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Matsukawa had always been the quiet one of their little group. Even when Yuda and Shido and Sawauchi were around, it was the starting third year middle blocker that, despite his large size, would slip into the background. It wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily. He preferred it that way; preferred to watch from a distance and observe, quietly collecting information to use should the need arise, speaking up only when he felt it was needed (words of wisdom or a well-timed joke or even some sort of echo of his best friend).
Days like this were a common occurrence, lunchtime spent with his three best friends on the roof of one of the school buildings in the sun. He sat in silence, leaning back against the chain link fence preventing anyone from falling off the edge, and slowly picked at his bento. His attention was focused on the two louder members of their group, watching Hanamaki and Oikawa bickering back and forth about some game or other they were both playing on their cellphones (if it wasn’t a rhythm game, Matsukawa wasn’t interested), though he supposed his attention was a little too obvious, considering a nudge he received to his side.
(The only response Iwaizumi received was a hum of acknowledgement, a glance out of the corner of Matsukawa’s eyes, and then silence.)
Volleyball practice after school that day wasn’t much better. Everyone had been incredibly focused on the practice match they had had with another high school team, which meant even Iwaizumi didn’t notice the dullness lingering in the middle blocker’s eyes as he watched from the sidelines during his off-court rotation. It was a look that never left him even after the visiting school had left and the starting members had had a debriefing for their next match and they had started to pack away the equipment. Taking down the nets was a job he always shared with Kindaichi, but if the first-year noticed anything off about his upperclassman, he didn’t say anything (and Matsukawa was thankful, because he really didn’t want attention on him right now). They worked in silence, the elder’s eyes occasionally drifting towards the pink-haired wing spiker whenever he let out a loud laugh or cracked some stupid joke at their captain’s expense, all without the middle blocker supplying some of sort of witty addition or echo or even encouragement to Hanamaki (and as much as he didn’t want any attention at the moment, the fact that no one seemed to notice made his heart hurt).
The final blow came in the form of a familiar voice calling down from the viewing area above the court, a second year with her skirt more than a little too high for a teacher’s taste calling to Hanamaki, scolding him for taking so long, reminding him they were meant to be going out for some sort of date.
Matsukawa didn’t stick around for the details. He simply dropped the last of the folded nets into a pile in the equipment room and slipped from the gym. The fact that no one called to him (or even seemed to notice him leaving at all) only made the tightening in his chest worse and ended with him deciding to not even change and just head straight home instead, least he have to suffer through Hanamaki’s lovestruck ramblings while changing or seeing him making out with his girlfriend at the front gate.
(If he had looked back as he passed through the gym doors, Matsukawa might have realized just how many worried eyes were watching him, including a gray pair briefly hidden behind a hand toying with strawberry blond strands.)