Work Text:
Oikawa was everything to Iwaizumi. The beginning of his story, his first friend, his childhood revolved around the friendship he had with Oikawa.
Oikawa was a blessing in disguise, to Iwaizumi. Chatty and willing to put up with Iwaizumi’s quirks and fill the silences.
They met at a park. Just a normal park on a normal day, and Iwaizumi didn’t like change… but he was different from the start.
“My name is Oikawa Tooru,” he said brightly, sliding next to him on the bench. Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but that was fine. Oikawa was warm and talkative enough for the both of them.
“Iwaizumi, why don’t you ever talk?” he asked after half a day of jabbering on next to him about aliens and his math homework and everything else he thought about in those moments.
Iwaizumi paused, hoping and praying that he can be kind back to this other boy.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, expecting Oikawa to stand and leave.
Instead, he sat up straighter. “Okay!”
Iwaizumi was the quiet one as they grew up, preferring to think, go unseen, unheard until he desired it.
His mother, worried but not overly so (she was busy, it was her way of life) took him to a child psychologist.
Iwaizumi didn’t remember most of the visit, all he knows is that he left with a new label.
“The doctor says I’m selectively mute,” Iwaizumi said to Oikawa the day after.
“There’s nothing wrong with that! I’ll talk enough for both of us!” Oikawa declared in a way that made Iwaizumi’s ribs want to break free. He knocked on his chest as he grinned, Oikawa smiling with him.
They continued on for a while, just like that, Oikawa supporting Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi supporting Oikawa.
And then there was another label attached to Iwaizumi, one that seemed somehow more dangerous than the last.
“I’m autistic,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa peered at him.
“And you think this is bad?” he asked, tilting his head just a little.
“I mean, yeah. It’s just another thing I have to put up with,” he explained.
Oikawa rolled his eyes.
“Your brain working differently isn’t a bad thing!” Oikawa said, practically oozing confidence.
“But-“
“No buts! You’re my best friend. I’m not going to abandon you over something as small as this. I’m staying with you.”
The next day, somehow the entire school knew about Iwaizumi. (Probably the teachers… going on and on about his new accommodations).
Oikawa sat next to him the entire day, and the day after, and after that. He lost so many friends that way. No one liked Iwaizumi anymore, and by effect, Oikawa.
“Y’know, Oikawa, you could’ve been cool. If you drop that mute freak, we might just forgive you.”
Iwaizumi wouldn’t have blamed him if Oikawa left. Sure, he would’ve been sad, destroyed even, but Oikawa was facing just as much bullying as Iwaizumi, sometimes more. Mostly more.
Because Oikawa wouldn’t let anyone touch him as long as he was nearby, always standing up for him and standing in the way of injuries.
“Bold of you to assume that Iwaizumi isn’t cool. I’m staying with him!”
Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat on the curb, Iwaizumi wincing whenever he looked at Oikawa. Feeling bad about all the bruises decorating his arms and his face…
Oikawa was too pretty to have all those bruises.
But he wore them with pride.
“I’m not going to leave you Iwa-chan. They’re dumb for even thinking that I would,” he declared, perhaps over-confident.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Oikawa cuffed him lightly on the head.
“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“Okay.”
When they got out of that school, things got better for them.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi were still friends (“Always,” Oikawa reassured him). Going into middle school, nobody knew about Iwaizumi’s diagnoses except the teachers, and that was good with him.
However, it did mean that Iwaizumi was free to throw himself into fitness and sports, wanting to get stronger so that Oikawa would never be forced to protect him again.
They joined volleyball, and dedicated as much time as they could to the sport. Oikawa poured his heart and soul into setting, and to Iwaizumi, there was nothing more satisfying than hitting one of Oikawa’s sets.
Rumors of them being a couple sprung up a few times, but were quickly stomped out by Oikawa’s growing confidence and flirtatious attitude towards the girls in their class. Iwaizumi didn’t have any issues with that, but he was starting to get a little bit of a fan base, and Iwaizumi… wasn’t very happy with that. But Oikawa clearly felt good, and confident.
Then Kageyama came to their school. And that confidence plummeted. Iwaizumi practically watched it go.
All Iwaizumi could see was how similar they were.
