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𓆩✧𓆪
In total, there were seven gangly high-schoolers crammed into Yahaba’s not-quite-big-enough bedroom on a Friday night towards the end of Oikawa’s third year at Seijoh; this included himself and Iwa-chan, plus Makki, Mattsun, Yahaba, Kyoutani and, last but not least, Kunimi. They’d all been successfully convinced (or in some cases, coerced) to attend a games night at Yahaba’s behest, and the room was lively with boisterous banter and chit-chat as the lot of them finished chowing down on the pizzas they’d ordered in.
Oikawa licked a stray crumb from the side of his mouth and wiped the pads of his oily fingers on the fabric of his favourite plaid shorts, ignoring the slight orange stain of pizza grease left behind. He rested his arm on the table gently, his index finger tracing the printed lines of the page as he scanned through the stats of his character sheet, refreshing his memory—he was playing Torus, a Glasya tiefling and a College of Whispers bard with a secret identity, as he masqueraded as a half-elf prince on the run.
Yahaba had helped him create the character earlier this week after practice; despite many moments where Oikawa could tell that his soon-to-be successor was suffering, he was pleasantly surprised at how excited he was to play with the others. This wasn’t his usual thing—Oikawa supposed he hadn’t really hung out with people without playing or watching volleyball for quite some time now. Apart from when he was with Iwaizumi, but that didn’t count. Maybe it would be good for him to do something different for a change.
And, Oikawa supposed, it would be fun to watch his friends’ shocked faces as he makes his big reveal.
As Oikawa plotted and schemed about how to deceive the others, Yahaba, settling into his role as the Dungeon Master, cleared his throat, called everyone to attention and began to set the scene.
“It’s a warm, warm evening in a small village named Tarrin, on the outer edges of the Kingdom of Orindoth. Fireflies dance in the air, their luminescence mirroring the expanse of stars overhead in the night sky. Walking into the village, there’s a dirt path from the outer boundary, leading past small houses and cottages that are close together. The path is just wide enough for an ox and cart to be pulled through, and the earth is burnt and dry from days of unseasonably warm weather for late spring.”
The other six members of Seijoh were hooked, listening intently to every word Yahaba spoke with interest and inquisitiveness.
“The path leads you through the centre of the village, past a small well covered in ivy. There’s a chapel to the left of the well, facing east. To the right of the well, the local tavern is warm, aglow with sounds of merriment and chatter; it seems as though the adult population of Tarrin have put their sweet babes to sleep and have made the short walk over to the local watering hole, the Blushing Bear. However, tonight is different. There’s whispering from the locals. And what are they discussing? Oh, there are strangers in town.”
A small thrum of excited muttering filled the room, and Oikawa swore he heard a giggle from Hanamaki.
Yahaba set them up, bringing each of them into the adventure he’d planned for the group, and Oikawa listened intently to it all. Despite being a rookie to all of this, he felt immersed by the ambience Yahaba had created. There was some kind of soundscape coming out from the tinny, crackling speakers of his laptop, and the overhead lights had been dimmed in favour of lamps around the room and some LED candles on the table in front of them. Oikawa was impressed by the dedication that Yahaba had gone to, and he shared a look with Iwaizumi next to him, as they silently acknowledged their admiration.
The six players’ characters were each one of the new strangers in the tavern, Yahaba explained, and though they weren’t aware of it yet, they were united by a common cause—to find the treasure at the heart of some local ruins.
Matsukawa was playing a half-orc barbarian named Gleig, a sworn friend of Hanamaki’s character, the tiefling warlock Kylech. They were clearly up to something, and Oikawa did not like it one bit.
Kyoutani was playing a human fighter, named Kyoutani, which earned a chorus of laughs from around the room following his introduction. Kunimi was playing a harengon fighter, named Flopsy, who was definitely deadly and not at all adorable. Matsukawa opened his mouth to make a dry comment about Flopsy, but he was quickly met with a sharp look from Oikawa, Yahaba, and also Kunimi himself—Matsukawa quickly backed off and shared a look with Hanamaki, who just smirked at him in response.
“Hey, I didn’t do anything. Don’t get me involved in this.” Hanamaki shrugged. “I’m being open-minded and supportive of my fellow players.” He parrotted the list of session rules Yahaba had gone over with them at length earlier, yet he always had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
‘Yeah, definitely up to something.’ Oikawa thought, but paid it no mind. Oikawa was here to win, if that’s even possible.
