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There was a story passed through ages in the form of a myth, it goes like this;
Hearsay that there is a bond, strong enough to bind, secret enough to never be known. It coils and it links and it seeps, deep into bones till it rearranges souls. It will build inside dreams, rooting itself into the very essence of anybody who has emotions like tidal waves. And this bond, this connection-like thread is the guide to the other half of a heart. A soulmate.
It had been whispered to Tooru, as a young boy, by his sister who loved legends and stories. Tooru had been enamored to know that the world believed in such a thing; soulmates. The one person that would fit into your life, belonging there like no other.
Tooru relished the idea. Believed in it enough. And perhaps that was the catalyst, because Tooru, at age 11, started dreaming.
He couldn’t understand it at first. Disoriented, fog-like, this state of unconsciousness where his young self was standing in. What he could remember though, was a river, a person, and a net. And that was it. It was far too vague, far too questionable that Tooru dismissed it immediately. He forgot about it soon enough, with reality proving far too important as he played and tossed and served with the ball he held.
Tooru, Hajime’s hand in tow, was far too preoccupied with the wonders of volleyball that he soon forgot that silly little bedtime story his sister had told him. He forgot it, because it wasn’t as important, not anymore. Because man-made stories are just fiction meant to awe children and no one his age would believe in the lies adults told them when they were younger.
Just like the way Tooru became Oikawa to his fellow growing friends, Oikawa had to mature and leave behind these small pieces of wonder that used to spark wild adventures (he says this to Hajime, despite being just a bratty 11-year-old boy. Hajime agrees, and thus Hajime becomes Iwa-chan.)
And so, when Oikawa received the second dream of his soulmate, just three years later, he thought nothing of it. Nothing because what he saw was just Iwa-chan, sitting by their school staircase leading up to the roof deck, head tilting to meet Oikawa’s gaze and grinning that smile that had always made Oikawa feel invincible. He thought nothing of it because that was Iwa-chan, and he was bound to enter his dreams sooner since he’s always been constant in Oikawa’s life. He thought nothing of the way Iwaizumi had held out his hand and the way something clicked when he crossed the stairs to hold it.
When Oikawa woke up, there was a settling in his bones that he couldn’t name.
Something was different, but he didn’t know what.
All was soon forgotten as his mother’s knock and urging him to hurry for school replaced any and all confusion he had after waking up. Just like that, the second dream was gone.
But that wasn’t the end of it, no. At 15, the dreams came knocking back. Frequently, like they’ve started rooting inside his mind and they’ve found soil to bloom.
Frequently enough that Oikawa would remember.
At 15, once more, he dreamt of Iwaizumi. This time they were on a couch, sitting close, distant noises of the tv buzzing through. In this dream, Oikawa didn’t realize he was dreaming. The only thought he had was how normal this felt; his hand tangled with Iwa’s, their feet propped on the table and gently bumping each other.
It felt so normal, so real, so true that when Oikawa woke up he panicked.
Because that can’t be right.
He couldn’t have been holding hands with Iwa-chan, he couldn’t have been feeling comfortable with Iwa’s warmth pressed to his side like that.
They’ve held hands before, sure, when preschool demanded that their line formations be linked by holding your friend’s hand, or when he had needed some help in getting up from tying his shoes, or when they did thumb wrestling. Sure, he’s had lots of instances and memories where he’s held Iwa’s hand.
But not like that.
Never like that. Where his hand felt like it belonged there, where he had no want nor need to let go, where what he wanted to do was the opposite. What he wanted to do was to continue to hold on.
That can’t be right.
Why would he want to keep holding on to Iwa’s hand?
That’s weird. Right?
So Oikawa panicked. Enough so that he had become awkward with Iwaizumi for a week which the other boy had been angered and confused by. They had a fight after that (where Iwaizumi hit Oikawa so hard that he fell to his ass) because Oikawa was being an idiot that wouldn’t communicate what Iwa did wrong so they could fix things. But Oikawa couldn’t tell Iwaizumi that he did absolutely nothing wrong. It was all him. It was all Oikawa who was wrong.