He could feel the drive in them, read Kageyama just as easily, but Kageyama was quiet, like Iwaizumi. He couldn’t replace Oikawa, not that easily. He would need to work hard and develop relationships…
But Oikawa took personal offense to Kageyama’s genius.
“Crappykawa, we should get home,” he tried to convince him one late night.
“Sorry Iwa-chan! I’m going to be here for awhile longer!” he did his dumb peace sign and that stupid smile that Iwaizumi could see right through, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.
So he sat. And waited for Oikawa to finish up. Just like he always did.
Oikawa almost hit Kageyama.
Iwaizumi didn’t like confrontation. But he caught the hand and lectured him.
“What do you know, Iwaizumi?” Oikawa snarled out of pain. Even though Iwaizumi knew that he wasn’t mad at him, it still hurt. Badly.
Everyone always said that Iwaizumi was Oikawa’s pillar, and that was true, Iwaizumi would support Oikawa to the end of the earth, keep him upright when he suffered loss and support him when he needed help or just a lending hand.
But it went hand in hand. If Iwaizumi was a pillar, then Oikawa was his foundation, keeping Iwaizumi from floating away and keeping him from hurting himself and keeping him steady so that Iwaizumi could in turn support Oikawa.
So when Oikawa...
Iwaizumi shut himself down a little. He couldn’t meet Oikawa’s eyes- when had he gotten so tall? He tugged at his fingertips before he glanced at the door.
“Wait, no, Iwa-“ Oikawa started, but Iwaizumi was out the door, skidding down the halls, faintly hearing the sounds of Oikawa’s footsteps behind him.
As much as Iwaizumi wanted to stop and talk to him- friends were supposed to talk, have conversations, he knew this, but it was so hard all the time...- Iwaizumi couldn’t slow down, not for a second, because if he did he would be caught by the swirling emotions that threatened the fragile peacefulness of his life.
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelled behind him, catching up as Iwaizumi hurtled around a corner, overcompensating and hitting the floor.
“Iwa... Iwa-chan?” he panted, plopping to the floor beside Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi opened his mouth but he couldn’t speak.
“Iwa-chan? I’m sorry,” he said. Iwaizumi couldn’t speak. Anxiety coursed through his veins, only making it more difficult to even think about getting words out of his mouth.
“Can you speak?” Oikawa asked, shifting to get a little closer to Iwaizumi. He shook his head and Oikawa gave him a little, but genuine, smile.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to speak for me to be your friend. I did want to apologize though. I shouldn’t have said that. It was just mean of me, and you were right.” Oikawa shifted a bit closer and placed his hands in his lap.
Iwaizumi stared at him for a minute before cuffing him on the head.
“Hey! What was that for?” Oikawa exclaimed, frantically fixing his hair. Iwaizumi shot him a look. “Good point. Nevermind.”
They walked to Oikawa’s house together that night, growing up just a little bit more as Oikawa talked endlessly about volleyball and what he was doing wrong and right, talking about their next practice match and where he wanted to go with his life.
Their relationship grew as they did, their bond strengthening until it was stronger than either of them ever could’ve imagined, able to read each other at a glance and know exactly how to fix the problem that arose.
Iwaizumi became the... “Oikawa-whisperer”, the volleyball team always coming to him when Oikawa was in a bad mood, and Iwaizumi would slide up to him, give him a water bottle-
“Shittykawa, take a break, you look exhausted.” and sat next to him on the bench until Oikawa confessed to him about what was bothering him.
Most of the time, Oikawa didn’t feel like enough. Which was an easy enough fix.
“Tooru. Trust me. You’re the strongest person on the team. You always say that you believe in us, and maybe you need to believe in yourself too.”
“Do you believe in me Iwa-chan?”
“Always.”
And Oikawa would be back to normal, fired up in ways that Iwaizumi could only watch from the sidelines and smile at.
Oikawa was like the sun, brightening the way for everyone on their team to perform their best, including Iwaizumi.
And Iwaizumi? He just wanted to keep the sun safe.
It happened in the middle of a match. Oikawa set the ball. A perfect set, a beautiful set. Iwaizumi spiked it and it landed, perfectly in the center of their defenses.
