Chapter Text
Iwaizumi Hajime was the first one to be born.
He was a quiet baby, that much was commented upon. In his mother’s womb, he kicked and kicked and kicked, and was very restless to the point that his father said that his current ‘house’ is so uncomfortable that he wanted to get out. The doctor assured them that all was well, though, and that they would expect a very healthy son once the birth took place. Mrs Iwaizumi complained often, and it is not an unusual sight to see her grumbling to nobody in particular, clutching her swollen belly.
Upon being born, there was a moment of terrified silence, and everyone present in the delivering room held their breath as the unnaturally silent babe refused to breathe fresh air. Everyone was nearly panicking until--
A loud cry pierced the operating room, and all of them collectively sighed.
The nurse handed baby Iwaizumi, swaddled with blankets and tenderly carried, to Mrs. Iwaizumi, who can do nothing but let tears flow down her cheeks as her baby’s cries rocketed.
Baby Iwaizumi cried and cried, even when his mother tried hushing him, even when he was greedily sucking milk, even when his father looked at him and whispered “He will be named Hajime”. He continued crying, and nobody could hush him. He cried like he was in pain, cried like he got his first wound, cried like there’s something missing from him.
They did not know, and they would never know, that there was indeed something missing from Iwaizumi Hajime.
Oikawa Tooru was the first one to smile.
It was a rather pleasant evening, one where his sister was sitting with his father, watching whatever inane television show they chanced upon, while his mother was busy tending to her infant son. The air was crisp and chill, but none of that mattered when Mrs Oikawa shrieked out of nowhere.
“He’s smiling!” she insisted, then realized that her voice was far too loud and dropped it into a whisper. “Look, honey, he’s smiling!”
Father, daughter and mother crowded before the baby with tufts of brown locks, cooing over the sheer cuteness he radiated as he graced them with his first ever smile.
“He’ll be a lady killer,” said the daughter, his sister, not fully comprehending what she said in her young age, only repeating what she’d heard. Of course, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t correct; on the other hand, once little Tooru grew up, he will be a ladykiller with his dashing looks and beatific smile.
Tooru gurgled happily.
Iwaizumi Hajime was the first to spot Oikawa Tooru.
Their families were good friends, and turned even greater friends once the Iwaizumi household moved in across the street from the Oikawas. Therefore it was only natural for both parties to agree to a play date. Tooru, all chubby and bubbly like the baby he is, was busy suckling on his mother’s teat when they met, so he missed seeing Hajime. Hajime, on the other hand, was busy staring curiously at the small thing in front of him.
Neither one of them could talk, but that does not mean they cannot communicate. Tooru, once finished with his meal of hearty milk, looked up and saw Hajime looking at him. Their mothers cooed and marveled on both their babies, and thus sat them together. Hajime raised a hand, and then --
Smack!
He unintentionally hit the younger child, whose reaction was to cry. Loudly. Tooru bawled and sobbed and wanted to hit the other one, and Hajime all but panicked. He poked the other one’s cheek, softly. Tooru hiccuped and look at him, tears still flowing and nose still running. Hajime, seeing his success with dissuading the tears, poked Tooru’s cheek once more.
Minutes later, both babies were taking turns in poking each other.
Hours later, both of them were cuddling, tired their antics and fast asleep.
Tooru was the first one to speak.
The Oikawa family nearly missed it at first. It was Christmas season, and that meant planning for the occasion. Mr Oikawa was talking very loudly, Mrs Oikawa was talking loudly as well, and their daughter was contributing her thoughts (“Countless gifts! More and more gifts from Santa!”) just as loudly. Tooru’s mother made the mistake of mentioning “..inviting the Iwaizumis?” and they gasped, because once the word ‘Iwaizumi’ is mentioned, Tooru wouldn’t stop bouncing and being overall hyperactive.
For Tooru, when his mother says ‘Iwaizumi’, that means play and play and have fun with the other baby. Tooru loved hearing ‘Iwaizumi’.
As expected, Tooru looked up and started bouncing happily, smile so wide as he gurgled and made baby sounds and--
“Iwa!”
“Um,” his father said, faintly. Tooru continued his bouncing.
“Iwa! Iwa! Iwa!” repeated the boy. Mr and Mrs Oikawa looked at one another.
“Did he just-”
“Is that-”
“His first word?” they both said in unison as a stream of “Iwa!”s left their son’s mouth.
“Goodness, of course it would be ‘Iwa’. We should’ve known, dear.”
“True. But this is a bit.. disheartening. Dearie, I was hoping for ‘Tou-san’ or something!”
“You were rather foolish in hoping that, dear.”
A smile. A gurgle. “Iwa!”
Hajime was the first one to walk.
It was another one of their play dates, except Hajime was already eleven months old, in Tooru’s case ten, and they were crawling all over the place. Hajime was crawling faster than Tooru while the younger boy tried to follow his “Iwa-chan!”
Hajime’s face has the look of faint annoyance as the other kid tried to follow him. All he wanted was to crawl and be alone, preferably with his Godzilla toys. But Tooru always wanted to hug Hajime and take his toys and crawl with him, and Hajime didn’t like that.
