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Tooru is getting ready to go to Iwaizumi’s house (where he plans to celebrate his eighteenth birthday by annoying Iwa-chan and then saying something that has been on his mind lately, maybe, maybe) when his sister shows up with son and husband in tow and announces that they’re going to have dinner together.
“But,” Tooru protests, “Iwa-chan is waiting for me.”
Predictably, she smiles, grabs hold of his ear, twists it, tells him that he needs to call Iwaizumi and tell him to come over then, doesn’t he. “This kid,” she complains to their mother. “Here I am, taking time out of my busy schedule to celebrate his birthday with him, and he says he has plans. I even brought him a cake.”
Tooru calls Iwaizumi because there is no point in arguing with Nee-chan. She always wins.
A few hours and one uncomfortable dinner later, they are all seated around the ice-cream cake, which has been placed on the coffee table in the living room. Tooru smiles, blows out all the candles in one go, and cuts his cake. His sister and mom sing the happy birthday song.
His parents go to bed afterwards. Tooru’s brother-in-law dozes off in an armchair. Takeru takes out his DS. Tooru turns to look at Iwaizumi and smiles when Iwaizumi glares at him.
Iwaizumi isn’t too fond of birthday parties. He has been moody all evening, although this could be because Tooru tried to make him wear a party hat during dinner.
Tooru hands him a large slice of cake, and Iwaizumi mouths, “I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Thank you,” Tooru says to his sister. “It was very kind of you to arrange this party. Right, Iwa-chan? Now, Nee-chan, after we finish our cake, Iwa-chan and I have to go practice. We can’t lose to Karasuno in the Spring High, right?”
Nee-chan puts an arm around his shoulders, says, “I was going to buy you something nice for your birthday, but I didn’t have time.”
“That’s alright. The cake is great, right, Iwa-chan?”
Iwaizumi says, “Yeah. It’s great. Thanks, Nee-chan.”
She smiles at them as she says, “You boys are so sweet. Okay, let’s do this. We’ll all go around and say something nice about Tooru. You first, Takeru. Say something nice about your uncle.”
“Um.” Takeru looks at Tooru. “Uh. Tooru bought me four popsicles yesterday.”
“Takeru!” Tooru protests. “That was supposed to be our secret.”
Nee-chan says, “Tooru, you’re paying for his next dentist visit. Okay, next, Hajime-chan. And it can’t be about volleyball.”
Iwaizumi’s cheeks and ears turn a dull red. Sometimes Nee-chan has the best ideas, Tooru reflects. Now Iwaizumi will have to be nice, vocally, and in front of people who aren’t their teammates. He’s been very rude lately, not wanting to acknowledge that they are the best of friends, that they have a perfect understanding of each other, that he finds Tooru very attractive and probably wants to kiss him and more.
“Well?” Tooru asks, leaning closer to Iwaizumi. “Tell me, Iwa-chan. Don’t be shy.”
“Who’s being shy?!” Iwaizumi moves to the other end of the couch. “I can’t think of anything, that’s all. You’ve been annoying as fu-, um, very annoying this year, Ass- um,” he glances at Takeru, “Oikawa.”
“Oh.” Nee-chan frowns. “Is that right, Tooru? Have you been bothering your friend?”
“Not at all,” Tooru says.
“He has,” Iwaizumi says. “He needs disciplining.”
“Well.” Nee-chan sighs. “Please forgive me for burdening you, Hajime-chan, but I’ll have to leave the disciplining to you.”
“Great, no problem,” Iwaizumi says. He stands up. “Gotta go. Kaa-san wants me home before ten.”
Tooru moves to follow, but Iwaizumi motions for him to sit and then pulls out a badly wrapped gift from behind a couch pillow. He must have hidden it upon arriving, while Tooru was in the kitchen. Tooru grins at him.
Iwaizumi tosses the gift to Tooru, says, “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says.
After Iwaizumi leaves, Nee-chan says, “My turn. Little brother, one good thing about you is that I can always count on you to be entertaining.” She pulls his ear again. “What are you waiting for, brat? Just tell him.”
Tooru smiles. “Tell him what?”
“Whatever.” She sticks her finger into the melting ice cream, licks her finger. “Remember, I tried to help.”
***
After his sister leaves that night, Tooru goes into his bedroom and opens Iwaizumi’s gift. He is very surprised when he sees that it is a plain spiral notebook.