But Iwaizumi didn’t even have time to rejoice.
He landed, and realized his other half was on the ground.
“Tooru? Oikawa!” Iwaizumi gasped out, already beginning to panic as he raced towards Oikawa, who was on the ground, clutching his knee as his back shook with pain.
“T-tooru,” he whispered, crouching down next to him, hands hovering over him in a desperate attempt to comfort Oikawa.
He raised his head to get his coach, to get Oikawa help, to call an ambulance, something, anything…
He couldn’t get the words out. A shiver ran down his spine as he shook out his hands a little and attempted to speak again with no luck.
Oikawa was driven to the hospital, and Hanamaki sat next to him in the coach’s car as they followed after him.
“Are you okay?” Hanamaki asked, and Iwaizumi tried, he really did, but he couldn’t say anything.
He settled for shaking his head no.
Hanamaki shook his head slowly.
“What’s happening?” he asked. Iwaizumi yanked his phone out and typed out. ‘Stressed, can’t talk’.
Hanamaki slowly nodded.
“Uh... is there anything I can do?” he asked.
Iwaizumi just shook his head again.
‘Oikawa’.
“Yeah... you two are... something,” Hanamaki said softly, a small smile on his face as he stared at his hands.
Iwaizumi smiled a little as well, shaking out his hands and staring out the window for the rest of the time until they pulled up to the hospital, his coach dropping him off in front of the door for Iwaizumi to go in with Hanamaki while he found somewhere to park.
Iwaizumi raced up to the receptionist desk, and the kind, tired looking lady smiled at him.
“Here to visit? Name?” she asked, and Iwaizumi opened his mouth before he remembered.
“Oikawa, Tooru; he’s Iwaizumi Hajime,” Hanamaki supplied, coming up behind Iwaizumi quickly.
“Do you have an ID?” she asked. Iwaizumi fished through his pockets, coming up with his school ID and handing it to her as quickly as she could take it.
She glanced at the ID, and then at him, and smiled.
“Well, Iwaizumi, you can go up to the fourth floor, room 48, take elevator B,” she said, pointing around the corner.
Iwaizumi glanced back at Hanamaki.
“Go, I’ll be along right after you,” he said, pulling out his own ID.
Without another word, Iwaizumi was racing to the elevator, punching in the number for the fourth floor and standing impatiently, listening to the soothing elevator music that played.
He got to the right floor, and basically ran down the hall, almost colliding with a nurse as she came out of room 48.
“Iwa-chan?” she guessed, smiling. Iwaizumi nodded quickly. “Oikawa has been talking about you this entire time. Go ahead in,” she said and Iwaizumi slipped past her to see Oikawa on a hospital bed, his knee wrapped tightly and iced, elevated up on two pillowed.
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed brightly.
Iwaizumi practically collapsed in relief, falling into the chair next to Oikawa’s bed.
“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked and Iwaizumi shrugged, reaching for Oikawa’s hand that he offered up willingly for Iwaizumi to play with his fingers. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Iwaizumi swallowed and shook his head.
“It’s not okay. It was a bad landing but I should’ve...” Oikawa started, and Iwaizumi looked up abruptly, glaring at Oikawa. He chuckled. “Same old Iwa-chan. Sorry. I’ll be out of here soon enough, then I just need to recover,” he explained and Iwaizumi nodded.
Minute by minute, Iwaizumi began to calm down, exposure to Oikawa does that for Iwaizumi.
“S-sorry,” Iwaizumi stammered out.
Hanamaki slipped into the room.
“Don’t apologize Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said and Hanamaki smiled.
“You two,” he said, chuckling a little.
“What about us?” Oikawa said defensively, trying to square-up from his position on the bed.
“You’re good for each other. You compliment each other, is all,” Hanamaki said, hands raised in defeat.
Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi.
“Yeah.”
“We do,” he tacked on and Oikawa smiled at him.
Oikawa was released the day after that, instructed to be careful on his knee and to use the crutches he was prescribed.
(The nurse looked at Iwaizumi while she was explaining that, as though he would keep Oikawa in line -which he would).
“Iwa-chan! Since you’re such a devoted friend, you need to carry my books,” Oikawa said in his lazy, giddy sort of way.