And then, after all of that fanfare, there was Iwaizumi. Playing a human paladin named Izumi, with an oath of devotion, Oikawa held back a fond roll of his eyes. Oikawa would have bet a sizeable amount of real money that Iwaizumi would play that type of character, after all. Chivalrous, morally upright, a stick in the mud… yeah. That was Iwaizumi alright. Well, at least that was the case in the context of being around his juniors, as they were tonight. He was different when it was just him and Oikawa, but Oikawa chalked it up to having known each other longer than they can even remember. It’s not like you act the same around your oldest friend as you do around your junior teammates. Right?
Clearing his mind, Oikawa pursed his lips as he concentrated on Yahaba’s narration. Oikawa was pleasantly surprised at how much everyone was into it—when Yahaba had first suggested that a bunch of the team play, he was met with a few dismissals off the bat from a lack of experience, but Oikawa had agreed, and successfully wrangled others to join up too. His reasoning? He was leaving for Argentina in a mere few months time—this was all about making memories before his departure, of course. He looked around the table now and saw his teammates hooked on Yahaba’s every word.
After finding themselves as the only strangers in town, and forming a hasty alliance, the party left the tavern, making their journey towards the ruins on the outskirts of town. Yahaba made some rolls out of view of everyone (despite attempts from both Hanamaki and Oikawa to sneak a peek), and suddenly they were in their first battle. It was a little clunky, and there were lots of rules checked with Yahaba, but they were making steady progress dispatching the band of scoundrels who were ambushing them.
There were three remaining standing, but somehow his token for Torus had ended up cornered by one of these pesky ruffians.
Oikawa frowned as his character took serious damage from one of the assailants, leaving him prone with a measly 1HP left. “Ouch, that hurt.” He pouted, rubbing at the faux-injury that Yahaba had described. Yahaba’s smile widened at the sight, before moving the game’s initiative forward.
It was Iwaizumi’s turn, now.
“I’m going to move from here,” Iwaizumi picked up the random token that represented his paladin, moving it over to a square next to Oikawa’s. “To here. And I’m going to put my hands on Prince Torus, hold his cheek, and look into his eyes to make sure he’s okay as I heal him for 5HP.”
“You’re going to risk the opportunity attacks?” Yahaba raised an eyebrow, looking at Iwaizumi to triple check that this was the move he actually wanted to make.
“Yeah, whatever.” Iwaizumi nodded at Yahaba. “I can take it.” Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s gaze on him, but he stared at Yahaba intently, chewing on the inside of his cheek in anticipation.
“You’re hit for four points of bludgeoning damage as you move past the guy here.” Yahaba shrugged, and Iwaizumi nodded, tracking his health accordingly. “Do you want to do anything else?”
“Yeah. Can I smite this guy?”
Yahaba’s face split into a grin, talking Iwaizumi through a roll that turned into a critical attack hit , leading to a stupid amount of damage that Oikawa couldn’t even count properly, with the NPC that attacked Torus the bard dying on the spot from the fatal hit of Izumi’s sword.
“Thanks, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa grinned. He didn’t acknowledge the real pinkness of his own ears.
“Izumi.” Yahaba corrected.
“Right, thank you Izumi. My hero.” Oikawa mock bowed his head, and he could swear he saw a miniscule grin on Iwaizumi’s face, only noticeable for anyone with a ‘I’ve known Iwa-chan since before I can remember’ card.
The rest of the rounds played out, until eventually they’d incapacitated each of the bandits. Their first battle was over and they could all finally catch their breath for a moment. There was a thrum of excitement around the table, mutterings of praise shared between teammates. Oikawa looked over at Yahaba, who was seated at the head of the table, pleased as punch that the game was going well.
“Does anyone have anything they want to do in the aftermath of this battle before we move on?” Yahaba asked, looking at each of the players to check in with them.
“I want to loot some of these guys.” Hanamaki grinned, rubbing his hands together with glee. After rolling another die, Yahaba detailed the spoils that he could add to his inventory sheet; a potion, a dagger, some spell components. Nothing too flashy, and nothing that Oikawa would want to take for Prince Torus’ benefit, anyway.
