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It’s the small things Oikawa notices at first. His mother, talking with a friend, saying “He’s a good boy, always has been.”
He doesn’t know why it feels so wrong. He’s a boy, he’s a he, it shouldn’t be wrong.
Maybe it’s the way she says it, he thinks. Something in her tone.
He just ignores it, fakes a smile, for it is a compliment after all, and even though there’s no one watching, he kind of feels like he has to, and runs outside to find Iwaizumi.
It gets worse right before he enters middle school.
He’s in his room, getting ready for his cousin’s wedding, forced into a tuxedo. It’s velvety, black and the tie is navy blue, almost the color of his school volleyball team’s jerseys. “For a pop of color,” his mother had said. “It’ll look so good on you, you’ll look like such a man.”
It feels wrong but also familiar, just like the word he. It’s the part that he hates most about this, he realizes; the looking like a man part. It shouldn’t bother him, he notes. He is a man after all, or will be when he grows up. He reminds himself and he’s comfortable with it. It’s not like he wants to be a girl, at least not most of the time. There’s a little voice in the back of his head that comes out every once in a while and wonders what it would be like to wear the girls uniform, try on a pleated skirt, but he shoves it down and hides it there. He’s a boy. Boy Oikawa is the Oikawa he likes, the Oikawa he’s familiar with.
But then why does it feel like his tux is choking him? Why does it feel like it doesn’t fit correctly, even though he’d gotten it altered to fit his tall frame?
He takes off the tie and throws it onto his bed, hoping it’ll take the choking sensation away. It doesn’t help.
He puts the tie back on and walks out to help set up for the wedding ceremony and pretends that it feels right.
.
By the time he’s twelve, and finally in middle school, he’s learned to live with it. He still feels his stomach clench whenever people refer to him as he, but he’s learned not to think about it, or at least, he’s gotten used to it.
There’s a time where his mother tells him he and Iwaizumi are so close that they’re almost brothers while they’re waiting for their turn to play at the Junior High tournament. The words hit him hard, and he feels so sick he has to run to the bathroom.
He’s not a boy, he thinks. Or at least not a brother. And he doesn’t even think about Iwaizumi that way, that would be gross. He practices a smile in the mirror and tries to breathe and stop the tears from coming. It gets like that sometimes, when the force of he, you’re a boy, and male gets to be too much and he has to take deep breaths to get back to normal.
When he leaves the bathroom, the men’s sign on the door makes him feel like he’s walked out of a cage.
Year after year, they’d lost to Shiratorizawa Junior High Academy. They hadn’t been able to go any higher until Oikawa’s third year.
A first year, named Kageyama Tobio showed up, and he was a genius. He outshined everyone, even Oikawa, and nothing hurt more than being blinded by that light. What hurt more than anything, though, was that he was happy just to even be on the team and have the ball in his hands.
It enraged Oikawa, who was jealous that something so simple could make him so happy. Sure, he found joy in volleyball and it was his favorite thing to do, but it hurt everytime someone mentioned he was on the boys team or even called him a he at all.
Oikawa still didn’t have a word for it, but he knows he’s not a boy. He still calls himself a he, because he doesn’t know what else to use, but sometimes in his head, he lets himself use she pronouns. It doesn’t feel right all of the time, but every now and then he feels more feminine and lets himself explore it, instead of repressing it all the time.
He’d stolen makeup from his mother and tried it on in secret once, when she wasn’t home. It had looked terrible, but for a moment, it had just felt right. The second time he tries it, he feels indifferent, but he keeps chasing that right feeling, trying to do something to make it click into place again. He tries everything he can, goes to a clothing store and hides a skirt in a pile of clothing and tries it on in the dressing room, ashamed and scared, but happy, because it makes him look a lot less like a boy.
Every time someone says “send a toss to him,” or “he’s such a good setter,” something in him falls apart. The court is his domain, his safe space and it feels wrong to be referred to as something he’s not while he’s on it.
“Sub Kageyama in for him,” the coach says.
It’s a practice match this time, and his sets haven’t been connecting. There’s something off about him today, even physically he feels like his body isn’t his own and there’s a tightening sensation in his chest.
The words echo in his ears like a bomb’s just gone off.
Kageyama hasn’t even said anything to him, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that says he’s excited to be on the court again, and he feels like Kageyama’s agreeing, there’s an unspoken “you are a boy and there’s nothing you can do about it” in his gaze.
Oikawa sits down on the bench and hides his face in his hands. He’s shaking with rage, and he doesn’t even know why.