“Shut up, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said, glaring. He carried the books anyway, since Oikawa was a cripple and wouldn’t do anything for himself regardless of how serious the injury was or wasn’t.
Iwaizumi can see it now, in the future, when Oikawa would pretend his knee was hurting just so he wouldn’t ruin his “aesthetic” by carrying his books. And Iwaizumi would carry them. Every time.
But Iwaizumi got really good at reading Oikawa in this time, even better than he was before, needing to know exactly when Oikawa was in pain so that he could stop him from damaging himself even more.
That’s why Iwaizumi knew that there was something wrong with Oikawa the moment he stepped into school that day. He could see it in the way he walked, the lines on his face, the tightness in his shoulders.
But if Oikawa hadn’t told Iwaizumi before he got to school, then would he tell him now without pestering?
Probably not.
“Shittykawa? Is everything okay?” he asked, only to be brushed off by Oikawa with a sharp, “I’m fine, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi swallowed, feeling uneasy. Change was in the air, and Iwaizumi never did well with change.
“Oikawa?” He tried again.
“Iwa-chan. Let me be,” Oikawa said with one of his disgustingly false smiles.
So Iwaizumi waited until the end of the day, to ask one last time.
“Oi. Tooru, talk to me,” Iwaizumi pleaded.
He was silent and Iwaizumi wanted to go back in time, to when this first started.
“Tooru,” he said again.
“I’m sorry,” Oikawa whispered, unusually serious, his bangs covering his eyes.
“What? Why? Tooru?” Iwaizumi’s voice was edging into frantic, sure, he was a little happy now that Oikawa had actually said something but... Iwaizumi didn’t see this coming. And that made him nervous. Oikawa was always the person who was stable. Subtle growth that Iwaizumi could catalogue and memorize. Now? Here? This was a side of Oikawa Iwaizumi had never seen, making Iwaizumi feel like his entire life was derailing, going much too fast to recover properly.
“I’m not... you can’t... you don’t understand.”
Iwaizumi was thrown off his axis and he was going to break. Pop. End up as scattered pieces on the floor. It was all too much and he was running out of room to put the chaos.
“Tooru... I know you better than anyone-“ he started, but Oikawa whirled around.
“You couldn’t possibly understand. You don’t know me as well as you think you do, and right now, you just need to leave me alone.”
Iwaizumi was stunned into pained silence.
“What?” he croaked out.
“Iwaizumi,” Oikawa started. (There was no Iwa-chan. Why...?) “I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
Then he walked away.
And Iwaizumi’s world caved in.
Iwaizumi was a good runner. In some alternate universe, he probably joined track and field instead of volleyball.
All he knew was that he was running now.
Pouring rain pelted his face and his clothing, easily seeping through the thin shirt he was wearing. A shirt Oikawa had given him.
He ran faster.
Iwaizumi didn’t know where he was running, only that he was.
He had too many emotions in his body, too much energy, too much bouncing around his head, too many textures tracing his insides and his head felt full of cotton. It was all just too much.
Iwaizumi tripped and hit the ground roughly, snapping himself out of some of the haze.
Oikawa didn’t want to be friends anymore.
Oikawa was abandoning him.
Oikawa was done with him, just like Oikawa was done with everyone else that tried to get close to him.
Weakly, Iwaizumi knocked on his sternum, listening to the sound resound through his chest, bringing him an ounce of peace, a way to get some of the emotion redispersed instead of rocketing through his body.
So he knocked again. And again, each time growing in strength as he relished in the ease it brought.
Oikawa was gone, but Iwaizumi was his own person, he could live with this. He could deal with this. His fists squeezed tight, nails digging into his palms.
Oikawa would always gently pull at his fingers and slide his hand into Iwaizumi’s hands so that he wouldn’t hurt himself.
Iwaizumi’s hands released themselves rapidly, and he reached up to tug at his hair and claw at his scalp, breaths coming faster and faster as the emotion drowned him.
His chest was tight, he couldn’t breath, he was in pain, he was lost, and he didn’t have Oikawa.
The last of his air huffed out of his chest.
He didn’t have Oikawa. He had to do this by himself.