“I’m going to stay by Izumi’s side from now on.” said Oikawa with a nod, feeling himself slip further into character, as he locked eyes with Iwaizumi. “I’d rather not end up a skewered prince on some ambusher’s blade.”
“Of course, your highness. Stick with me, I’ll protect you with my life. ” Iwaizumi’s gaze was intense, and Oikawa was pleasantly surprised—he had no idea that his friend was so into this game, so good at playing the part. It made his cheeks warm, but Oikawa only responded to Iwaizumi’s declaration with a smile as everyone else offered up some bantering roleplay, before deciding to move their party onwards towards the ruins.
Under the table, Oikawa was careful not to kick anyone as he linked his ankles with Iwaizumi’s opposite him. It earned him a quick look, but there was no discussion, no pulling away. Oikawa got the feeling that his Iwa-chan was only checking he was alright—he never seemed to mind when Oikawa was touchy with him anymore.
Pleased, Oikawa looked around to see everyone much more comfortable with the roleplay that was involved, now. Perhaps most surprisingly, Kunimi was now very dedicated to playing his character authentically, which was both amusing and nice to see from the usually reserved boy. Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki were immersed, which was a relief as Oikawa wasn’t sure if they were going to unite in an attempt to break either the game, or Yahaba’s spirit, but currently neither was happening. They were arguing over loot, but Yahaba assured everyone that’s part of the fun of the game.
As their characters arrived at the ruins without further attacks, the group worked together to create a plan of action to avoid as much trouble as possible.
“I’m going to make sure I’m in front of Prince Torus, protecting him in case we get ambushed again.” Iwaizumi told the group, and Oikawa responded with a grin.
“Izumi-chan, do you have a soft spot for me?”
“Shut up, Shit-Torus. It’s my job to protect the weak, remember?”
“I’m not as weak as you might think, you know.”
“Whatever. I’m still going to protect you. I won’t let you get hurt.”
“My my, Izumi-chan. You really are a hero.” Oikawa grinned. Tearing his gaze away from Iwaizumi’s, with more difficulty than usual, he looked around the table to see Matsukawa smirking at him, shaking his head. Oikawa ignored him, flipping him off discreetly, which earned Oikawa a cackle from his friend. The rest of the group carried on interacting in character, except for Kyoutani who barely spoke at all, and before Oikawa knew it, they were all in agreement and heading down into the dungeons of the ruins.
“As you head down the dark stone staircase, please can you each roll perception checks? Anyone with darkvision can make this with advantage.”
Oikawa bit his cheek to hide a knowing, smug grin, rolling with advantage. Though the table would think this down to his half-elf status, it was actually stemming from his character’s secret tiefling heritage, but no one would know. It was still his secret to keep for now. He was used to that, after all.
Looking up to announce his roll, he locked eyes with Iwaizumi, who was studying him. Had he seen Oikawa’s grin? Oikawa hoped not. But if he had? Maybe it would still be fun regardless.
“You see an old, weathered iron padlock. Almost the kind you would see in an old dungeon or something. There’s no immediate sign of something fishy going on with it, so it’s your choice on how to proceed.” Yahaba painted the vision for them again, and after a quick sidebar, the group managed to open the lock without triggering any horrible trap, with the help of some thieves’ tools that Kunimi noticed by chance were in his inventory, and a very lucky skill check roll.
They journeyed onwards, Izumi protecting Torus like his life depended on it. Oikawa almost felt bad about the deception, but decided against it—it’s just a game, after all.
The six of them manoeuvred through the dungeon, trying to be as stealthy as possible, until they reached the final antechamber that contained the fabled treasure they were all seeking.
“As you make your way down into this hot, humid room, none of you had a high enough passive perception to notice that you were not alone down here.” Yahaba switched the music over to a battle soundtrack, orchestral and rousing, the laptop speakers crackling with stress. “As your eyes adjust to the dark, Torus, Gleig and Kylech, you three all begin to see many, many eyes looking at you in the dark, watching you in the entrance of this space.”
“I hide behind Izumi, silently grabbing him to stop him walking further. I stay quiet.” Oikawa’s mouth is open and talking before he’s even fully finished understanding Yahaba’s narration.