For Iwaizumi’s birthday last month, Tooru had given him the Hulk action figure that he had found bookmarked on Iwaizumi’s laptop. Iwaizumi was pissed off at first. He claimed that he was too old for toys, that he did not have a crush on Mark Ruffalo, and that the figure looked nothing like the movie-version of the Hulk. But the figure has been standing front and center on Iwaizumi’s bookshelf since then.
Tooru texts to Iwaizumi: Thanks, Okaa-chan. I needed a new notebook for Lit. :P
Iwaizumi replies: Be thankful I gave u anything Asskawa & GO TO SLEEP it’s midnight.
Iwaizumi is very good at looking out for him, Tooru reflects as he pulls out the box containing all of his primary school work. You couldn’t ask for a better friend. Iwaizumi is great at saying what needs to be said. At saving the day. He always has Tooru’s back when it matters most. Tooru kind of misses the days their friendship was just that. Friendship, uncomplicated.
Tooru is almost at the bottom of the box when he finds the blue construction paper with the title: My Friend Iwazumi Hajime
He smiles, looking at the misspelled name. This was probably written in second grade. He remembers, not too clearly, a too-cheerful teacher making the class sit in a circle, handing these papers out, and telling them to write about the person seated to their right.
Underneath the title, he has written:
My friend Iwa-chan is my best friend.
Iwa-chan gives me milk bread.
Iwa-chan is a meanie but says sorry.
Iwa-chan plays with me.
Tooru tucks the paper into his new notebook. He is going to show it to Iwaizumi tomorrow and see where the conversation takes them.
***
Iwaizumi is pulling weeds out of the spinach garden behind his house when Tooru shows up with the “My Friend” paper.
“Why do you still have that,” Iwaizumi asks, instead of being properly honored that Tooru has cherished it for so long.
“We need to do writing exercises like these more often,” Tooru says, making himself comfortable on the lawn chair. “They encourage friendship and foster good feelings. How about you write one about me?”
“How about not?” Iwaizumi replies in a high-pitched tone, clearly in an attempt to mimic and mock Tooru.
“It’s not nice to mock people, Iwa-chan. See, this is why you need to do this exercise. Who was your paper about? What did you write?”
“How am I supposed to remember, dumbass? It’s been years.”
“You haven’t changed much. Make sure you bring milk bread to lunch when school starts again so that you can get four-out-of-four. So! Let’s try this out?”
Iwaizumi ignores him.
Tooru says, “C’mon, Iwa-chan. Fine, fine, say one nice thing about anybody.”
“I’m busy,” Iwaizumi says, adjusting his bucket hat.
He wrenches a chunk of weeds out of the soil, his biceps flexing in an unnecessarily attractive way. Beads of sweat are trickling out of his hair and down his neck. Tooru wants to lick the sweat off. He wishes he could flatten his tongue against-
“Are you going to help me or just sit on your ass all day,” Iwaizumi asks, before wiping his grubby gloves on Tooru’s thighs.
“I don’t love you, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says. “You’re a meanie.”
“Good,” Iwaizumi says. He takes his gloves off, picks up a handful of weeds and starts rubbing them over Tooru’s left leg.
Tooru jumps out of the chair, yelling.
Iwaizumi is laughing as he draws his hands back. Tooru adjusts his shorts. He can still feel the warmth of Iwaizumi’s palm against his skin, the rough fingertips. He looks at Iwaizumi, the beautiful eyes, the wide smile that hasn’t been directed at him (and only him, and because of reasons unrelated to volleyball) for a while.
“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says.
“Very funny,” Tooru says. He sticks his tongue out.
Iwaizumi stares at Tooru’s mouth for a few seconds longer than is appropriate between platonic friends. Then he looks away, scowling.
“Alright, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, putting the paper back into his notebook. “You don’t have to tell me anything today. I’ll wait for you.”
“Keep waiting.” Iwaizumi hands him a pair of clean gloves. “Why do you care so much anyway? Is this about that girl who dumped you?”
“Rude.” Tooru pulls the gloves on. “We’ve already had this conversation. It was a mutual breakup.”
“Whatever.” Iwaizumi crouches back down, reaches for another weed. “Aren’t there like two hundred people in your fan club or something. You’re going to find another person before you know it.”
But not the one I want, Tooru thinks. It was silly of him to try to find love elsewhere when he already has someone who loves him more than he deserves. He considers telling Iwaizumi, confessing, like his sister had said.