So Iwaizumi stood on shaking legs, almost falling over again as he registered the cold rain again. His head twitched forward and he shook out his hands once. Twice. A few times, falling into one of his easier stims.
“I can do this,” he whispered to himself before he started to run again.
Running made things better, but so did the knocking on his chest, which he did periodically as he ran.
He needed to go somewhere. Somewhere better. Get out of the rain. Get out of the gloom and get his emotions out.
He ended up at Hanamaki’s house, not realizing that he was even at the door until he knocked.
There was a little bit of commotion from the inside.
“Hello? Who’s- Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki said, confused.
“Can...” he couldn’t get his mouth to form the words, and he didn’t have Oikawa to help him. He had to do this. He opened his mouth again only to close it again. His throat was tight, why here, when he just needed help?
Of course he knew why.
“Do you want to come in?” Hanamaki asked, and Iwaizumi just nodded.
“Takahiro? What’s going on?” a female voice said, and a woman came around the corner.
“Mom, Iwaizumi is here,” Hanamaki said. His mom took one look at Iwaizumi and her mouth flattened into a line.
“Takahiro, go grab some clean clothes and some towels,” she said, and that spurred Hanamaki into motion.
He left and Iwaizumi’s chest only squeezed tighter.
“Iwaizumi? You’re usually with Oikawa. Did something happen?” she asked gently.
He swallowed, looked down, couldn’t meet her eyes, but nodded a little, wishing he had another way of communicating.
“Would you like a pen and paper?” she asked like she knew what he was thinking. He nodded again, grateful, just in time for Hanamaki to come around the corner, holding a towel out to him.
“What... happened?” he asked, plopping down on the floor across from Iwaizumi.
He winced, one hand clenching as he used the other to knock on his sternum to soothe the ache in his chest. He didn’t have Oikawa anymore.
Hanamaki reached forward.
“Don’t... don’t?” he said questioningly, and Iwaizumi winced, lowering his hand to pull at his fingers and crack his knuckles.
His mom came back in with a pad of paper and a pen, handing them to Iwaizumi.
He latched into them instantly, quickly spelling out his apologies.
“You don’t have to apologize, but we would like to know what’s going on?” his mother was so unbelievably kind.
He started to write, but his explanation stopped after he wrote ‘Oikawa’.
“Something happened?” Hanamaki said, voice lowering.
Iwaizumi nodded, fiddling with the pen, beginning to pull it apart so he could put it back together.
He wishes he could do that with this day, take it all apart, figure out what went wrong and then put it all back together, good as new.
That wasn’t possible.
“Takahiro, take Iwaizumi up to the bathroom upstairs for him to change, and set up the futon in your room. Iwaizumi, do you have anyone I need to call?” she asked.
His parents were away on a business trip, and normally Iwaizumi would be staying with Oikawa…
He shook his head no.
And with that, he was guided upstairs by Hanamaki, shown the bathroom.
As he changed, he had time to think. Like he didn’t already have enough of that.
Oikawa being gone was already taking its toll on Iwaizumi and he didn’t know how to make it better.
So Iwaizumi would have to adapt and overcome. Right?
He laid down on the futon, still trying to think as Hanamaki came in and sat on his bed.
“Goodnight Iwaizumi. I hope your tomorrow is better than today,” he said, before turning off the light.
He was almost asleep when he heard Hanamaki leave the room, his steps gentle on the ground.
Iwaizumi closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but was promptly interrupted by the sound of Hanamaki’s voice outside.
“What the fuck have you done?”
Iwaizumi swallowed roughly. He didn’t want people to be mad at Oikawa. He really didn’t. Oikawa didn’t do well when people were mad at him.
And so he laid there. Listening as Hanamaki drilled into Oikawa through the phone, not letting him get a word in edgewise.
Iwaizumi turned on the light, and wrote ‘you didn’t have to yell at him’, and waited for when Hanamaki came back inside. He stopped in the doorway of the room.
“I thought you were asleep.”
‘I wasn’t.’ He scrawled messily.
“I realize that now, but Oikawa had it coming,” Hanamaki said.
‘No, he didn’t.’
“Yes, he did. Look at what he’s done to you. He’s obviously hurting you, and he clearly knows it. He deserved it. Now he knows that he needs to make it right,” Hanamaki said, crossing his arms.