All that he can think is “I’m not a boy, I’m not a boy, I’m not a boy,” and he has the urge to run out of the gym and into the bathroom to throw up.
He stays in the gym long after the practice match ends. Hoping that if he keeps jump serving aggressively enough, it’ll beat whatever’s wrong with him out of his body.
He hears footsteps come up behind him, and of course it’s Kageyama, coming over to him. He glares, but he doesn’t look scared and still approaches him.
“Please teach me how to serve,” he asks. “You’re one of the best male setters in our age group,” he adds and he’s so fucking honest and eager that it burns him up inside. He catches Iwaizumi in the doorway but even the sight of his familiar face isn’t enough to calm him down.
His vision goes red and all he wants is to make whatever the hell is wrong with him stop. He doesn’t even know what he is anymore, but all he knows is Kageyama thinks he’s a boy and he’s irrationally angry at the fact.
Before he realizes what he’s doing, he raises a fist and lunges towards Kageyama, who flinches back. Before his fist can collide with Kageyama’s face, his arm is yanked down by Iwaizumi, who looks furious and Oikawa steps back in shock at what he’s just done.
“Calm down, dumbass,” he says. He’s moved his hand so that they’re fingers are intertwined now, and he squeezes Oikawa’s hand in reassurance. He turns to face Kageyama, and says, “Sorry, but we’re done for today.”
Kageyama mutters an “okay”, and runs off.
Oikawa’s still standing there, chest heaving. Iwaizumi had let go of his hand when he spoke with Kageyama and he mourns the loss of contact. It’s just another thing Kageyama has taken from him.
“The switch up today was to clear your head,” Iwaizumi starts and Oikawa gapes at him. “You need to have some more composure, dumbass!”
Oikawa inhales sharply and scrunches his face the way he does when he’s trying not to cry.
“I want to win,” he says, his voice scratchy. “I want to beat Shiratorizawa and go to nationals. I-”
Iwaizumi cuts him off with a punch to the side. He winces.
“Do you think you’re the only one on the court? What are you even thinking, dumbass. If you think that your individual performance is equal to the team’s performance, I’ll punch you again!”
His hand is fisted in Oikawa’s shirt, and they’re close, like they used to be as children. So close, the lines between them are starting to blur.
“There’s no one on our team, who can beat Ushijima one on one,” he continues. “But no matter who your opponent is, the team with the better six is stronger.”
Iwaizumi seems to realize how close they are and backs off. He runs a hand through his hair and says, “Sorry, did I hit you too hard?”
Oikawa tears his gaze from the floor and meets his eyes. He suddenly feels invincible, and he’s able to forget the pain and the pain that comes with being called a boy every single time that he’s on the court. It’s only like that when he’s with Iwaizumi, he realizes.
He’s not surprised with the realization, he’s always felt most like himself when he’s with his Iwa-chan.
When he gets to high school, he just decides to look it up.
He’s tired of not knowing what he is, and wants to find an answer to the thing that’s plagued him since he was little, and wants to finally put a word to the strange feeling in his chest.
He opens a new tab on his computer, not wanting to close the match he was watching in preparation for their next game, and types in I’m not a boy but not entirely a girl.
The first thing that comes up is an article on gender neutral pronouns. He opens it curiously and starts scrolling.
“The pronouns “he' and “she” are most commonly used to refer to people, but they are two binary sides of a spectrum of genders. Simply assuming that one goes by “he” or “she” pronouns is exclusive of transgender, non-binary, and genderqueer/genderfluid individuals who may not be comfortable with these pronouns.”
Nonbinary, he thinks to himself. He’s not exactly sure what it means, but it feels the most right. It sounds like something in between, and after years of thinking and trying to figure this out he knows somewhere in between.
He types nonbinary into the search bar and looks at the result.
“The umbrella term covering all gender identities outside the gender binary. Individuals can and do identify with nonbinary as their specific identity. Many nonbinary people prefer to use they/them pronouns instead of he or she, but they can also use he, she, or even neopronouns.”
“Sub them out,” he imagines his volleyball coach saying. “Go ask them,” he imagines Makki telling one of the first years.
Them.
It feels right, like the makeup had that one time, like it had when he tried on the skirt in the cramped dressing room, but it also feels like something secret, something he has to keep to himself, at least for now. He wants to tell Iwaizumi, but he’s not sure how he’ll react, so he decides to wait.
“This is Oikawa, they’re my best friend,” they imagine Iwaizumi saying. It’s comforting, and the more they say the words, the more they seem to fit them.