“I reach behind me, making sure Torus is as close to me as he can be and I stay still. I don’t turn around, but I whisper to him. ‘Your Highness, are you okay? What have you seen?’”
Yahaba grinned in a way that reminded Oikawa of himself, confident and excited to win. “Would everyone please roll initiative?”
Oikawa was high in the initiative order, almost right after Matsukawa’s barbarian, save for one of the enemies. At least there would be something between Prince Torus and most of whatever monsters were lurking in the dark—and Oikawa was not above using Matsukawa as a meat shield.
Really, he knew that they were all capable of playing this game to an okay standard. However, they were all competitive—himself worst of all, Oikawa supposed. He knew that they would be disappointed with a loss, just the same as on the court.
“Torches are lit in the dark, and you find yourselves surrounded by a horde of kobolds. They’re being hissed at by a goblin captain. All anyone can make out is the phrase ‘kherek-nor’! And then you hear the door behind you slamming firmly shut.”
Yahaba placed a proper battle map of his own creation out on the table in front of them with a smile, exhaling sharply as he lifted the large poster board, complete with hand painted rock walls and tiles across the floor of the dungeon they were in. He then laid out tokens around the map to represent each member of the attacking horde of kobolds and the goblin captain that had trapped them in this underground lair, and each of the players looked around, uneasy and unsure. There were shared glances; worrying, lips pursed, trying their best to plan what they can do.
It was tough, as they were all stacked on top of each other in the small space and they had clearly been ambushed, but Oikawa looked around at his teammates; each of them was mumbling to themselves and staring at the hastily drawn map, complete with slightly wonky grid squares, as they began to plot out how they would handle the threat.
The five of them huddled away from the table in a poor attempt at strategising without Yahaba knowing the details of their plan. Oikawa leaned into the huddle, feeling Iwaizumi’s arm slip around his shoulder firmly, a fine figure of support in any situation. Though, Oikawa knew that already, of course.
They settled on a plan. Sending the stronger characters up front to deal melee damage, those with fewer hit points and with ranged abilities would hang back, attempting to provide some kind of crowd control as the horde fought back.
Turn after turn, progress was made in this microscopic war of attrition. There were simply too many of them to manage at once, but Oikawa reassured them that there was nothing that they couldn’t manage together.
“Come on, we cannot give up on this! We’re so close to the treasure we’ve come for. And besides, they locked us in. It’s not like we can run away.” Oikawa grinned, and he swore he heard Iwaizumi sighing across the table from him. “We can do this. There’s nothing that we can’t handle, okay?”
There was a chorus of half-hearted agreement from around the table.
“He said ‘okay?’.” Iwaizumi repeated, and the chorus rang out a little more certain this time.
It was reminiscent of many a moment courtside that they had all shared as part of the team, but this was different. Yet, here was Iwaizumi, still something even more reliable than Oikawa’s right-hand man.
Oikawa was going to miss this.
It was back to Matsukawa’s turn, and he was narrating the swinging of Gleig’s greataxe as he fought in a fearsome rage. Taking out one of the kobolds was all he could manage at the moment, but it was good enough to earn some whooping and hollering from the rest of the party members in excitement. Things were starting to look better for them.
“We might actually have a shot at this.” Hanamaki seemed baffled, laughing as he high-fived Matsukawa.
Kunimi and Kyoutani shared a look of cautious optimism.
Yahaba stood. “Next, it’s the goblin captain’s turn.” Pursing his lips, he scanned the board in front of him with sharp analysis. Oikawa watched as Yahaba read the situation at hand with precision, before nodding to himself and returning to his seat.
The rest of the group watched as Yahaba rolled behind the screen. There was a pause, and then Yahaba looked at Oikawa with a firm gaze.
“Oikawa, is a nineteen higher than your armour class?”
Oikawa’s eyes narrowed, lips pursing. “You know that it is.”
A hungry grin split Yahaba’s face apart as he rolled again, as fate decided just how badly Torus was going to be injured.
“The goblin captain raises his shortbow, aiming true and steady at the centre of Prince Torus’ chest. He fires and he successfully hits the prince, the arrow sinking into his flesh. Torus is down to 0HP, and he doesn’t have much time left.”