Iwaizumi had only just started writing when Hanamaki’s jaw clenched.
“I can’t believe this. You’re still defending him. After everything he’s done to you already, you’re still defending Oikawa.”
Iwaizumi dropped the pen. What was he doing?
“You just realized, didn’t you?” Hanamaki crouched down to look at Iwaizumi. “He has done nothing to deserve the amount of care you give him.”
And Iwaizumi... couldn’t even begin to try and explain how wrong he was.
Oikawa had given him everything. He’d given him a friend, love, kept him safe and devoted himself.
‘You’re wrong’. He scrawled. Holding up the pad of paper for Hanamaki to see.
Hanamaki scoffed.
“Whatever you say. But he’s still functioning, and you’re mute and staying at my house.”
Iwaizumi didn’t sleep much, waking up early to run home, the cold air coating his lungs in a way it didn’t normally.
Oikawa always insisted on him wearing a scarf, despite the fact that Iwaizumi told him repeatedly that he didn’t need one.
Why did everything remind him of Oikawa? Why was he so attached?
He arrived at practice feeling even worse than the night before. Like he was dragging weights behind him. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak, could barely move... of course Hanamaki noticed.
He approached quickly with Matsukawa at his side.
“Are you okay?” Hanamaki asked, and Iwaizumi nodded slowly, tightening his shoes as tight as he could in an attempt to ground himself.
“You don’t have to practice today,” he explained, and Matsukawa was looking at him, very confused. Iwaizumi shook his head slightly, trying to rattle his thoughts into place. He simultaneously didn’t want to be there, and wanted to get out some of his emotions... but it wasn’t a good out unless Oikawa set to him in that perfect way he does, like he knows exactly what he wants and needs.
He unlaced his shoes and made his way back towards the entrance of the gym.
He could feel Oikawa staring at him as he left, but couldn’t bring himself to go back in.
Instead, he went home. He went home, and just laid on the floor until he could feel gravity pressing down on him from above.
A welcome relief from the anxiety crushing him.
Iwaizumi swallowed roughly and tried to figure out where his life would go without Oikawa or volleyball.
(He couldn’t think of anything).
At the next morning’s practice, Oikawa wouldn’t look at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi didn’t really want to be there.
But he did, in a way, because this gym made him feel just a little bit calmer. Not by much, especially because Oikawa was still there and still ignoring him, but every other person in the gym wanted Iwaizumi to be there, and that was worth everything after his best friend didn’t want him.
Kindaichi received the ball, sending it to Oikawa, who set it, the ball landing on the other side of the net triumphantly.
He looked to Iwaizumi hopefully, and Iwaizumi opened his mouth in an attempt to be proud and encourage him, the words got stuck in his throat.
He smiled and nodded as supportingly as he could.
Kindaichi smiled back, but the happiness in his eyes faded a little bit.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Kindaichi said, and Iwaizumi nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing a little bit.
Practiced continued on, little prompts that Iwaizumi easily recognized as attempts for him to gain his voice back kept hitting him, whether it was Kindaichi getting an excellent block in, or Kunimi congratulating him on a good receive, or even Matsukawa handing him his water.
He couldn’t get the words to form or the pressure in his chest to ease, so he was forced to smile and write on the paper pad Hanamaki’s mom had given him.
Oikawa didn’t set to Iwaizumi for the entire practice. Seeming to want to ignore Iwaizumi for the entire time. He didn’t get away with it, the couch got mad at Oikawa for wasting opportunities that he could’ve used when he set to someone other than Iwaizumi.
It hurt. And Iwaizumi couldn’t even yell at Oikawa himself. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Oikawa in the eyes.
Oikawa was his person. His safe person. The person who never judged him, no matter what, but now he was alone. Alone physically and alone mentally.
Iwaizumi was cornered at the end of the day by Oikawa, the rest of the volleyball team leaving as quickly as they could. It was obviously set up, most likely by Hanamaki and Matsukawa- you could always rely on those two to get involved in your life, for better or for worse.
Oikawa seemed to be at a loss for words, and Iwaizumi couldn’t fill the silence on his own, not when he could barely breathe and his throat felt like it was going to pop.
