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when iwaizumi strides up to you, there’s a piece of crumpled paper in his hand and a slightly confused expression on his face. you already know what the note says, you’d written and re-written it at least six times before stuffing the final draft into his shoe cubby between classes.
even from a few feet away, you can make out your own neat scrawl in blue ink:
meet me outside of gymnasium b at 5 pm today if you're not SCARED
ps: this is a FIGHT, NOT a confession
pps: prepare to eat dirt, iwaizumi hajime
and you had meant every word.
iwaizumi infuriated you. everything about him made you want to scream in his face. like, full-on holler until he backed up and continued backing the fuck up until it would be physically impossible for him to back up any further. maybe he’d back himself off the coast of japan and disappear into the pacific, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
“so,” he begins, holding out the note in between his forefinger and thumb. “are you the one who wants to fight?”
“yeah, that’s me,” you say, turning your nose up at the taller boy.
he sighs, running a hand through the mess of spikes he called hair. you wonder if it’s as bristly as it looks.
“should’ve known,” he groans. “look, i can’t fight you.”
“why not?” you challenge, your fingers curling and uncurling at your sides. there’s a sort of tension building in you, no doubt elicited by his dismissal of your proposal.
he gives you a look like you’ve finally lost it. and maybe you have, but the day isn’t getting any younger and you wanted to make your point before you were expected home at sundown.
“why do you want to do this again?” he asks, folding his arms in front of him. “i mean like, besides the fact that you’re so clearly doing this to get closer to me.”
and there it is, that subtle smirk that made you want to do this in the first place.
“i do not like you,” you hiss, clenching your fists. “that’s disgusting.”
he raises a brow, “is it?”
“are you calling me a liar?”
“no,” he replies, his teeth glinting in the late afternoon sun.
you swallow. “you’re insufferable”
“well,” he exhales, ignoring that last statement. “let’s get this over with.”
he holds a palm up, the tanned skin calloused and rough-looking from hours of practice. “you can punch me right here,” he says, pointing to it with his other hand. “as hard as you can, just give me everything you got in one punch.”
“w-wha-? that’s not a fight,” you protest.
he sighs. “if someone sees us, we’re both going to get in a lot of trouble. plus, you really seem like you want to hit me so this might be like stress relief for you or something.”
you pout, contemplating the boy in front of you. it was true, you did want to hit him and you did want to get in as least trouble as possible. however, you wanted some kind of retaliation. some kind of proof that this aggression you felt toward him wasn’t so one-sided.
“fine,” you sniff and he looks entirely unfazed.
“ready when you are.”
reeling back, you steel yourself before delivering an imprecise blow to the centre of his palm. the impact is almost soundless and you nearly veer off target, feeling your wrist bend uncomfortably as you contact his hand.
you step back, drawing away, and there’s an odd look on his face. something like stifled amusement.
"that was...cute," he smirks, glancing at the spot where you'd punched him. "i almost felt something."
"fuck you," you scowl. "i'd like to see what you can do, jackass."
he cocks his head to the side, appraising you for a second. he rolls his shoulders back and stuffs your note into the pocket of his uniform pants before taking a step forward.
you back up instinctually, surprised by the sudden action. you can't believe this asshole. was he really going to hit you? on school grounds?
you stumble over the uneven gravel, the soles of your dress shoes scuffing against the rough ground. panicking, your eyes flash to iwaizumi's but there's a sort of determination in his gaze that causes fear to bubble in your chest.
bracing yourself for the worst, you put your arms up in a pathetic show of self-defence. you know it won't stop him, but hey, at least you might walk away without a black eye and maybe even some dignity.
your back contacts something hard and you almost yelp as the slatted metal wall presses into your shoulder blades. there’s a loud sound as a hand slams against the wall, too close to your head, and before you know it, iwaizumi has you effectively caged against the outside of gymnasium b.
he smirks again and you flush furiously under his gaze. "like i said before," he says, his voice low and infuriatingly even. "you're way too cute to fight."
“s-shut up,” you stammer, your cheeks hot as your eyes meet his. with him leaning over you, his face is shadowed and intense-looking, with something more pointed behind the surface-level smugness you can see written all over him.
“just admit it,” he says, bringing his other hand up to tilt your chin towards him. his touch is careful, but his skin is still rough and much too warm.
he leans down and his breath ghosts hot and close on your lips.
“just admit that you like me.”