“They/them,” they whisper. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t make them want to hurl.
Next they type, can I use multiple pronouns into the search bar. Sometimes she feels okay to them, and sometimes he doesn’t feel that bad, even though they’re so tired of it, it’s okay when certain people, like Iwaizumi, call them that.
They look up nonbinary gender identities, trying to see if there’s a more specific term that fits. Eventually they settle on a label.
Genderfluid.
They have a sort of epiphany.
“A person whose gender changes over time. A gender-fluid person might identify as a woman one day and a man the next, or stay the same a long amount of time but have different days. They might also identify as agender, bigender, or another nonbinary identity”
That’s me, they think, and grin.
I’m nonbinary and genderfluid, and I use they/them pronouns. Sometimes I’m okay with she/her or he/him, they say out loud. No one says anything back, but the words echo into silence and it feels like more than enough. It feels right.
It’s a simple realization, that they love Iwaizumi, not like their struggle with their gender identity. Their mother talks to them about marriage, about settling down with a girlfriend, getting serious, and they realize that the only person they could see themselves with after all that time is him.
They’re in love with their childhood best friend. How cliche. They’ve always loved Iwaizumi, they think, they just didn’t know it was love.
Their sexuality is easier to find out than their gender. They’ve always been okay with liking boys, not repressing it or shoving it down, like they had with being nonbinary, and they’d always known they liked them, just never had time to address it since their time was filled with volleyball and running off with Iwaizumi. It was less taboo then not being cis, and sure, while they’d heard people whisper horrible things about the two boys at his middle school that held hands sometimes, they’d seen healthy relationships between two men in movies and anime.
There had been a bit of a crisis over whether gay people were attracted to nonbinary people, if you could even be gay or bisexual if you were genderfluid, but in the end they find out that they can.
They say it out loud, like they did when they realized they were nonbinary, just to make sure the label fits.
“I’m bisexual. I like boys, and girls.”
It fits, it feels like them, and they feel more sure than they have in a long time.
The next day, they walk up to a boy they know has been with other boys before and asks if he wants to go to the new cafe near their school as soon as class gets out.
He says yes.
He’s cute, but Oikawa spends the whole time thinking of what Iwaizumi would do if he was there with them, and how much he would like the food.
They end the date with a kiss. It’s good, but there are no sparks, there’s no rush, and it’s not like it’s described in romance novels.
Oikawa promises they’ll talk the next day, but doesn’t plan on actually do it.
Fuck, they think. They’re too whipped for Iwaizumi to have any fun with anyone else anymore.
They’re still going to date girls and accept confessions, for after all, they have a reputation to maintain and confession chocolates are always a welcome treat.
They find out that Seijoh has a LGBT club of sorts when they overhear Kunimi reminding Kindaichi that they have to go; it was formed at the start of the year (Oikawa’s third year) and decide to go. They’re finally comfortable with their sexuality, and they don’t necessarily have to come out as nonbinary if they go, they can just say they don’t know what their pronouns are yet or just lie and say he/him.
The meeting is in the art room, early in the morning, thankfully on the one day of the week they don’t have morning practice, and they walk into the room shyly.
They do a double take when they see Akira Kunimi, a second year wing spiker on the volleyball team with him there, and Kunimi gapes right back at him. The wing spiker is holding hands with Yutaro Kindaichi, middle blocker, and Oikawa blinks as they take in the new information. They didn’t even know they were dating until then, and Kindaichi looks a tiny bit afraid to see Oikawa’s reaction.
Oikawa shoots a smile at them that tries to be reassuring, but they guess it comes out more like a grimace, and watches as Kunimi squeezes Kindaichi’s hand, which he guesses is to reassure the taller boy.
A girl walks in, she has a commanding presence and Oikawa guesses she’s the one running the meeting.
She introduces herself as Ito Sakura, the head of the LGBT student association, and says her pronouns are she/they, then asks everyone to introduce themselves with their name and preferred pronouns, and sexuality, if they’re comfortable.
Oikawa waits for it to be their turn, still unsure of what to say. They realize that their attention’s been slipping and turns to face the circle of chairs.
It’s Kunimi’s turn next, and he looks at Oikawa before going, almost like he’s scared his captain’s going to say something bad.
“Uh, my name is Kunimi, my pronouns are he/they, and I’m gay,” they say.
Oikawa smiles at him and Kunimi smiles back, shyly. They’re glad they’re not the only non cis person there, so far all of the people who had gone were cis, or at least appeared to be.
