration and anticipation for what was going to be either the best or worst news of his life.
And while he was waiting the only thing he could think about was how unfair it all was. He thought about all the years Oikawa and him had spent apart, too far away for both of their liking, but necessary. He thought about Oikawa’s smile (and tears) when he’d returned to Japan and saw Hajime for the first time in person after too many video calls to be counted. He thought about the mornings they’d spent snuggled in their bed, warm bodies sore and pressed against each other. He thought about how excited and happy Oikawa had been when he was selected to play in the national team and how they had celebrated all night long.
He thought about how everything was going to change and never be the same.
The ache in his chest was constricting him, making it hard to breathe. What was he gonna do? How did they even end up here? Oikawa had worked so much and had learned to take proper care of himself since high school. He had never overworked himself again and was always extremely careful with his injured knee.
And now, for a stupid stupid mistake he had made when he was sixteen, his whole future could be compromised.
I should’ve stopped him that time. I should’ve realized before what he was doing to himself. I should’ve…
His train of thoughts was interrupted by a doctor entering the waiting room, and all the people inside sprung to their feet.
“How is he?”
“How's my son?”
“How did the surgery go?”
The doctor didn’t seem surprised by the many questions, he just exhaled and offered them a kind smile, probably reading the worry painted on all their faces.
“The surgery went good. We did everything we could and we were able to successfully fix the articulation and one of the two ligaments.”
The air in the room was still, no one dared to breathe.
“However, the other ligament was already damaged from a previous injury and there was nothing we could’ve done to completely restore it. I’m sorry.”
Hajime felt his throat closing up, bile rising in his stomach. This couldn’t be real.
“So what now?” Asked Oikawa’s father while holding his wife's hands in his.
“He is going to need some physical therapy for a few weeks but he’ll be able to walk again normally and without any support. His body is strong so he’ll recover quickly.”
There was a sense of dread in the room, like everyone knew what to ask next, but no one could bring themself to do so. It was Matsukawa who talked in the end.
“What about volleyball? He’s a professional athlete, is… is he going to be able to play again?”
The doctor frowned.
Hajime felt like throwing up.
“Even if the articulation is fixed now, with one of the two main ligaments this much damaged, it’s not as stable and strong as before. Considering these conditions and the sport he plays, it’s inevitable that it’ll be extremely easy for him in the future to get injured again. One wrong movement, too much pressure or a little bit too much of strain and his knee will need surgery again.”
“So… that means… what does it mean? He won’t be able to play again? Is that what you're saying?”
Hajime’s voice came out as a strain, the words pushing their way out of his mouths, battling the fear that was creeping up on his body.
Before answering the doctor gave him a warm, knowing, smile.
“I’m afraid he won’t. There’s no way his knee can undergo the same intense training regimen as before. It’s likely that he’ll gain complete mobility again, but the articulation is going to be weaker and, as you may already know, that’s something a professional player cannot afford. But he’ll be able to do everything else as usual, eventually.”
That was it. Hajime felt stupid for even hoping evrything was going to be okay again. He had seen the fall, the movement, the injured knee, Oikawa’s expression. Every piece of information he needed was exactly in front of him, clear as the day, he had just been too blind to realize it and put the pieces together, too scared to see the reality of things.
Oikawa wasn’t going to play volleyball anymore.
He won’t be able to play again.
I have to tell him.
I have to see him.
“Can we see him? Not to be rude, but he’d rather receive this information from us then from a doctor.”
“That’s fine. He’s still asleep now, but we'll let you know when he wakes up Iwaizumi-san.”
“Alright, thank you.”
After the doctor left the room, Oikawa’s mom let out a sob and her husband patted her back and helped her sit down. The news had hit them all bad enough, after all, the people in that room were the closest ones to Oikawa, the ones who’d shared the most with him, the ones that knew him the best.
Oikawa’s sister was on the phone with her husband, probably updating him on the situation.Oikawa’s father was now calling the rest of the family, giving them the bad news, as his wife kept crying by herself.
Hajime felt the need to comfort her, but his legs weren’t moving, and the only thing he could do was standing in the middle of the waiting room, eyes glassy, as he watched the woman that was basically a second mother to him crying for her son, passing her hands through her way too familiar wavy dark brown hair.
The urge to throw up was stronger than ever. Hajime had to get out of there.
He stormed out of the room towards the smoking area and sat on a bench, the palms of his hands pressing on his eyes, hoping that the pain would eliminate the heaviness of his head and the clutching feeling in his stomach. Needless to say it was all useless.
A few moments later Matsukawa was sitting next to him, a cigarette in his mouth.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t.” His friend said, breathing a little cloud of smoke out of his mouth.
Iwaizumi stared at him, waiting for a more articulated answer, and Matsukawa stared back at him, unfazed, as he kept smoking. At last, he reached for his pack of cigarettes, offering it to Iwaizumi.
“You want one?”
“I don’t smoke”
“Neither do I”
Iwaizumi took a cigarette and the lighter.