And so, Torus was hit by an arrow as it pierced his chest, finding its home between the layers of garments covering his delicate chest. The prince collapsed to the ground, clutching at his chest as he slipped out of consciousness.
Oikawa coughed, weak and shocked, slumping back in his chair as he mimicked his character’s fate. His eyes met Iwaizumi’s across the table as Yahaba knocked over the Torus miniature.
“Torus is down. Oikawa, do you mind rolling a d20 for me and telling me what the number is? You want an eleven or higher, here.”
Oikawa paused, taking a deep breath before rolling the translucent blue polyhedron, watching it clatter along the table in front of him.
Yahaba glanced at the result, pursing his lips. “And that’s only a nine. You still have another chance on your next turn to get back up again, don’t worry.”
Oikawa nodded, retrieving the die. He glanced at Iwaizumi, who was currently reading through his character sheet, searching and searching for something.
It was Matsukawa’s turn again. Looking at Iwaizumi, then his character sheet, then sighing, then back to Iwaizumi again, Matsukawa turned back to Yahaba. “I’d like to use my free object interaction to give Izumi my Potion of Speed.”
Hanamaki protested immediately. “We only just got that! No fair, I wanted to use it.”
Matsukawa ignored him.
“Yeah, that sounds good—you’re next to him, so I’ll say you can hand it over with no rolls or anything necessary.” Yahaba nodded. He was stood up, now watching over the battle map with precise strategy whirring in his mind. Oikawa thought, ‘if he does that on the court next year, they’ll make it to Nationals.’
Matsukawa spent the rest of his turn using his character to free up Iwaizumi from the bandit in front of him, hitting the guy for all he had and taking him down. There was a chorus of celebration across the table from all but Iwaizumi, who was still deep in thought.
But, his turn arrived and Yahaba turned to him. “So, Izumi, what are you up to?”
Iwaizumi, at long last, lifted his eyes to meet Oikawa’s. “I’m going to down the potion as an object interaction, like you said before. The homebrew thing.”
Yahaba nodded in an affirmative.
“And then I’m going to use my boosted speed to make it-” Iwaizumi cut himself off, moving his token from one side of the battle map to the other, right next to where Torus was laid over on his side. “-right here. I’m going to shield Torus with my body, first of all. So no one else can hurt him.”
Yahaba nodded, shooting a look at Oikawa, as if to say ‘trust me on this’.
“Izumi, can you roll a perception check please?”
Iwaizumi frowned, but obliged.
With a tiny smirk, Yahaba continued. “Izumi, you notice something—in Prince Torus’ wound, it’s bloody, right? This doesn’t look like elf blood to you.”
“Don’t care.” Iwaizumi just shook his head. “I hold his body in my arms, closing my eyes and praying as I call upon my sworn god to assist me as I use the remainder of my Lay on Hands ability to heal Oikawa back to 10HP.”
Oikawa locked eyes with him. “Izumi, you saved me…”
“Shh, save your voice. It’s okay, I’m here.”
“My hero…” Oikawa smiled at Iwaizumi, panting slightly in mock-pain. “Izumi, I need to confess something—”
“—it doesn’t matter, it can wait—”
“—no, please, I have to tell you, it’s only right—”
Hanamaki rolled his eyes, muttering. “Just kiss already.”
Iwaizumi’s gaze was locked on Oikawa, firm and steady. “I kiss Prince Torus.”
Despite the gasps around the table, Oikawa stared right back at him. “I kiss Izumi, holding onto him tightly. My disguise slips away from me, and you’re met with a Glasya tiefling. My skin is red, and there are two horns that protrude from my forehead. I am not a sorcerer, but a bard, but here with Izumi, I feel as though I do not need to hide my true self any longer. And for the first time, I give someone Bardic Inspiration.”
“Wait, what—”
“Huh—”
“I’m confused—”
It took Yahaba fifteen minutes to wrangle hold of the session once again, and once he did, the rest of the combat passed quickly.
Roll, hit, spell, heal, move, move, looting.
It was, in actuality, Oikawa’s attention had been stolen entirely, and he found it hard to pretend to be interested when he was frozen under Iwaizumi’s interrogative stare. He wasn’t even able to summon the brain power to be shocked when Hanamaki and Matsukawa betrayed them all, leaving the rest of the party behind as they absconded with the magical treasures hidden deep in the dungeons.