They realize the room’s gone silent, and it’s their turn.
“My- my name’s Oikawa, I’m bisexual, and I’m okay with all pronouns but I prefer they/them,” they say, their voice getting smaller as they speak.
Kunimi full on grins at them, and Oikawa notices it’s the most they’ve ever seen them smile, except for the one time he’d hit a particularly good spike in a match against Karasuno.
Kindaichi scoots his chair closer to Oikawa. “I didn’t know you were nonbinary,” he says.
Oikawa hums noncommittally. “I’m not exactly out to a lot of people. Or anyone, until now.” They look around nervously. “Please don’t tell Iwa-chan, it’s not that I don’t want him to know, I just- I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
“Who do you think I am? Of course I won’t, captain.”
They try to hide their sigh of relief.
“Isn’t it hard,?” he asks, genuinely. “Having your best friend misgender you everyday?”
Oikawa scoffs. “Of course it is. I just don’t know how to tell him.”
If only the words could find their way out of their mouth, they think.
The rest of the meeting turns into a blur, but they enjoy it, talking mostly with Ito and Kindaichi and Kunimi. It’s just another thing that feels right, like the pieces are starting to fall into place.
The days seem to pass slower.
They have more practice matches, they play a few scrimmages against alumni, and practice as much as they can, getting ready for the spring inter-highs.
They still don’t know how to tell Iwaizumi, that they love him, or that they’re genderfluid.
After a particularly rough practice game, they argue. Oikawa saying their tosses had been perfect and it was his fault that they didn’t connect, and Iwaizumi saying the tosses had been to low.
It’s been a long time since they’ve fought, but there’s something under Oikawa’s skin that makes them itch to scream at someone, and the person closest to them is Iwaizumi.
It’s a day where they’re okay with he/him pronouns, but there’s a choking sensation in their throat and they keep thinking, what if I’m faking this?
The feeling stays there until the next day, and then they’re okay again, like it was all a dream.
Iwaizumi and them make up, they knock on his door until he comes out and makes an apology speech, rambling on until Iwaizumi cuts them off and says, “I’m not even mad at you, dumbass.”
They hug, and even though its been a day, Oikawa thinks they’ve missed this.
“This is so unfair, everyone’s against me today,” they say.
It’s been a long day of practice and his juniors won’t listen to him, they’re rowdier than usual, and Oikawa’s having a hard time getting them to stop practicing and lock down the gym,
“I’ll always be on your side,” Iwaizumi replies seriously.
“Why Iwa-chan, is that a confession of love?”
Oikawa says it teasingly, but after the words come out, they realize they mean it and they really want to know. They had been joking, but something in his tone makes it seem like he really could be confessing.
He inhales deeply and says, “What if it is?”
Oikawa stammers. “I-- I’d like that. A lot, actually.” They go red after the statement, heat rising in their cheeks.
“Well then it is. I’m in love with you, have been for ages.”
Oikawa almost drops the water bottle they’re holding and about to take a sip from. They try and compose themself, falling into the usual pattern of using humor to hide their feelings.
“That’s kind of cliche isn’t it? The childhood best friends to lovers trope and all that.”
“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi says, then crushes their lips together.
Oikawa takes a second to freak out over the fact that they’re in the gym and the rest of the team is still there but then they realize they’re kissing Iwaizumi, whose hands are coming up to rest on their neck and tangle in their milk chocolate colored hair.
They’re kissing Iwaizumi, who they’ve loved for so long, who’s been one of the only constants in their entire life, who loves them back now.
Iwaizumi breaks the kiss when he hears cheering and wolf whistles from the team, and Oikawa mourns the loss of contact.
“Not a word,” they say to the team, and then sighs when they start saying they called it years ago, and saying it was about time.
Makki and Mattsun come over to the two and wrap their arms around the pair, congratulating them.
“For the record,” says Makki, “We had a bet going on how long it would take you guys to figure it out, and I thought it would take you all the way until graduation.”
“You won me almost five thousand yen,” Mattsun adds.
Iwaizumi and Oikawa laugh and they grab his hand.
Finally, they think, and they feel happier than they have in a long time. It’s a different kind of joy, the kind they only get from volleyball, from perfect tosses and scarily accurate jump serves.
It’s love.
They’ve been together for almost three months now, and they’re almost done with their third year of high school.
The team still teases them, but Oikawa knows they’re happy for them. The team is almost like a family, always there to support each other.