But when he opens his mouth, he realizes he can’t do it. Maybe later, at the end of summer break. Maybe on their graduation day.
He crouches down next to Iwaizumi. His temples are starting to throb because of the sunlight beating down on his head.
He says, “Besides, Iwa-chan, as much as it pains me to admit it, don’t you have a large fan club too? I have to be careful, or I’m going to lose to you.”
“When have you ever beaten me in anything,” Iwaizumi replies, as he takes his hat off and puts it on Tooru’s head.
***
Between the end of July of this year and the beginning of August of the next, Iwaizumi does the following:
1. Plays a lot of excellent volleyball, manages that brat Kyoutani, says, “We’ll believe in your serve.”
2. Cries with him while they are walking back to their houses after they lose to Karasuno. Gives him a pile of notes and practice exams a few days later and says, “You’re coming with me to cram school. We’re going to get into a good university. We’re going to keep playing volleyball until we have no regrets.”
3. Kisses him.
4. Moves with him to Tokyo and doesn’t ditch him for those flashy Tokyo boys.
5. Fucks him in his dorm room (both of them trying to be very quiet), in cheap love hotels (louder, and with ridiculous but entertaining role-play), and on his nineteenth birthday, in a junior suite, where they stay the night, curled up together on the gigantic bed, Iwaizumi’s heart beating against his back.
***
Tooru is brushing his hair, getting ready to go out, when Iwaizumi walks into his room with a packet of carryout in one hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, smiling. “Aw, you wanted to have lunch together? But don’t you have a flight to catch? I was just about to go over to your room to say bye.”
“I have a few hours left. And I’m going to take a taxi. I have time.” Iwaizumi sets the food and backpack down on the floor.
“Ah, you wanted to have a quickie. Before lunch or after?”
Iwaizumi glares at him. “Neither,” he says.
“How about a goodbye kiss?” Tooru puts a finger under Iwaizumi’s chin, bends a little to kiss him.
Iwaizumi clenches Tooru’s hair as he kisses back, hard. Then softer, his lips parting, his tongue touching the roof of Tooru’s mouth. Tooru strokes the back of Iwaizumi’s neck as Iwaizumi sucks on his tongue.
Then Iwaizumi pulls away, abruptly, and stomps around the small room, setting up the small foldable kotatsu, retrieving the bowls and utensils Tooru keeps on the bookshelf. Tooru sits down and waits. He tries not to think about how much he is going to miss Iwaizumi these next few weeks. He won’t be getting any vacation time until late August because there is a shortage of teachers at the volleyball center where he works. He can’t return to Miyagi before then.
Iwaizumi spoons noodles and soup out into the two bowls. He adds extra soup to one and then pushes it towards Tooru.
Iwaizumi shoves noodles into his mouth continuously for three whole minutes, or so it seems, before putting his bowl down. He glances at Tooru, then looks away. He scratches his nape.
Tooru puts his bowl down as well. He asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Remember how you were fishing for compliments last summer?”
“Iwa-chan! I never-”
“Anyway, I’m going to tell you now. Because. Well. Because …” His voice is getting increasingly raspy. He clears his throat, continues, “Alright, nice things about you? Your hands, mouth, and hair.”
“Really?” Tooru crosses his arms. “That’s all?”
“And the fact that you never gave up on volleyball when we were in school even though you weren’t getting the results you wanted. This could’ve been because you’re a volleyball-loving dumbass, but I really admire you for that. It’s easy to get frustrated with things and quit when you keep feeling like you’ve failed, no matter how much you loved the thing once. But you kept trying, and you’ve made peace with yourself, and you’re still playing, better than you’ve ever had before.”
Tooru looks away. He stares at the open window, at the psychology textbooks lined up on his desk, at the steam rising over his ramen. He can feel his face heating up. He can’t look at Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi says, “That’s four. Want more?”
“No, that’s more than enough.”
Tooru considers saying something flippant, like “how cool, Iwa-chan, why are you trying to be cooler than me,” it’s on the tip of his tongue, and it would make things easy and familiar again. But when he finally looks at Iwaizumi, he can’t. This was kind of Iwaizumi. This is more than Tooru has been able to do for him.
He can’t remember feeling this much in love in his life. He wipes his eyes. “Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he says.
Iwaizumi finishes his ramen before replying, “Be on your best behavior for the next three weeks, alright. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Now, about that quickie.”
Tooru reaches over the table to touch Iwaizumi’s hand, says, “I love you too.”