Oikawa felt so guilty, for having such dreams of wanting to hold Iwaizumi’s hand forever, but he felt even guiltier for putting such a painful emotion on Iwaizumi that he decided he’d lock up all those wrong emotions and be a good friend for Iwa-chan.
Except he couldn’t.
How could he? When he dreamt of too long hugs, of casual touches, of an arm around his shoulder, of lips to his forehead, how could he?
This was bizarre, and it was wrong, but it felt so nice that Oikawa wanted it to be true. And he was so scared of it being true because somewhere inside Oikawa he knows that the world isn't so accepting.
So Oikawa can’t—won’t think like that, he’ll try his damndest to never let such emotions out, because if Iwaizumi ever knew of it then it would be over.
At 16, Oikawa finally remembers the story. It comes crashing to him just as he was going out for a morning jog and suddenly he’s bounding for his sister’s house where he’s greeted by a sullen Takeru preparing for school and his sister’s ‘what’ face.
They send Takeru out first before he tackles his sister with questions because if there was anybody in the world he could trust, it was her.
“Is that myth true?”
“Do soulmates really exist?”
“Do you think it’s true?”
“What happens when I keep dreaming about someone?”
“I think there’s something wrong with me.”
It’s a flurry of questions, but that last one makes his sister stop him with a fierce hug. Oikawa hadn’t even realized he was crying.
“Kimi-nee-chan… I think I like a boy.”
“Oh, Tooru.” His sister hushes. They’ve moved to the couch where Oikawa all but clings to his sister, ugly sobs coming out as Kimi pats his back.
“Am I weird?” He whispers because saying them out any louder makes it so so real.
“Tooru,” It is with a fierce no argument voice that Kimi answers him, “You’re not weird. There is nothing wrong with you. Loving the same gender is not wrong.”
“But--”
“No, listen. I get you, Tooru. I get you’re scared, I get you don’t understand because no one’s ever shown you that loving anyone is fine. But in the end, it is your choice, your decision, to accept yourself. Not anybody else’s.”
And that’s all Oikawa needs to hear to let himself finally cradle in his hands that part he’s been trying to push down.
And it was all good, all nice, finally allowing himself just the idea of what it would be like to be Hajime’s.
Until it isn’t, until Iwaizumi gets himself a girlfriend at 17, and suddenly there were 4 things Oikawa was sure were impossible:
- Soulmates exist. (impossible)
- He hated Iwaizumi (impossible)
- He will stop loving Iwaizumi. (impossible)
- Hajime loves him back. (Impossible.)
It felt like this surging wave just went and uprooted all these little stems he’s been trying to grow and cultivate, and now everything’s just washed out and destroyed, because there Oikawa was, trying to understand feeling he’s apparently always harbored but now will never get the chance to voice out because Iwaizumi’s not like him .
He’s not like Tooru who has seemingly fallen in love with his best friend.
And his dreams were nothing but pure imagination that’d been sparking in his brain and feeding him hope despite all the little scenes of rightness it’s been showing him, of how natural it would be to hold Iwa’s hand, of how fitting it would be to stay by Iwa’s side, of how comfortable it is to let himself love and be loved, just like that.
It had been nothing but lies, because if soulmate were real, and if that myth was real, then why was it that the one person he’s always, always, always been dreaming of had never once even looked at him?
At age 18, Oikawa Tooru had locked every single thing about loving Iwaizumi and had also got himself a girlfriend.
Despite Iwaizumi having broken up with his, months prior.
But how could Oikawa ever let himself hope when the world has never shown him what it was like to be loved by Iwaizumi?
He’d rather have friendship than these flimsy dreams that continue to let him see and let him want for a reality that could never happen.
It makes him want to stay up late, makes him want to forego sleeping altogether, just so he won’t see those bits and pieces that he desperately, desperately wants but cannot and will never have.
Whoever started the myth that you find soulmates in dreaming must have been insane, because all Oikawa ever found was this bubbling burn of jealousy and despair over loving someone that had been there all his life.