Eyes barely leaving each other’s faces, Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s ankles remained linked under the table the whole time.
𓆩✧𓆪
The walk home was warm. Oikawa walked with Iwaizumi at his side, uncharacteristically quiet, aside from when the two of them spotted fireflies and they stopped to watch them dance.
They perched on a brick wall, the sun setting behind them as they sat in peaceful company with each other. If Oikawa looked down at his right hand, he was sure he would see Iwaizumi’s hand resting a hair’s breadth away. There was a barrier between them, more mental than physical, and it was strange. It left a weight on his shoulders that dragged his mood down imperceptibly. Well, to anyone that wasn’t Iwaizumi anyway.
“Are you okay?”
Oikawa ignored the question, shaking his head and plastering a pleasant smile on his face, but it didn’t quite sit correctly on his face.
“So,” Oikawa started, eyes avoiding Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi gave a non-committal hum in response. He too wouldn’t meet Oikawa’s eyes.
“That was a fun game, right?” Oikawa pushed, attempting to sound normal, but overcorrecting and sounding strained, as though the air was leaking out of his lungs before he could speak. “It’s crazy how much you get into character.”
“Yeah.”
“Because, I don’t know about you, I wouldn’t go around saying those things. That was just me being really good at playing Prince Torus.”
“Uh huh.”
“I mean, of course you know that, Iwa-chan.” Nervous laughter. “You were into it as well. Right? Like, into the game?”
“Something like that.” Iwaizumi hopped off the wall, kicking a small rock as he began to walk away from Oikawa, knowing he would be walking behind him in just a moment’s time.
If Oikawa listened closely, he could hear a familiar awkward tenseness in Iwaizumi’s voice—one that he was suffering from himself. Oikawa sighed, standing and reaching out, yanking on Iwaizumi’s elbow to stop him from walking too far ahead. He yanked further to pull his best friend to face him. Oikawa couldn’t speak, because he lifted his gaze and saw the wild panic behind Iwaizumi’s always-calm eyes. It was a shock to his system. Maybe, Iwaizumi was also feeling awkward about the evening’s events; they had gotten pretty into it, he could admit (if Oikawa stopped being in denial for five seconds).
The two of them gawped at each other, stuttering, with twin pulses thrumming under their skin.
“You started it.” Iwaizumi muttered, wrenching his arm free and avoiding directly looking at Oikawa, but remaining fixed in his space at Oikawa’s side.
Indignantly, he refused on pure instinct. “No I didn’t, you’re the one who—”
He cut himself off, gawping at Iwaizumi, suddenly wishing a hole in the ground would open up and swallow him. Oikawa felt a blush creep up his neck, mortification threatening to take hold of his body, but he kept it at bay for now. Taking a deep breath in, Oikawa began to speak. “If what I did was uncomfortable, I’m really sorry. I don’t know how it all spiralled to that-”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, put a hand on Oikawa’s cheek, tilted his own head up, and their lips met without fanfare or applause.
Clumsy, awkward, too much teeth. There was a giddy laugh threatening to fall out of Oikawa’s lips, but he held it in in favour of pressing his lips harder against Iwaizumi. He had to admit, he wasn’t much of a kissing expert, but Oikawa was going to make the most of this one kiss.
Iwaizumi was similarly eager and clunky, matching Oikawa as he always did, and each time their lips parted to breathe it only took a mere moment until Iwaizumi leaned in, again and again.
They stood in the centre of the pavement, both of them refusing so far to end this crescendo of a decades’ long battle of affection. Surprisingly, Oikawa was the one to pull away first. His hands were gripping Iwaizumi’s hips, and he rested his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. They were panting shared breaths, warm and humid in contrast with the cool evening air, but neither of them minded.
Oikawa began to laugh.
Oikawa felt Iwaizumi lift his head with an indignant scoff, and move his hand from where it cupped Oikawa’s cheek, instead using whatever he could to swat at Oikawa’s head, muttering hushed expletives. Oikawa continued to laugh, using whatever strength to hold Iwaizumi’s wrists a safe distance away before leaning in and kissing Iwaizumi once more.
Oikawa had a feeling that this was just the first night of many kisses, and he thanked whatever was out there for letting Prince Torus the bard and Izumi the paladin do it first.