Kunimi and Kindaichi told the team that they were dating, and Makki and Mattsun have gotten together.
Iwaizumi’s surprised that they were interested in each other, but Oikawa’s known for a long time, having recognized the look in Makki’s eyes when he looks at the one he loves. They see it in themself.
Makki and Mattsun come to the LGBT club, and they know about their pronouns now. Almost half the team is there, they joke, but they’re happy to see that they’re not alone.
Oikawa still hasn’t told Iwaizumi. They don’t want Iwaizumi to leave them, don’t want him to be scared away. It’s a lot to handle, and it’s a big change, one that would be easier to just ignore.
They just don’t want to deal with the revelation that Iwaizumi might not be as supportive of them as he’s always been.
Iwaizumi starts to notice that Oikawa is hiding something.
They haven’t even told him that they go to the LGBT club, they just make up excuses as to where they are on club days,
‘Are you hiding something from me?” he asks.
Oikawa shakes their head no, a pit building in their stomach. This is how it starts, they think, this is how things die between us.
It’s clear that Iwaizumi doesn’t believe them, but he doesn’t push it.
“If you are, I won;t be mad,” he says, and the words surprise them. “If there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll be there for you, and I’ll support you, Tooru.”
The use of their given name makes them inhale sharply.
Oikawa just nods and squeezes his hand.
They’ll tell him soon.
It’s raining the day they decide to do it.
The two of them are inside Oikawa’s house, cuddling on the couch and watching a movie that neither of them are paying attention to; Iwaizumi’s focus is on the hand that’s running through Oikawa’s soft hair and Oikawa’s focused on the hand that’s holding theirs.
The movie turns to background noise completely, and they think, now’s the moment.
They take a deep breath and just say it.
“We need to talk,” they start.
Iwaizumi’s eyes go wide with fear.
“Tooru, please tell me you’re not breaking up with me.”
His voice is lighthearted, but Oikawa knows him well enough to hear the fear in his voice.
“It’s nothing like that, Hajime.”
They take another deep breath, and finally, finally, tell him.
“I’m nonbinary. Genderfluid, to be specific.”
Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, and the silence is deafening, so Oikawa continues speaking.
“I use all pronouns, but I prefer they/them. I’m sorry if this is too hard for you, or if you don’t want to date me anymore because of this but-”
Iwaizumi cuts them off by pulling them into a tight hug.
“I could never,” he says. “I’m so proud of you, and I know how hard it is to tell someone something like that. I’m happy that you told me, and I’ll do my best to get your pronouns right all of the time. If I fuck up, correct me, okay?”
Oikawa sniffles, and fuck, there are tears coming out of their eyes.
It feels like a weight has been lifted off of their chest, and now they can finally breathe.
Graduation is a tearful affair.
Iwaizumi holds their hand all throughout the ceremony, and by the end they’re all crying, even Makki and Mattsun are, at the thought that this really is the end.
No more club practices, no more practice games, no more running to get milk during passing periods, no more lunch out in the courtyard, no more confession chocolates.
Kunimi’s going to be captain next year, Oikawa trusting them to take his place and lead the team.
They can’t really believe they’re saying goodbye.
But for so long, the team has been their whole life, maybe it’s time that they find a new one.
They look over at Iwaizumi and think, a new one with you.
They say it out loud then.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Iwaizumi smiles and kisses them deeply, saying “me too,” after they pull apart.
It's spoken like a promise.
Oikawa Tooru looks up and in the mirror and grins. Iwaizumi comes up behind them and wraps his arms around them. They’ve just washed out the pink streaks of hair dye that’s been sitting in for two hours, and after blow drying it out, it’s finally done.
Makki had decided to dye his hair pink, and had convinced Oikawa to put pink streaks in theirs as well.
They sat on the floor of his bathroom in the apartment the two of them shared with Iwaizumi and Mattsun.
“You look adorable,” Iwaizumi says and presses a kiss to their cheek. “Best partner I could ask for.”
Oikawa blushes and presses a kiss to his cheek.
“You flatter me, Iwa-chan.”
“I’m supposed to, that’s my job as your boyfriend.”
Boyfriend.
In most ways, their relationship is the same as it was when they were younger, they play volleyball together, they help each other with their classes, they hang out with Makki and Mattsun, just now they kiss and sleep in the same bed. It’s natural, loving Iwaizumi, almost like volleyball is, pressing their lips to his feels like making a perfect toss and hearing the resounding spike a few seconds after.
Loving him is like falling, but knowing he’s always going to be there to catch him.