Chapter Text
"So, what brings you here today?"
It's a simple question, as simple as they get, and yet, there is no simple answer. There never is. But they have to start somewhere, after all, one of them at least, or else they wouldn't be here.
The atmosphere is tense. It's almost comical how cliché it is, the way they sit on opposite ends of a sofa, Oikawa staring straight ahead while Kageyama is turned to the side, facing away from him. Fortunately, the sofa is big enough so that they don't have to touch. It's small enough that they could, though.
In front of them sits a middle-aged woman. She holds a clipboard and a pen, ready to take notes of what they say. If they say anything, that is. So far, there's nothing but silence, but she stays quiet, knowing very well that one of them has to crack at some point, and it isn't going to be her. One of them always talks, eventually at least.
It takes another minute or so until Oikawa can't bear the silence weighing down on him anymore and clears his throat, once, twice. "Well, the quiet thing, for once. He never talks to me. That's not how you solve problems," he says, and something reproachful resonates in his voice.
At that, Kageyama turns his head and shoots Oikawa an angry glance. It's the first time he has directly looked at him today, and his gaze is piercing. "Oh, so you've never given me the silent treatment before?"
"He acts like it's never his fault," Oikawa retorts, still neither addressing nor looking at Kageyama. He wants it to seem like he does it out of spite or pettiness, but the truth is that he is afraid of the look he might see on his partner's, or rather ex-partner's face. It's childish, he knows that, but as ever so often, he can't help but mask his vulnerability with defensiveness. "Maybe I sometimes give him the silent treatment to give him a taste of his own medicine."
"Well, you can never take the blame, and I sure as hell don't want to take it all the time either."
"Still, did you really have to break up with me?" Oikawa says, finally turning to face Kageyama. It's clear as day he's trying to stay composed, but the neutral face he had put on until now is visibly starting to crumble, "13 years thrown out the window just like that."
"And you've never broken up with me before?" Kageyama asks, but it sounds more like an accusation than anything. It's meant like one, too.
"That was years ago! That's different!" Oikawa tries to defend himself. It had caught him off-guard, and he wonders why Kageyama had suddenly brought it up again even though it hadn't come up in ages, not even during their fights.
"How so?" Kageyama asks dryly. His eyes are cold, and there's no emotion in his voice, just bitterness. It makes Oikawa shudder.
For a moment, Oikawa contemplates saying something but simply shuts up for once instead. The only way that had been different is that he didn't really mean it and that they got back together again quickly. This time feels like they're seriously over, and he isn't quite ready to admit that yet. Saying it out loud might just make it real.
"He threw a glass at me," Kageyama eventually says when it becomes clear that Oikawa won't reply. He has turned away again, and this time it's him who isn't directly addressing Oikawa anymore.
"I did not," Oikawa objects pointedly, "I'm good at aiming. If I had actually meant to hit you, I would've."
"And that makes it better, how?"
Oikawa opens his mouth to reply, but he is interrupted by their therapist, "Do you know that what you did was wrong?"
He gives her a bewildered look, "Of course I know?! It's not like I'm proud of that, but I never meant to hurt him. I shouldn't have lost my composure like that, but I'd never actually intentionally throw something directly at him."
"Have you apologized for it?" she asks.
Kageyama is still looking away and doesn't turn even when Oikawa faces him again. They say nothing. The room is filled merely with the noise of a ballpoint pen gliding over paper. She doesn't ask again, doesn't wait for an answer because, this time, the silence is enough.
"So, what are your goals for this therapy?"
When Kageyama, once again, doesn't say anything, Oikawa feels compelled to go first, "I want to fix our relationship. I want us to be happy, both together and individually."
"I-" Kageyama starts but stops again immediately to clear his throat to keep his voice from breaking, "I just want this to be over. I want things to end on a good note and move on with my life and be happy."
"What?" Oikawa asks, utterly stunned. He can feel his face distort with bewilderment, but there's no way he can keep up his facade after what Kageyama had just said. "Why? Why would you even want to go to couples therapy if you just want us to be over?"
Kageyama keeps staring away to the side, unmoving, quiet.
"It's absolutely okay to have different goals," their therapist says, "Your goals might change as we make progress. It's good to work on individual happiness, too."
"But I don't want to be happy alone?!" Oikawa objects, still absolutely confused and horrified how they had suddenly gotten to that point. He looks back and forth between their therapist and Kageyama, who still isn't acknowledging him, "I'm not here for individual therapy!"
"Yeah, but you need that," Kageyama utters under his breath, barely audible but just loud enough that Oikawa catches it nevertheless.
"What did you just say?!" Oikawa replies, his shock turning into anger, "What about you, then?"
"Well, I went," Kageyama says nonchalantly.
And just like that, it's Oikawa's turn to be stunned, once again, and his anger fizzles out as quickly as it had come over him. And as the anger goes, he feels the hurt. He feels betrayed in more ways than just one. "What? When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"When I was a child," Kageyama answers calmly, "I would've told you, but you've been tiptoeing around talking about my childhood ever since it came up for the first time, so why would I force that information on you? You couldn't even tell me you were leaving the goddamn country until I found out from somebody else."
There it is again, the bitterness. And with that last sentence, it slowly starts to dawn on Oikawa that this isn't just about their recent fights and problems. It goes back more than a decade, and all of a sudden, he feels dumb for missing the point for so long.
"How are your current living arrangements?" their therapist asks before the silence between them can unfold for too long.
"I'm staying with a friend, currently," Kageyama replies.
"Good," she says, and Oikawa can't help but think that, no, nothing is good at all, "It's best if you don't see or talk to each other outside of therapy for now."
When neither of them says anything, she takes that as an acknowledgment. "I think that's enough for today. I want to see both of you individually next. Please make appointments for that and then another appointment together for the week after."