So. Hajime crawled and crawled, and Tooru followed him everywhere, and Hajime was annoyed. He crawled to the nearest chair and, with great effort, heaved himself up and stood up. Mrs Oikawa and Mrs Iwaizumi were conveniently turning their backs to their kids, therefore missing the older boy standing up and shakily taking his first steps.
Hajime’s face scrunched up in concentration and determination as he wobbily took one step. Then two. Then three. His face lit up. He looked back to Tooru, who was staring at him with wide eyes and thumb stuck in the mouth, obviously wondering why and how Iwa-chan is so far away. Hajime grinned. He only wanted to get away from Tooru.
“Oh my!” gasped their mothers as they finally saw the scene. Hajime, shakily walking away from a determinedly crawling Tooru.
Four days later, Tooru took his first steps.
Tooru was the first one to get a fever.
It was the usual sleepover, except that Tooru woke up in the middle of the night with a runny nose, sore throat, and feeling extremely cold.
“Iwa-chan,” the younger boy whined, poking the snoring Iwaizumi on the nose. Hajime twitched and mumbled something that suspiciously sounds like ‘crayfish’, but Tooru didn’t care because Tooru felt like his head was going to be split.
“Iwa-chan,” repeated Tooru, his voice scared and helpless. He shook his companion’s body a few more times, and Hajime finally rolled over and woke up.
“Whassamader?” asked Hajime groggily, wrapping a skinny arm around Tooru.
“Aliens forced me to eat something,” replied Tooru, because in his opinion, aliens were behind everything.
Hajime stirred, and then realized what the reply is. “What!” he suddenly whisper-shouted upon realizing the severity of the situation. “What did they make you eat?! What’s happening, Tooru?!”
“I don’t know,” confessed Tooru fearfully, near in tears. “My throat’s weird, like there’s something and I can’t breathe and I’m so cold, Iwa-chan, please save me!”
Hajime panicked and pressed his forehead to Tooru’s. “You’re not cold, you’re hot!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not! I’m cold!!” protested Tooru.
“No, you’re hot!!” argued Hajime. “Well, anyway, don’t worry, the aliens didn’t make you eat anything.”
Brown eyes peered at him. “Really?”
“Really.” confirmed Hajime, patting him in the head. “You’ve got a fever. Kaa-san had one long, long ago,” (translation: two weeks ago) “and I saw her get well when tou-san kissed her in the forehead,” elaborated Hajime, face scrunching up at the thought of kissing.
“Eh,” said Tooru. “Will you kiss me then? Like, to make me okay?”
Hajime looked at him, pondering. Kaa-san told him that kissing girls without their ‘ok’ is bad, but Tooru wasn’t a girl. And it would be good if Tooru is okay, because if Tooru isn’t okay then who will he catch crayfishes with?
“Okay,” assented Hajime, very solemn in his manner as he bestowed a kiss upon his best friend’s forehead.
“That didn’t do anything! I still feel cold!” complained Tooru.
“Idiot!” That was a word Hajime learned a few days ago. “It’s going to work much, much later! And if you’re cold, here, let’s share blankets because two blankets is hotter than one!”
“Okay, Iwa-chan.”
“Go to sleep, Tooru.”
Hajime was the first one to get a wound.
It was, like most childhood wounds are, an accident. There was a poor kitty stuck on a tree, and Tooru wanted it, so of course Hajime had to get it. One misplaced step, one unsteady balancing, and down the tree goes Hajime.
“Ouch!” exclaimed Hajime as a sharp sting of something coarsed through his nerves, and his hand reflexively went to cover his knee. Tooru gasped when Hajime lifted his hand that covered it. For there was blood, a lot of blood (at least, in their opinion), and blood is disgusting and scary and painful.
“Iwa-chan are you okay?” asked Tooru, watching as Hajime winced at the wound. “C’mon, let’s get that cleaned up.”
Later on, when the wound was free of dirt and possible germs, both boys looked at it.
“Now what?” asked Tooru, mystified. Blood was still dripping from it, especially after leaving it under running water.
“Dunno,” replied Hajime, as clueless as his companion. It kinda hurt, but it wasn’t the hurt that he fell when he bumped his whole foot on the couch, or when he smacked his head on the door. It was only a kind of sting. Besides, Hajime is strong. And tough.
“Ah!” exclaimed Tooru as a bright idea suddenly popped into his head. “You remember when I got sick? You made it go away right? Maybe that’ll work!”
“Hmm,” pondered Hajime. “Maybe?”
Excited, the younger brunette puckered up and was about to kiss Hajime’s forehead when a hand stopped him.
“Idiot! Why are you gonna kiss my forehead? I’m not sick there,” said Hajime, emphasizing the word. “I’m.. hurting here.” He pointed at his knee.
“Eh? But Iwa-chan, I can’t kiss that!”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s blood and it’s gross!”
“Well..” said Hajime. “How about above it?”
“Okay, Iwa-chan.”
“.. Oy, don’t be so rough, Tooru!”
“Then stay still, Iwa-chan! You’re so ticklish.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not! Just kiss the pain away, idiot! Or else I’ll tell your nee-chan you’re the one who ate the cookies!”
“So rude, Iwa-chan!”