How could dreaming show you who your soulmate was supposed to be when all reality shoved in your face was that it wasn't meant from the start?
So if it really wasn’t going to be Iwaizumi, then Oikawa can at least try to find someone else, right? Maybe the dreams were wrong, maybe there is someone in the world he can love just like Hajime.
Except the dreams continue to plague him and Oikawa just can’t do that to someone who actually really likes him. It’d be unfair, to string someone along. No one deserves to be a replacement.
So he breaks up with her not even a month later, coming clean. Told her the reason because she deserved that, after letting her hope. Maybe it was luck, but his (ex)girlfriend had tearily wished him good luck.
He had no heart to tell her though, that he was never planning on pursuing Iwa.
The one thing Oikawa had learned to live with, was Iwa never loving him back.
And he had to be content with just having the most wonderful, lifelong friend.
He had to be.
More so now that he’s leaving.
At age 21, stomach full of Argentine food from attending the wedding of his teammate, Oikawa Tooru’s first impossibility had been revoked.
Soulmates, apparently, do exist. As he listens to the groom’s speech of dreaming of his wife, and vice versa for the bride, there was no other possible explanation that his childhood myth was actually true.
Of course, Oikawa didn’t suddenly just believe. He had to extract more info from the abuelitas in his apartment complex, and they had the same stories. Close enough to what his sister had once told him off.
“You dream of a lover, and they will appear in your life. And they will fit, like rain coming back to a river, they will fit.”
“They will root inside your mind, and they will bloom, and the dreams will guide you to where they are.”
“It is a soulmate that resides in the heart of dreams, Toto. Because it is in dreams that the fates can commune with you, to place a future.”
More and more, these people who have now become second family tell him stories not just theirs, but of their friends, of their families, of strangers even, that have been in the same boat as he.
Dreaming of the person they were meant to be with.
At age 24, impossibility number 2 and soon after, 3 as well, had become possible.
He hated Iwaizumi. He hated Hajime. He hated loving Hajime. He hated hoping Hajime would love him back. He hated being thrown in the face again and again and again that Hajime does not feel the same way.
He hated knowing that it wasn’t even gender that made the barrier wide, because Iwaizumi’s next partner came in the whirlwind of Miya Atsumu.
Oikawa hadn’t even known Iwa was bi. He had told him the same moment he had said he was dating Miya.
Oikawa wishes, for the first time in his life, that he had never met Iwaizumi Hajime (he regrets it the moment he thinks of it because there is nothing, nothing in the world that could come as close to how important Iwaizumi was to him).
So he stops texting Iwa, stops calling Iwa, and stops reaching out to Iwa. Stops talking to Iwa because he just can’t. Not anymore. He can’t.
He can’t, knowing soulmates exist and Iwa exists and Iwa’s his soulmate but Oikawa probably wasn’t Iwa’s.
If letting Iwaizumi in his life was this painful, then maybe it was better if he wasn’t.
And for the first time after years, the dreams stopped.
At age 24, Oikawa Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi Hajime, too burnt out by the rage and hurt.
And everything was fine. And everything felt empty.
He never dreamt again, until he was 27.
27-year-old Oikawa Tooru, starting setter of CA San Juan, bronze medalist for the Olympics, had seen Iwaizumi Hajime again after 3 years of nothing and felt like the world started moving again.
There he was, the man that had been plaguing his dreams for almost half his life, looking for all the worlds so accomplished and wonderful, but most of all, looking (like he had years ago when they had fought) pained.
Even now, years later, Oikawa still can’t help feeling guilty, for being the cause of that, and just like years back, he will still be the one to fix it because again, there is nothing in the world that is as important as Iwaizumi Hajime.
So here he is now awkwardly staring at stars, seated in the park just outside their neighborhood, Iwaizumi on the bench beside him trying to fix things.
They are quiet for a while, nobody daring to break this silence, nobody daring to speak in hopes to prolong this sense of comfort of being beside one another again.
But they are both mature now, and they both know they have to talk.
