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Iwaizumi let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and turned to the mage beside him, who still looked pale and rather angry.
"Everyone has their orders," Iwaizumi said. "We have until the healers finish recovering." Oikawa met his gaze, hesitating, and Iwaizumi noted the lingering fear in his eyes. "Hey, everything's okay," the war god said quietly. "I'm fine." Oikawa's gaze fell to the largest of the bloodied tears in Iwaizumi's shirt.
"Even in a forest, even protecting each other, Bokuto and Akaashi shouldn't have been able to touch you," Oikawa said quietly. "So why did you come back all torn up?" His voice shook. Iwaizumi didn't answer right away. Instead, he took both of Oikawa's hands in his and lifted them, bending his head to press a kiss to the mage's knuckles.
"I made a mistake," Iwaizumi admitted, his lips brushing Oikawa's fingers as he spoke. "I didn't think Bokuto would be trying so hard to kill Kuroo. Akaashi wasn't there, and the crows were. I thought I wouldn't need to use too much strength against someone who's a victim in this situation." Oikawa's fingers clenched around Iwaizumi's, then let go as the mage stepped back.
"You held back," Oikawa accused. "You left without me - without even telling me - and then you held back. Against Bokuto."
"Yeah," Iwaizumi sighed, staring down at his hands.
"Tell me what happened," Oikawa demanded. "Even with you holding back, Bokuto by himself shouldn't have been able to..." His gaze dropped to the numerous tears and blood stains on Iwaizumi's shirt. The war god grimaced.
"Bokuto wounded me once. Akaashi did the rest. I can't imagine what those two have been through to make them fight like that," he added. Oikawa made an irritated noise in his throat and turned away from his familiar. "What's bothering you, Oikawa?" Iwaizumi asked.
"Those two tore you up so badly that bratty light mage didn't even object to his familiar healing you," Oikawa snapped. "And you're more worried about them than about the fact that we're going to be fighting them again soon." Iwaizumi tilted his head.
"Of course I'm not worried about the next battle. You'll be with me," the war god pointed out.
"Unless you leave me behind again," Oikawa grumbled. "What were you thinking, anyway?"
"I didn't take you with me because you're still grieving for Matsukawa and Hanamaki. I know you're blamining yourself for their deaths at least as much as Yamaguchi is."
"So you went off to fight by yourself?" Oikawa shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Even though I didn't think Bokuto and Akaashi would be putting so much effort in, I didn't want to put you right into another fight. I'm a war god; I can handle nothing but conflict. But you need more rest than you'll admit." Oikawa huffed at him, then sighed and leaned against his chest, letting his forehead fall to Iwaizumi's shoulder. Oikawa almost missed the suppressed hiss at the contact, and it took him a second to realize that he'd placed his head right over one of his familiar's newly healed wounds. Oikawa lifted his head and glared at Iwaizumi.
"Yamaguchi didn't finish healing you," Oikawa realized.
"I'm fine. Just a little sore, that's all. It'll be gone by the time we get to Windswept," Iwaizumi replied.
"Or we could call the healer back, and he could-"
"Those two need to rest," Iwaizumi interrupted. Oikawa's gaze darted to the bloodstains on his familiar's clothes. Iwaizumi sighed and pulled the tattered shirt over his head, then dropped it onto the table. The mage blinked.
"Iwa-chan?"
"You keep staring at the rips and the blood," the war god explained. "Look, I'm fine. See?"
"Yes, you are," Oikawa muttered, his gaze trailing over his familiar's body, noting that yes, all the wounds were gone. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.
"You seem to be feeling better," he commented. Oikawa's lips twitched in a smile, and he leaned against Iwaizumi's chest again, this time pressing a kiss to his shoulder where the wound had been.
"A little. I'll be even better once this whole war is done," the enchanter sighed. Iwaizumi's arms wrapped around him, one hand lifting to stroke the mage's hair reassuringly.