“Iwaizumi... I’m sorry,” Oikawa said softly. Iwaizumi looked down, cursing the fact that even this little bit of attention was making his chest ease up and words dance on the tip of his tongue.
“T-Tooru, why?” Iwaizumi said.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again and Iwaizumi swallowed, tugging at his fingers.
“Why?” he asked again.
“I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore,” Oikawa explained.
“What?” The words were coming faster now, easier. They always did when he was near Oikawa.
“I’m acearo,” he blurted out.
“What?” Iwaizumi said again. Oikawa looked down, insecurity tracing his features.
“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have- I’m just going to go,” his sentences stopped and started and he stood abruptly, beginning to move away. Iwaizumi, lightning fast, before he even realized it, was gripping Oikawa’s wrist.
“Is that what this is all about?” he asked, the longest thing he’d said in the past week. Words were impossibly easy with Oikawa.
“I mean... why would you want someone who was broken?” Oikawa asked, pausing only briefly before continuing. “Broken physically and mentally. My knee is screwed, and I can’t love anyone, how much worse can I get?” Oikawa choked on the last word, shifting his weight onto his other leg.
“Am I broken?” Iwaizumi asked, letting go of Oikawa’s hand to tap lightly on his sternum.
“What? No, of course not, has someone told you that you are? I’ll beat them up,” Oikawa declared.
“If I’m not broken, then you aren’t.”
Oikawa paused.
“That’s... that’s different,” he said, and Iwaizumi shook his head.
“No. Out of the two of us... I’d say I’m more “broken” by your definition. I’m autistic. Selectively mute. Too quiet. Too serious. I’m weird. But you stuck with me. Why?” he asked.
“Well. I mean... you’re my friend, I wasn’t just... I care about you. Those things don’t matter in the long run,” Oikawa explained.
“Then why don’t you believe me when I tell you the same thing?” Iwaizumi asked and Oikawa was silent.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, one last time as tears welled in his eyes.
Oikawa slept over at Iwaizumi’s house that night, and they talked, just like normal.
“I’m glad that I have you back,” Iwaizumi mumbled, picking up Oikawa’s hand from beside him, just to fiddle with his fingers.
“Me too,” Oikawa said, offering his other hand to Iwaizumi as well. Iwaizumi just gripped the hand he had tighter.
“You scared me,” he said, focusing on Oikawa’s hands, the smooth skin, the one little divot on his pointer finger from when it broke.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Oikawa said, shifting a little closer until his forehead hit the top of Iwaizumi’s head.
They both sat and stared at their hands.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Iwaizumi said.
“Me either. I need to stay with you,” Oikawa whispered.
“Me too... I love you,” Iwaizumi was hesitant at admitting this, but he forged on ahead, because if he couldn’t say it to Oikawa, he couldn’t say it to anyone.
“I love you too,” his words were soft, whispered to Iwaizumi only.
“Let me stay with you?” Iwaizumi asked, practically pleading. Oikawa looked up.
“Always.”
Iwaizumi didn’t know what that made them, but that was good enough for him.
The next morning, they walked to school together, Oikawa smoothing Iwaizumi’s hair in a desperate attempt to calm the spikes.
“It’s not going to work Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa rolled his eyes, tapping his forehead once before backing away.
They stopped in front of the club room only to be intercepted by Hanamaki and Matsukawa.
“I’m glad to see you two have worked out your differences,” Hanamaki said, turning to Iwaizumi. “You have worked out your differences, right?”
“Yeah... we did,” Iwaizumi said quietly, tapping gently on Oikawa’s shoulder.
“Ready for practice?” Oikawa asked, grinning as brightly as Iwaizumi had ever seen him.
Their team raced into the gym, pulling on their shoes and setting up the net.
“It’s a good thing you worked out your differences,” their coach said, and Iwaizumi nodded.
“It was only a matter of time right? We go together, that’s just the way it is, we will always recover,” Oikawa said brightly before practically skipping past the gym.
They had to worry about the future at some point. Talk about other emotions. Go to college, form their own careers…
“Are you coming, Iwa-chan?” he called.
That could wait.
Iwaizumi chased after him, knowing deep inside that he would always support and follow Oikawa.