“Did I… Was it something I did?” Iwaizumi asks, and Oikawa hates that he has to ask that, hates that he did.
“It.. wasn’t.” Oikawa tries.
“Then — ”
“But, it also was.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean, Tooru?” And it must have been the first name, must have been the way Iwaizumi’s hand was reaching out to clasp his, must have been the way the stars were shining because he says,
“I’m in love with you. Was in love with you. Still am in love with you.”
There is silence, and Iwaizumi’s hands still in their path of trying to touch Oikawa’s hand. Oikawa faces him, faces his wide-blown eyes, faces the man he’s been dreaming of, faces the man he’s in love with .
“And you weren’t.”
Iwaizumi stays silent, as if he can’t fathom what’s happening, and can't understand this monumental thing Oikawa just confessed. So Oikawa starts from the beginning.
“Did you know, Iwa-chan, that there is a myth about soulmates, that there are people who have met each other, married each other, fallen in love with each other because they saw themselves in their significant other’s dreams?”
At this point Iwaizumi’s hand had fallen down to his lap, still not knowing what to say, so Oikawa continues.
“That in this big wide world, there are people, countless too, that have experienced the same thing I have, dreaming of someone, meeting someone, falling in love with someone, learning that ‘someone’ is their soulmate? That was you for me, Hajime. You were mine.”
“I —”
“And I wasn’t yours, but I had dreamed of you since I was 11. And I have only ever dreamed of you. I had dreamed of your hand clasping mine, dreamed of your arms around me, dreamed of your lips on me, dreamed of living a life with you, dreaming of what it would be like loving you and being loved by you, dreaming of being happy. With you. I had only ever dreamed of you. It had always been you, Hajime. And all I ever hoped was that you dreamed of me too.”
Tooru heaves a sigh, weary, bone tired, living in this story of loving the soulmate that was his but never truly his. And he smiles, hand reaching out to reach Hajime’s, finally feeling once more the weight of Hajime’s hand on his. And Tooru cries.
“I hoped you dreamed of me too. I hoped you loved me too.”
Tooru cries, and Hajime does too.
“But I did dream of you.”
With suddenness, Tooru snaps his head up to meet Hajime’s tear-stained eyes, “What?”
“Gods, Tooru, there was a myth like that? Why did you never tell me, fuck,” Hajime cries, and his grip on Tooru’s hand becomes tighter even as his sobs grow, “I thought it was just some sort of world record monumental pining, to keep dreaming of moments with you. I never… I thought it was just a reflection of how much I loved you, I didn’t know that— Gods, I didn’t know that it meant being soulmates.” Hajime’s ugly crying, bowing over, forehead touching Tooru’s knuckles.
“But you were dating other people, you—”
“I didn’t realize it, the first time I got a girlfriend was because I hadn’t realized it yet. I broke up with her soon after though.”
“But you never—”
“You were leaving, Tooru. And I didn’t think I could jeopardize anything, I didn’t want to lose you when I was already physically losing you. But jokes on me, I lost you fully anyways. The next ones after you left, it’s not a good thing to admit, but I was lonely. You were gone. I missed you. You weren’t there. I wanted someone to be there.”
Hajime straightens back up and moves closer, the other hand coming up to cradle Tooru’s jaw, letting their foreheads lean together.
“And then I come out to you with Miya in hopes that you’d look at me, or react, or anything, and you did react. In the worst way possible, I got a reaction from you and I lost you. Nothing, for three years. And I hated it. Hated that I lost you because I wanted to see how you’d react to me dating anybody else.”
Tooru’s tears are wiped away and all he can do is gape at Hajime.
“You think I don’t love you? You really think I don’t love you?”
They are inches apart, Hajime’s lips so so close that Tooru feels the way they tremble.
“I have loved you all my life, Tooru. I was just stupid in the way I dealt with it.”
Tooru’s 4th impossibility is finally refuted.
Hajime loves him back.
Fact. Truth. Actuality. Reality.
Certainty.
“Oh.”
The kiss feels like coming home.